A Hell of a Town

I'm in Chelsea, in New York, in a hostel, eating a Whole Foods salad (in which I kind of wish I hadn't included dried cranberries), with five minutes and fifteen...fourteen seconds left of internet time left.

Today I:

Saw the Statue of Liberty from the subway (how is that possible? It goes over a bridge to Brooklyln).

Fell in love with Brooklyn brownstone neighborhoods, with pumpkins on the front steps and leaves piled up on the sidewalks.

Went to a Brooklyn flea market and found the cowboy boots I've been searching for for years (for $25! No one here wears them).

With just a minute left (I'm slow), I'll just say that I'm off to the Upright Citizen Brigade show tonight (impov w/ Amy Poehler!). Love you.

Pearls of Wisdom

"Take my advice: don't do heroine.
Just smoke pot,
and beat off about three times a week."
--Toothless middle-aged man chugging champagne on the Muni.

It's no argument that San Francisco is one of the weirdest places I have ever been. My roommate and I attribute the strange behavior we see to the lack of peer judgement. Everyone is so out there that after a while, you stop listening to the old man screaming "Fuck you all! I'm going to kill you all!" on the Muni and don't bat an eye when a middle-aged drag queen with sequins stuck to her face asks you where she can buy pot. And so life goes on; and people continue limping through the daily races. It should be liberating to know you can do anything (and I mean anything) and not be judged, but it's not; it's heart-achingly lonely.

Happy Birthday To Me!

Twenty-four.

Here's something that made me smile this morning:

Ok, "smile" is a bit euphemistic. "Squeal, laugh, and say 'awwww!!!!'" is more like it. My cousin's baby already has a Halloween costume; I need to get thinking of one for when I'm in New York! All my good ideas involve me in drag (Marty McFly, anyone?). Why are boys' costumes so much cooler? I refuse to be a slutty nurse/red riding hood/maid/bumble bee...

I had some deep birthday thoughts this morning, but they have unfortunately been replaced by thoughts of PANCAKES (my roommate is taking me out for brunch).

Much love.

Hard Candy Christmas

Like the geese, I'm heading South for the winter.

Hey, maybe I'll dye my hair

Maybe I'll move somewhere

Maybe I'll get a car

Maybe I'll drive so far

They'll all lose track.

Me, I'll bounce right back

Maybe I'll sleep real late

Maybe I'll lose some weight

Maybe I'll clear my junk

Maybe I'll just get drunk on apple wine.

Me, I'll be just

Fine and dandy

Lord, it's like a hard candy Christmas

I'm barely getting through tomorrow

But still I wont let

Sorrow bring me way down

Hey, maybe I'll learn to sew

Maybe I'll just lie low

Maybe I'll hit the bars

Maybe I'll count the stars until dawn

Me, I will go on

Maybe I'll settle down

Maybe I'll just leave town

Maybe I'll have some fun

Maybe I'll meet someone

And make him mine.

Can you tell I've been listening to the 8-album Dolly Parton CD my co-worker made for me? Good times.

Poetry Friday

You Reading This, Be Ready

Starting here, what do you want to remember?
How sunlight creeps along a shining floor?
What scent of old wood hovers, what softened
sound from outside fills the air?

Will you ever bring a better gift for the world
than the breathing respect that you carry
wherever you go right now? Are you waiting
for time to show you some better thoughts?

When you turn around, starting here, lift this
new glimpse that you found; carry into evening
all that you want from this day. This interval you spent
reading or hearing this, keep it for life -

What can anyone give you greater than now,
starting here, right in this room, when you turn around?

- William Stafford

A Query

Is it possible to think about exes without getting physically sick to your stomach?
Tell me, what's the secret? I'd really like to know...

And in unrelated news, I've finally found a church I can believe in:
http://www.theway.org/Current/Mar07/Mar07Flash4.htm
They know the way to my heart is jazz squares and catchy showtunes.

Bright Lights, Big Hair

It's like in a Hitchcock movie, you know,

where they tie you up in a rubber bag

and throw you in the trunk of a car.

You find people.

--Corky St. Clair, "Waiting for Guffman"

A couple weeks ago, a random customer came into my work and asked me if I wanted to be a hair model for her senior show. When I agreed, I didn't know it was going to be a runway show with costumes, professional makeup, etc.

...and look what they did to my hair! It was HUGE!