Seen in Prospect Heights on a traffic light box. That's one special stuffed monkey.
Oh yeah, there are some new pictures in my Out and About in NY album. Stuff I took while walking over the Brooklyn Bridge and from a rooftop in Park Slope. I like 'em.
You may remember my rant about wellies a few months back. Well I still hate them, but I had to buy a pair. I just had to. The rain that comes down on this city is ridiculous. But the worst part is that with the old, uneven streets there are puddles of undetermined depth everywhere you turn. After the nor'easter of two weekends ago (my very first), I knew I had to make a sacrifice. It was either look silly or ruin my Joe's Jeans. I couldn't let my Joe's suffer on account of my pride. So I bought a pair of plain-Jane tan wellies last week.
I realized I would have to wear them today when I was awoken by thunder and rain this morning. They were still in the bag, tags on, in the closet. I was secretly hoping I would be able to return them. Not the case. So I geared up for the weather and headed out.
I will admit, it was nice to walk through anything and not worry about showing up at work soaked to the knees. I didn't have to go around puddles, I could go right through them. Two points for wellies... but that's all they get. I still have like, a million points.
On another subject....
Week three tanning report: I'm still "more tan" without actually looking tan. The color seems to have leveled off. Might have to consider a different lotion or a spray on tan. Going to the medium to dark skin option will probably leave me the wrong color. That's definitely not an a good thing.
Meanwhile, as my skin darkens, my teeth whiten. Well they seem whiter. I can't really tell if they are whiter because of expect them to be or because they actually are. So I guess the results aren't that great after a week of use. We'll see at the end of two weeks if they reach actual whiteness. I suppose I could stop drinking coffee to help the process, but then I would fall asleep at work and be unable to amuse you with my tales.
Oh, I'm so excited! Yesterday Jenna came with me to see a prospective new apartment, but before we ventured out to see it she handed me my very own NYC Condom! Whoo hoo!!She works at a school on Manhattan as a social worker and one of the students' parents gave her a whole bunch for the kids should they ask for them (progressive parent, clearly). I asked her to bring me one... and she did!
I love my NYC Condom. I think it's fabulous that the city branded condoms and released them on Valentine's Day. Just awesome. Now I have my own little piece of NY history. Thanks Jenna!!
There are no accurate words to describe the experience I had last night, but I'll give it a try.It's a lovely Sunday afternoon when Jerry calls to invite me over that night for dinner and a movie with Jenna and a friend of his from work who we'll call Aaron (Aaron doesn't have a fancy blog pseudonym so he's actually Aaron). I'm told it is a horror movie made by a friend of Jerry's who is trying to break into the business. What the hell, how bad could it be?It could be bad, really really bad. Atrocious even.
The premise of the movie is unimportant. But for context; it was supposed to be some kind of Blair Witch style thriller where you are watching footage of this cult take over a town in Arizona. The poor editing between "shaky camcorder" and "security camera" footage alone was enough to almost make Jenna lose her dinner. She was worried the movie would be to scary for her to watch and it turned out the scariest part for her was the camera-induced nausea.
The rest of us were feeling nauseous too, but not from the camera movement.
The plot was boring and barely existent, and basically was just a ruse to get him (the main character; played by the writer/director/friend of Jerry's) into this insane asylum to vent all his inadequacies and injustices from his childhood... which were also boring and standard. The ONLY rewarding moment was towards the end of the film some dude was helping him escape the insane asylum when he was shot with a tranquilizer dart. He makes it to the van when the guy tosses him a bottle of OJ and says, "Drink it. It's the antidote for the tranquilizer. Orange juice. The vitamin C counteracts the effects." This is when I lost it with laughter. Immediately following me Jenna lost it when they almost simultaneously ran over some orderly which utilized perhaps the worst scarecrow-looking fake-person doll ever. Between the two of us we couldn't stop laughing for at least 10 minutes. We had had it, the movie had broken us, and the first chance we had to laugh, we took it. The boys didn't seem as amused, which really confused us. I think they were broken long before and by this point in the movie they were beyond salvation.
One thing I couldn't understand (other than why George Wendt agreed to appear in this thing for five minutes) was why Aaron showed up for this misery. Apparently Jerry had shared with him a portion of a previous film, and for some reason he came back for more. Maybe he really likes Jerry's cooking. Maybe he likes to ridicule poor film making. Maybe he wanted to see if he could make it in and out of Brooklyn alive. Whatever it was, I think he learned his lesson. We all did that night.
Jerry owes me 90 minutes of my life back.
Week two tanning report: I look a little more tan, still not to be confused with actually tan, but with the cold weather and the long sleeves nobody would know it anyway. The firming portion seems to be working okay too. I could still use a hit of actual sunshine and a dash of lipo, but this lotion and running like a crazy person will have to suffice.
I've added two new albums over there to the right. One is My Peeps, which is just like it says, pictures of my peeps. Most of these photos show up in other albums, but it's kinda nice just to have them all there. If you aren't up there it's not that I don't love you, I just may not have a good pic... which brings us to the second album... New York Visitors. The first group to be posted are of Leah when she was here last weekend. Take particular note that I captured her on film in Macy's. And, oh yeah, what's that she's holding? Well, well, well, it's a Bloomingdale's bag! As two of Nordstrom's biggest competitors it's amazing she stepped foot into both of these stores. But I was there to get it on film. Wanna be famous? Really sad you aren't in My Peeps album? Come to New York, be cute, get posted, and instantly tens of people will be looking at you!
First off, I would like to point out that Stellar Vampires are not vampires that excel at all things vampiric. They are actually stars that form by taking material from other stars. And also happen to be an excellent name for a rock band.
But my real reason for linking to this story (which is likely old news to all of you wacky astronomy lovers out there), is to point out the technology that was used to find these blood-sucking stars. I don't want to confuse you with all the technical-scientific jargon, but the name of the telescope is the Very Large Telescope. The website says it "is the world's largest and most advanced optical telescope." For such a fancy-pants telescope it doesn't have much of a name.
Since the dawn of time scientists have named things with dull technical codes or words nobody can pronounce, single-handedly creating the need for acronyms. The craze just grew from there to expand to business terms (EOD), computer lingo (ASCII) and eventually text messaging (WTF).
At least the Very Large Telescope has 4 smaller Unit Telescopes (which are just large) with meaningful names thought up by a kid in Chile from a town I can't pronounce. So thats nice.
...while shopping for dresses with your mother (who is supposed to love you and tell you that you are beautiful no matter what) she takes one look at your legs and exclaims, "you have to get a tan!" That's right, my mother strongly suggested that I go to a tanning booth and toast myself before her wedding. It really wasn't a suggestion. It was more of a request. Possibly a demand. Had I said, "you should love me whatever color I am," I believe she would have bought me some sessions to try and persuade me with free stuff. Now, I know I am a white girl. Really white. My mother, who is Italian, has dark olive skin. My sister inherited this trait. They both tan incredibly easily without burning and keep their color well past summer. I, however, did not inherit this trait. My skin looks pretty white year-round, and if I go out in the sun without at least SPF 45 I'm in big trouble. My mom took the risk that one of her children wouldn't have dark skin when she chose to make kids with my dad who was half Polish. I guess she thought the half-Italian part would win out. It didn't.
Since I believe that paying to apply cancer and wrinkles to my skin is maybe the worst idea since smoking, there's absolutely no way I'm going to a tanning salon. I'm also pretty sure that using a self-tanner will leave me orange, streaky, or orange and streaky, so that's probably not the best route either. I need non-drastic change that is goof-proof, as I am a big goof. So last week I started using a new gradual self-tanning lotion from St. Ives that is also meant to be firming as an added little bonus.
Week one tanning report: After the first few days I thought my skin was just more pink, but now that it's been about a week I'm definitely a little darker in the tan-colored direction. But I don't think anyone would mistake me for actually having a tan. May take a while for that.
Now the dogs are taking our jobs. As seen in Union Square around lunchtime on Monday. It won't be long until we are the ones being walked around on leashes.At least he's checking his mirrors before pulling into traffic. That's more than I can say for most New York drivers.
This afternoon Megan and I were sitting on a bench in Union Square enjoying the sunshine on a little break from work. As we were chatting I heard two people talking very loudly to my side. I looked over and saw two women, each with headphones on, yelling to each other like they had just been standing next to a speaker at a concert. They talked like that for a few minutes before parting ways. We had a good chuckle that neither of them could be bothered to take off the headphones to talk with a friend they ran into on the street.
There is an empty jail down the street from my apartment. It's been closed since 2003 but lately there have been rumblings of what to do with it. Convert it to condos? Convert it to a hotel? Re-open? Re-open and expand? Re-open and expand AND throw in some retail!!!!??????
That seems to be the latest plan.
None of this will really affect me much. The jail is four long blocks to the West from where I currently live, and I've started looking to move a few blocks to the East anyway. I'm going closer to where the criminals run free in their natural habitat, instead of caged up and on display. But the folks who've bought a fancy condo next door and in the burgeoning neighborhood are going to be pretty pissed, no matter how many coffee shops and swanky boutiques go in on the first floor.
At least when the inmates are released they'll be able to grab a $5 latte and on the way back into society.
