What I've Been Up To

It's been awhile, so I'll get you up to speed on my adventures. In case you didn't know, I'm a famed photographer on Instagram now. So far this year I:

 Drank lots of cocktails, obviously.

Went to Orlando to visit this dumb idiot.

Shared a delightful afternoon with this cactus. I hope we meet again some day.

Thought I saw a picture of Alex Scordelis in a museum, but it turns out it was just Cindy Sherman.

Realized I would never be happier than eating bacon from Peter Luger, and then drank mimosas from this stolen glass the next day.

Bought this horrifying toy from Kid Robot.

Looked out of my plane window and thought the world was ending but realized it was just Colorado.

Got allergies.

Spent too long sifting through piles of lego heads.

 Sailed the high seas of the Hudson River.

My Lymbyc Systym is working again

I mentioned before that I've been feeling really overwhelmed with life in general. Yesterday I decided it was time to get over it and I've officially transitioned from World of the Frazzled to World of the Living. Do you ever have those time periods where everything seems unmanageable? I recently got a subscription to the New York times, and I've found that even the task of reading the newspaper makes me a little anxious. So much news to consume, so little time. Anyway, hi.

For my triumphant return to the real world, I planned to see Built to Spill. They were playing for free in Coney Island yesterday at the Siren Festival. I was super excited because I have been obsessed with BTS since high school, when I first got my hands on Ultimate Alternative Wavers. For some reason, I thought I especially identified with the song "Nowhere Nothin' Fuckup" when I was 14. Yeah, I was pretty cool. Then during the summer of 2000, I spent most of my time locked in my room, playing Sim City and listening to Keep It Like A Secret. Every time I hear the familiar hum of "The Plan" I'm hearkened back to building light residential zones in my computer chair. It had been a long time coming and I was stoked to get to see a band that I have been in love with for 50% of my life. I was packing up to head to the subway, hoping everything would be perfect from now on.

Then Pancake started barfing so I had to take her to the vet, and I missed the show. Oopsiedaisy.

But all hope was not lost. My pals Mike and Jared Bell were in town, and their band Lymbyc Systym was playing at Union Hall. Dudes, if you have not heard Lymbyc Systym yet, stop being such a dumb dumb. You should really see them live because they put on a great show. They're on tour right now, but if you can't make it out, then listen to these tracks.

The mix of soothing keyboard melodies and kick-ass drumming punctuated with bells and xylophones is pretty rad. I was so impressed by their music last night, and I think Mike might be the best drummer in the whole world. I went to school with these guys since elementary school and their dad was my rabbi. Now they're all grown up. I'll always remember them when they looked like this:

Out of Order

I feel like such a terrible blog mother. I have ignored this poor blog for the past few weeks because my mind has been jumbled with all sorts of silly things. There's a lot I need to tell you about... like my hilarious insider knowledge of the Housewives of NJ or my new job, or the fact that my brother drew a Reebok pump sign on the pump of the boot that adorns my fractured foot, and the fact that Pancake likes to pump it up...

But right now my brain is broken and so is the delete button on my keyboard, so I will have to keep you waiting on the edge of your seats. I'll BRB, I pinkie swear. In the meantime, I will leave you with a few pictures of things I desperately want to buy. Conveniently they are all in the $80 range. Eeeek.
Summer Campbell Frock by Rennes le Chateau

APC Madras Check Top
Grey Leather Sandals by Matiko (gonna have to wait for these until my foot stops being lame.)

Also on the list of things I desperately need: some type of insane dress to wear to this year's Belmont Stakes. My search for "insane dress" on Etsy yielded zero results, so I'm pretty much at a loss. A penny for your thoughts?

Das BOOT

This week has been like a good old fashioned game of chutes and ladders... full of ups and downs.

Down: I fractured a bone in my foot called the sesamoid bone. Now I have to wear a stupid boot for three weeks and I look like a bozo.

Up: See that gray bubble on the boot? It's a pump, so I can pump it up, just like Rebok pumps!

Big Up: I decorated the boot to make it super fashionable.Super Up: Damien Weighill of Your Face Blog drew my face!

STAUNCH!

Oh hello. Here's something amazing to start out your Friday night:


Soooo excited! Dude, I have been waiting for this movie since 2005 when I first heard it was in pre-production. I actually used to know one of the producers, this lady named Lucy Barzun. When I saw she was attached to the project, I thought, "Shit! I gotta call her up and beg to work on the film in any capacity!" You see, I'm pretty obsessed with the Edies and I really wanted to hang out with their reincarnations, even if one of them was being played by Drew Barrymore.

So I called up Lucy and asked if I could work on the film as her assistant. After rescheduling the meeting like 8 times, she finally told me to meet her one summer afternoon at Le Pain Quotidian. Unfortunately, I had acquired a nasty stomach virus the night before and I couldn't stop puking. So ya know, I did what any staunch GG fan would do. I WENT TO THE INTERVIEW ANYWAY. Ooops.

Things seemed to be going pretty well until we started talking about potential day-to-day activities and my eyes started rolling back in my head. Before I knew it, I had started to throw up in my mouth. I had to run to the bathroom in the middle of her sentence so I could avoid blowing chunks on Lucy's brunch. After that whole debacle, she seemed pretty disgusted with me, and proceeded to send me on my "merry" way without so much as a handshake. I can't say I blame her.

I've always wondered when the film would be released and I've been following its incredibly slow-moving production status on IMDb for the past 4 years. So now it's finally coming out, although it won't be in the theaters. That's sort of a shame since I know Little Edie would have wanted this on the big screen, but I'll take what I can get.
The film premieres on HBO on April 18th @ 8PM, and you can be sure I'll be watching it wearing stockings over my pants and my skirt as a cape.

What the Hell Is Wrong With Me?

Sometimes I look at my life and say, "Hey lady. You're doing ok. You have a nice boyfriend and a very cute dog and an okay job and you live in one of the coolest cities in the world."

And then other times, I see certain stuff that makes me want to gouge out my eyes with my bic pen and bash my head against my cubicle wall until in breaks open and my brain falls into the garbage can where the cleaning lady will collect it and tie it up in a bag with a bunch of used tissues and granola bar wrappers.

One such thing that causes this extreme anguish is the fact that this little shit named Alex Greven wrote a book that was published by Harper Collins in November. He is 9. His book, entitled "How to Talk to Girls" (ooo how CUTE! and by CUTE! I mean so sickening that it makes me throw up in my mouth) was just optioned by Fox. They are going to make Alex's book into a movie. The Hollywood Reporter says that some of the adivce in his book includes:

Comb your hair and don't wear sweats; control your hyperness and cut down on sugar if necessary; a crush is like a love disease that can drive you mad; it is easy to spot pretty girls because they have big earrings, fancy dresses and all the jewelry but are like cars that need a lot of oil.

I can't wait to see this in the theaters when Seth Rogen is playing the guy who can't get girls and Drew Barrymore is the pretty, loveable girl he wants to get with if only he could just stop wearing sweats! He tries desperately to change and is mistaken for a homosexual after combing his hair the wrong way. Hilarity ensues before he gets Drew and learns a little about himself in the process.

So 9 year olds can get movie deals while I struggle to write and pay my rent. That seems pretty fair.

Stop Stealing or Stop Shitting

Living with roommates brings out a darker side of humanity. Like they say on the Real World, you get to see what happens when people stop being polite and start being real.

My last roommate Sherri moved to NYC and needed someone to live with. We had been friends before and although we weren't close, I thought it would be ok for us to live together. I was interested in having a roommate who I was friendly with but not best friends with. I knew she'd had lots of problems with past roommates and I probably should have took that as a warning sign. Sadly I did not.

The first week of our apartment dwelling together was actually quite nice. We exchanged pleasantries in the hallway, watched Americas Next Top Model together, and even made a joint trip to the grocery store. But as the weeks passed, her behavior grew more and more peculiar. She tiptoed around the house naked in the middle of the night. She went through my things and stole my DVDs. She cut up bananas and put them in spaghetti with meat sauce for dinner. Seriously. But the worst was when she involved my kitchenware in her deviant behavior. Like time she hard boiled some eggs and left them soaking in brown liquid in the fridge for over a week. The eggs were sitting in a bowl. A bowl that belonged to me and that happened to be my favorite bowl. I realize it is weird to have a favorite bowl, but I do, so get over it. I was horrified by this egg tank/science project and so I dumped the contents in the trash and hid the bowl under my bed. I also hid many of my other kitchen belongings including spatulas, measuring cups and corn on the cob holders. I could not have these precious household items which I had collected since childhood to be tarnished by her strange culinary experiments. We truly brought out the worst in each other and I'm glad my days of living with roommates are over.

My friend Rob is not quite so lucky. He moved in with some nasty roommates a couple weeks ago- to an apartment that is so run down that he moved in to find that the front door was broken off its hinges. These roommates are gross guys who probably leave pee in the toilet and beard hairs on the sink. Yesterday, they stole Rob's toilet paper. This is the note he left for them in response:Luckily, he found a new apartment and is moving out next week. I think he should he should buy them this toilet paper as a parting gift:

Dog Eat Dog

This weekend I had one of the scariest and most traumatic experiences of my life. My dog Pancake was attacked by a Doberman Pinscher. It is one thing to be injured or attacked yourself, it is a whole new ballgame when it happens to someone (or some dog) whom you love and are responsible for.

Saturday morning, Pancake and I were going for a nice leisurely stroll down Franklin Ave. Pancake is a very friendly dog and I normally let her meet and sniff other small dogs we encounter. However, when we see dogs who are large and or angry looking, we tend to steer clear. We were prancing along right outside Brooklyn Label, our local coffee shop, when suddenly I spied a large and fierce (not like ferocia coutura) Doberman Pinscher that had its eyes on my poor little baby. This dog was on a leash that was being held by a small girl who looked to be no older than 6 years old. Pancake and I were trying to get away from this scary creature when I heard the girl say, "No Ana, no!" Ana the Doberman broke free of her young holder and went straight for Pancake. Ana grabbed Pancake in her large mouth and tossed her to the ground, biting and shaking her. If you have ever met Pancake, you will know that she is the number one sweetest dog, would never harm a fly, and hasn't the slightest clue about how to defend herself.

It was right around this time that my surge of adrenalin/motherly instinct kicked in. I reached down and ripped my pup out of Ana's mouth. I had no thought about what danger I might be putting myself in, I just knew I needed to help my best doggy friend. I was screaming and crying a little bit, but then managed to calm down and use my brain. After I had stopped screaming, I heard screaming coming from someone else. I looked in my arms and realized it was Pancake screaming. It sounded like a human scream and was undoubtedly the most terrifying thing I have ever heard in my life, hands down.

Suddenly, a woman emerged from the coffee shop. It was the mother of the girl/owner of the other dog. She grabbed Ana and had her daughter come over to me to tell me a message. "My mommy said she will pay for the pills that your doggy will have to take," she said shakily. It was a nice gesture, and if I weren't in such a panic, I might have said ,"Cool, thanks kid." But I think I just screamed or something. I ended up getting the lady's email address and she agreed to cover the vet bill. She also agreed not to leave her dog unattended with her small child ever again.

Moments later, we rushed Pancake to our local vet for an emergency visit. She was obviously in a lot of pain and had some big bite marks on her sides, although her skin was not punctured. She was shaking like a leaf the whole time in the emergency room but she was very brave and even managed to wag her little tail while we comforted her. I on the other hand, was a complete wreck. I was sobbing and hyperventilating. I couldn't help but think "what if I had just seen the dog earlier so we could cross the street faster" or "what if we had gone on a shorter walk, then none of this would have happened." Yes, what if. I was sure Pancake had broken her leg and that they were going to have to amputate it, leaving her with a nub.

Once the vet got a look at her, she determined Pancake was not broken, just messed up. Her muscles were spasming from the shock and so she got a doggy acupuncture treatment to soothe her pain. She was also given some muscle relaxers and pain killers. She is sorta sad and sorta scared, and we can't pick her up without her yelping, but she is going to be ok. That is the most important thing.

My poor dog has been through so much, and it's really not fair because she honestly is the sweetest little creature I have ever encountered. She is recovering on my couch if you would care to send her balloons or treats.

Subway, Bloody Subway

This morning on my delightful commute to work, I sliced open my finger trying to close my umbrella. Much to my dismay, my finger started gushing blood all over the place. I frantically searched in my purse for a little pack of Kleenex to contain the mess, but I couldn't even find a used tissue to wipe my troubles away.
When I transferred to the L from the G at Lorimer St., I went to that Pakistani guy who has a little snack stand set up in the corner of the station.

"Can I please have a napkin? I'm bleeding profusely," I said to the guy, shaking my gory finger in his face to show him.

"You can't have a napkin, but you can buy a pack of Kleenex for a dollar." He said smugly.

FUCK that guy! I was a poor girl in need of help, and was not willing to give in to his extreme greediness. I decided to bust out some MacGyver style skills and use some old receipts as bandages. Like George Castanza, my wallet is stuffed to the brim with old receipts.

Gross right? I bled through three before getting to work. I just hope if I get shot or stabbed in the subway, it's not at the Lorimer St. stop because I'm sure not getting any help from that snack shop clown.

Who Looks Hotter With A Neck Brace?

Everybody's favorite rocker turned musical theater star fatty Kelly Osbourne suffered a slipped disc last week. Now she has to drop out of Chicago and wear a neck brace. As some of you may know- I also "slipped a disc" a few months ago and had to wear a neck brace. I feel Kelly O's pain- that shit fucking sucks!! But the good news is that the neck brace is slowly becoming a new fashion trend.

Who wore it better?

- Kelly O today

- or me back in April?

The Splinter

<-- (not my actual finger)

I was shopping at Whole Foods a couple weeks ago on my lunch break. After perusing the apples for a minute, I moved on to the vegetable section. But not before scraping my finger on the splintery wooden fruit crate I was walking past. I looked down to see that a sharp sliver of wood had found its way into the tip of my ring finger. It hurt pretty bad and it was really gross- so I wound the customer service desk and asked the lady for a first aid kit.

The fat woman looked up from the counter, her lips riddled with bread crumbs. "Wha you nee?" she slurred, choking back the bagel she was eating.

"Do you have a first aid kit? I just got a splinter from one of your wooden crates over there and I want to try to get it out with a tweezer if you have one."

The woman looked at me like I was the craziest person she had ever met. After rummaging around for awhile- she produced a flimsy plastic tweezer.

"Here you go guurl."

After my splinter removal attempt failed, I went back to work dejectly. Many other coworkers tried to get it out by squeezing my finger and trying to cut it with scissors. I tried for the next two days to remove it buy using various creams, salts, soaking, tweezing and picking with needles. All of these attempts failed.

By the third day- my finger was not looking so hot. I won't give you the details but let's just say it was gross. I needed a doctor to get the thing out. Yes- how embarassing- a doctor visit for a splinter... but it had to be done.

I don't have medical insurance or a regular doctor so I began the quest of searching for an urgent care doctor in NYC. I know it's hard to believe, but urgent care doctors and medical clinics (that aren't shady) are pretty hard to come by for some reason. My internet search yeilded one reasonable result- Dr. Stuart Lewis, whose office is right next door to mine.

Before I made my appointment, I read reviews of him on citysearch. That's when I came across this post, which is kind of one of the most amazing reviews I've ever seen:

"Great doctor, for about one second. he was also part of my HMO> . female here talking. i knew by the program that he did not do gyn. so i asked him tactfuly what do you do about that. he almost had a breakdown like i mentioned a bad word. he got freaky scared and said i give refferals. like this was to much. so was te fact i was in critical conditions from extremes states of trauma and shock exhaustion in meidcal failure to treat. he basicly acknowledge this and then sat and watched me progres where i became very sick and lost my life long struggle to outwit death over come past medical failures and medical isuues in my life. i wrote him three letters begging him to put me in hosptial to recover. female sensible girl who has a father who was a bad doctor. i also had a genious iq basic common sense. that was why i wrote thre letters rather than if i were john q to get a gun and shoot him. i begged for my life. i became very sick. developed more serois states of a very easily treatable condtion. then the botome fell out. this man could care less . one day i was in apple store. he was bs ing iwith a wman infornt of me. and a girl talking about someone who commited suicide. i wanted to tell the whle store what a @*@*he is. sorry i didnt as my life became so horrible from suffering from this man and others who cared more about ipod than a person. james dorian is not the only creep in soho. and ifeel he wrote the other reviews on this sight becuas he erases all the negative ones.
Pros: nice location nice building office that is. close to soho
Cons: the spa attitude teks wey from the care. ktch more focus on persn not faux"

Um. Yeah. So obvs after reading this, I new Dr. Lewis was the guy for me!! I promptly made an appointment and he saw me the next day.

He was SUPER nice and got my splinter out in less than 10 minutes. It was some kind of miracle I tell you. I did a bell hop off of the doctor's table I was so excited. He only charged me $50 too.

Which just goes to show that contrary to popular belief, not every person who writes reviews for Citysearch is credible. Or sane for that matter.