Friday, June 26, 2009
Some of you may have noticed a few changes to the right-hand bar. I have finally opened the much awaited Etsy shop! This is a huge personal triumph for me, but as Tim points out neither he nor Josh (my only two readers) are very likely to purchase things so posting a mini Etsy shop in this venue is not going to redirect potential customers. Oh well.
Maybe some strangers like to look at pictures of my cats? You never know.
Whoever you are, go look at my Etsy shop and check back often. I am adding new things everyday.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
The other day I was standing on our back porch admiring the lovely early evening when my reverie was interrupted by some people arguing on the street. From our back porch we have a good view of a section of the sidewalk and street because one of our neighbors has a driveway (of which he is most proud and spends a lot of time maintaining, to each his own), and it was smack in the middle of this good view that I witnessed either the coolest way to deal with shithead kids or the worst adult behavior ever. I still cannot decide which.
I need to go ahead and let you all know how differently kids are up here than in other parts of the country. I am more on guard with a gang of pre to teenagers up here than I am when I am walking around the city at night. They are stupid. They are minors. They know no repercussions or ethics. They are in groups. And they are trying to impress one another. The worst time is just before dinner time, because they are HUNGRY. This is what time it was when I saw what I saw. And what I saw was this: a group of loud 12 year olds had been riding around the neighborhood on their bikes shouting insults at the inhabitants (mostly mild mannered old Polish people) and being obnoxious like the shitheads they are. There were 6 or so of them riding back and forth, messing with people and then going back to flirt with the group of 6 or so girls that were on foot walking some ways behind them. A routine evening. But then, one of them picked the the wrong guy to mess with. He was roughly 5'10", 180lbs, 45, balding, and since he is in our neighborhood there is a good probability that he had been drinking (this was not outwardly noticeable, but this is Greenpoint and as my friend Maria puts it, "We Polish are keeping the concept of the 'Tramp' alive"). I did not hear what the kid said to the guy, but the guy was MAD. He stood in front of the bike forcing the kid to stop while all the others fled. Their conversation went a little something like this:
Guy: "What did you say to me?!"
Kid, not looking directly at the guy: "...."
Guy: "SAY IT AGAIN!"
Kid, quietly pissing himself: "no."
Guy, infuriated: "YOU THINK YOU'RE A BIG MAN?!"
Kid, defiant, in spite of standing alone in a puddle of his own urine: "yes"
Guy: "You are not so big. Don't fuck with me. I'll kidnap you and cut up your body."
Kid, a fresh wave of urine and the stench of fear leaving his body, finally looking at the guy: "..............."
Guy walks away.
Like I said, either brilliant or psychotic. There is a fine line up here.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Topping "threadball" is going to be difficult, but I will try my best.
To begin with, it has been thunder storming and raining in NY for at least 2 weeks. Every single day, at some point, my cats will scurry to their "safe" spots because they are all mortally afraid of thunder. For Scraps, this means the she will army crawl and nest in one of three places: a fabric bin that is filled with sweater scraps (appropriate, I know), underneath a cabinet that we keep our coffee maker on, or if the thunder is really loud or the storm long, our bathroom. When she is in the bathroom she curls up smack in the middle of the rug and just sits there in the dark. Needless to say it is always a surprise to find her in there, but never so much as it was the other night.
Tim and I are watching something on TV and have all the lights off. I decide get ready for bed because I am very tired and sleepily stagger, during a loud thunderstorm, to our bathroom. The door is cracked and I enter a little bit sideways, stepping with my right foot. The lights are still off at this point and my left hand is reaching for the switch just as the outside of my right foot connects with something small, furry, and now more than before, freaked out. The next series of events happen in rapid succession, or all at once. I valiantly try to "cat step" over her, but all my weight is on my right foot- which is on Scraps- and the bathroom is small. So, my hands flailing helplessly in the dark, I cross my left foot OVER my right foot- which is still on Scraps- and manage to slam my toes directly into the side of the bathtub. At this point my body is at a 65 degree angle from the force of my panic, my legs are still crossed and Scraps is still under my right foot. I can't tell you what my arms are doing (nothing at all helpful, I am sure) because my brain has just exploded with the pain of all five toes colliding with the bathtub and then promptly getting entangled in the shower curtain. My weight finally transfers off of my right foot- as my left foot slips on the shower curtain- and Scraps is released! She tries to tear out of the bathroom at full force. Her hurry was unnecessary, however, because when my left foot slipped on the shower curtain and my crossed right foot went up into the air, my entire body fell sideways through the shower curtain INTO the bathtub (arms flailing). My left foot shot the bath mat (which mere seconds before was Scraps' "safe" area) out of the bathroom- Scraps and all- with such force that they both slammed into the hallway wall. Our poor cat, who is terrified of the storm, actually choose to run OUTSIDE in it rather than stay in the apartment with me, who was obviously trying to kill her.
Then Tim turns on the light.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Friday, June 12, 2009
I woke myself up itching my feet with my feet.
After some investigation with my hands in the dim morning light, I was able to deduce that I had been sucked into an near-hollow shell by a particularly greedy mosquito. I had approximately 30+ bites on both of my feet and ankles, which were innocently sticking off the end of my bed. I am imagining that by the end of its feast, the mosquito looked like an insect version of that girl from Disney who is in her Rascal on her cellphone, and must be lurking behind a door in my apt somewhere unable to fly out of the 3rd floor, thinking, "I'm..... so (burp)... fuuuuulll".
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Tim at the Castle: A Moving Portrait.
Me, at Home Sewing: What Fun.
(Apparently I didn't save the sound file on the first video... I know you are all mourning the loss of my brilliant discoveries, statements, and comments, but you will just have to talk FOR me based on my body language because the original is GONE. I WAS saying some pretty interesting things, mind you, so be sure you talk clever for me. Do me justice now!)
For those of you that don't know, there is a parade at Disney with floats, characters, flag people, dancers and songs. On Gay Day, the red shirts flooded the parade route and kept the parade going. Classic.
Don't go to this show.
I was trying desperately to change my camera to video this part. Mr. Incredible and Frozone were crotch thrusting. And I mean, CROTCH THRUSTING.
What a happy bug.
Disney is a little bit scary.
And a little bit sad.
And a little confusing.
This is the gayest Tim has ever looked.
Tim and the bird that wanted the fat guys turkey leg.
It's not Disney without a fat guy eating a giant turkey leg.
Family in a Teacup.
3 gay dudes in a Teacup.
Tim Jones, Ladies and Gentleman.
Bat Balls. Just hanging out.
Tim and Aden on the shaky safari bridge.
Blowing leaves into the fountain when I ran out of Wishing Pennies.
Family in 3-D
Disney grows its own food.
When Tim pointed out the painted guy chasing them, Harper insisted that meowing at him would make them safe.
Honey I shrunk my husband.
Greatest NO! graphic ever.
I have a picture of Tim doing the same thing to our three cats.
Just one example. Rascals were everywhere. I love that she is parked in the way and on a cellphone.
The bippity bobbity boutique.
brother in law.
Last week Tim and I ended up being drug kicking and screaming to Disney World. Or Land. Whichever one is in Florida. My mother had been planning this trip for almost 2 years and we conveniently managed to get the whole thing postponed last summer by getting married. After that, Tim and I were given "You're coming to Disney, or else" invitations which guaranteed our attendance through fear of being disowned entirely by my family. Don't get me wrong, I am all for seeing my family. I don't get to often enough and my sister and brother-in-law have two small -not so much anymore- kids whom I love hanging out with. It's just that when you are a childless adult, you happen to be immune to the lures of Disney. I also live in NYC and when I go on vacation I don't necessarily want to be fighting off fatter versions of the crowds I just left and standing in lines behind kids that get their arms yanked off for being excited. As a childless adult, going to Disney may actually encourage you to REMAIN a childless adult. This is delicate territory here, and not my first choice for a vacation destination.
THEN, my sister-in-law, Sheri informed me that the week that we were going, the week that my mother spent countless hours on the phone planning and researching, just happened to be Gay Week. This is probably the best news that I had heard in the last 10 years. According to the stats, there were approximately 140,000 of them coming into Magic Kingdom to experience what will now truly be The "Happiest" Place on Earth. AND, I got to be the one to tell my mom, whom I love fucking with. After all is said and done, it turns out that all it takes is a little bit of novelty to get me excited about a rather predictable vacation, a little bit of unique uncertainty to guarantee that we would have a Conger-Putnam-Jones time in Disney instead of the exact same memories as the countless other people that vacation there. All it took was Gay Week.
Sadly, for me, it was anti-climactic at first. The other park attendees were just your average fat midwesterners walking 5 abreast, but on Saturday I finally got my wish. Saturday was the official day where they all wore red shirts and went to Magic Kingdom, which thankfully, is where we were also.
Here are the best things that happened that day:
1. The elusive "Joey the Squid". We ended up keeping our eyes peeled in a Where's Waldo kind of way, hoping to see him again at some point. Joey's shirt was the first in an apparent never ending sea of fantastic t-shirts. My brother-in-law perhaps saw the best: "Zippa-Dee-Doo-Dah, Zippa-Dee-Gay". Other contenders were: a bedazzled "I'm gayer than you", a monkey with an extra large banana below the words, "mine's bigger" and "You'll do".
2. The spectrum of participants. There was a full range of people from 15-85 wearing rainbow mouse ears, Minnie Mouse headbands (my sister was quick enough to snap a photo of a group of 5 fat, middle-aged men all wearing these), rainbow pins, etc. At this point, I need to remind you that the park is filled with 5% of the average American population. This means that almost everyone is obese and badly dressed. This percentage was also true for the participants of Gay Week. As Tim put it, "Hmmm, we need to come back for SEXY Gay Week next time."
3. I actually got to send a guy in the bathroom after my dad. He got up to go and was 10 feet from the table when a surprisingly attractive guy wearing an official Gay Days '09 t-shirt asked me if I knew where the bathroom was. I pointed my dad out to him and said, " See that guy in the white shirt? Follow him, he's headed to the bathroom right now." Opportunities like that should not be missed. I am sure my dad was like, "Is that guy following me?" Hilarious.
Putting all of the Gay Week stuff aside, Tim and I had a surprisingly marvelous time! The invention of the Fast Pass and my dad's keen navigation allowed us to see a lot more of the parks than I expected. We had park-hopper passes and could go anywhere we wanted at any time. We saw 2 amazing firework displays in one night. There were parades, and safaris, and teacups (!), and large scale spectacle everywhere. The entire place was so over the top that it made the crowds worth it just to see everything. The bathrooms were air-conditioned! The rides were fun and my niece and nephew were so excited about everything that it was contagious. As I told my sister when we left, "You got me. I had fun. You were right."
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
I was walking below Union Square yesterday and someone popped out of a shop (they were having a promotional event advertising vacations to New Jersey of all things) and handed me FREE cotton candy! Which was awesome, except yesterday was one of those misty breezy days that turns cotton candy back to liquid in even the time it takes to get your camera out and commemorate the moment. And then, on my way home, I found 60 bucks by our park. AND no one was filming me, or had even rubbed shit on it, which is the kind of thing you expect to happen up here...