Eavesdropping

October 25, 2010

Guy next to me at a Starbucks in Washington DC is writing an essay, the first line of which is:

“We struggle our entire lives to find ourselves.”

Eek, sad first line.  I kind of want to tap him on the shoulder and offer some guidance!

Means More to Me, Surely

October 25, 2010

My longest running pen pal's father reading my manuscript...

It’s Friday Night! What are your plans?

October 22, 2010

I am having a good group cry session at a semi-swanky Manhattan bar.  Jealous!?!?

Some Dream Snippets, As Of Late

October 22, 2010

Two cameos…

From HW:

I’ve been dying to tell you about this ridiculous dream I had about us last week:
I was in the worst possible mood known to man (why? according to the dream I wasn’t sure) so I ran away to your apartment building- mostly because you were there, but also because you had a Barnes&Noble mini-store on one of the floors and it was only open to residents of the building and their guests. I found you there and poured my heart out to you. I wish I knew what was bothering me so much because for some reason you were the only person I was able / wanted to talk / cry to (Thanks!). Anyway, while in the book store you started asking the others dwellers (AKA your neighbors – remember the store was only open to those that live in the building) if there’s a B&N in Israel…and I’m thinking, “Hello, I’m right here!!! Israel is my turf…book stores in Israel are 100% my turf!!! Why the hell are you asking everyone other then me? That whole scenario passed and you proceeded to show me some pictures of yours that were being displayed throughout the room. On our way out of the store and to the elevators we spot a whole bunch of my friends coming up the hall looking for me and I start throwing a tantrum and absolutely freaking out that I don’t want them to be there. Like I said, I only wanted to talk to you. Some how we manage to make an escape to my car up, but it’s late and you don’t want me to drive alone so you make a neighbors of yours follow me home on his/her (one of those dreams where the person starts out male and then suddenly transforms into a chick) bike. Turns out he/she is a convicted pedophile and he/she begins chasing me wildly… and then I woke up to my damn alarm.

From KM:

Oh, and I have a dream that you were in last night!  I was writing a letter or something and you were helping me with the wording.  You made some poetic comparison, something to do with a raven and a waterfall and everyone loved it.  Don’t worry, I didn’t cop it as my own.  I told everyone you came up with it and the response was usually, “Oooh, that makes sense.” 

Two from Me:

Two nights ago:

I was in something that looked like a school (straight hallway, low ceilings, cement floors, a few doors off each side leading to little rooms.)  For some reason I knew what would be in the last room, so I walked down the hall and entered very quietly.  In the room were a number of Orthodox women sitting on chairs and one semi-old rabbi.  The women were all somewhat portly, wearing black and had their hair covered with black scarves.  The space felt tight. The rabbi was allegedly (I say “allegedly” because I didn’t really hear what he was saying, I knew I went to the room for this reason) giving a talk to these women, who were all holding small prayer books (Torahs?  Idk.)  The atmosphere was casual and happy.  I was appropriately dressed but my hair was not covered.  I grabbed a book and opened and tried to clandestinely put a scarf around my hair.  After a few minutes of sitting and listening to the banter, I eked out, afraid I would be caught.
As I was walking down the bustling hallway, I heard a woman yell out that someone had stolen a book, it belonged to Mrs. So-and-so, and that they usually save their prayer books to give to their first born daughters (or maybe just daughters.)  I kept walking thinking maybe I’d just scoot away but I stopped in my tracks, turned around and started sobbing in the hallway.  I said, “I have it!” and this woman (not wearing a head scarf, btw, with ash-blond hair) walked up to me.  I was still crying as I told her that I was so sorry, I was just curious and I didn’t know what to do, I was so sorry, etc.  Basically babbling incoherently.  And she looked at me so warmly and said, “Don’t worry, it’s okay.  I understand.  If you have any questions you can always ask me.”  And I gave her back her book. 

Last night:

Clotted blood coming out of my mouth, but when I went to show someone, it was gone.

Contextually Appropriate

October 20, 2010

My sweet little bedroom overlooking the lawn...

The above picture is from Danvers State Insane Asylum, which was abandoned in the 1980s and only recently developed and turn into condos (yuck!)  Oh, how jealous I am of those who got to urban explore the grounds!  There are better (snazzy color!) pictures on this website, but it was too high-tech for me to figure out how to pilfer them:

http://www.danversstateinsaneasylum.com/gallery.html

There is also a big poster of the whole facade of the place for sale on this website.  Hint, hint.

Adventures in Unemployment

October 20, 2010

TECHNICALLY I’m not unemployed anymore, but…

I really wanted to become a New York City cabdriver though my boyfriend said I could only do it if I carry a gun (as I’m very small).  I was thinking about this even though I’m a pacifist (I feel like people go online these days to extol their eccentricity but really, I just am that weird) because I thought it would be funny to be a 5’1”, 100 lbs soaking wet blond woman-child driving a cab carrying a gat.  But then I read the requirements for certification and it all seems a little too much to me…

  • 1

    Get your license in order. Before applying for a taxi driver’s position in New York City, you need to make sure your license is current. You must possess a New York, Connecticut, New Jersey or Pennsylvania chauffeur’s driving license with a photo on it. (Must be the equivalent to a New York state class A, B, C or E license.)

  • 2

    Pick up a copy of your driver’s history at the Department of Motor Vehicles and be prepared to submit it along with your application. If your driver’s license is not from New York, you will need a certified document (aka abstract) of your driving history from your DMV, along with a statement that your license is equal to that of a chauffeur’s license.

  • 3

    Submit a valid and original Social Security card, as well as a notarized NYC Office of Child Support Enforcement Form.

  • 4

    Show proof that you owe no debts/fines to the DMV for tickets, traffic violations and the like. If your license is out of state, you need a certified statement from your local DMV stating that you owe no such debts.

  • 5

    Complete the Taxi & Limousine Commission (TLC) driver application and have Form A notarized. You must answer all questions in full. The applications are available at the two TLC licensing locations. (Go to TLC website for addresses of locations.)

  • 6

    Take the New York State DMV-certified defensive driving course, which is six hours in length. This must be completed at least six months prior to filing your application for employment. The cost of the course is $50. You must submit the original completion certificate when you apply. The TLC does not accept copies.

  • 7

    Pay all necessary fees and apply for license (which is one-year probationary upon issue). Fees are listed on the TLC website. In general, the total fees cost around $200 and cover licensing, fingerprinting and drug-testing. After you get your license, you will be required to attend taxi school, and the cost ranges from $150 to $325. You will also need to pay $25 to take the English proficiency test. (Total fees, including licensing, training and testing comes to around $500.)

  • Read more: How to Become a New York City Taxi Driver | eHow.com http://www.ehow.com/how_2090790_become-taxi-driver-new-york.html#ixzz12vViMSvg

    Best Excuse Ever

    October 19, 2010

    Any moronic or odd thing you want to do if you’re an aspiring writer, you can chalk up to “gathering material.”

    Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark!

    October 15, 2010

    When I was a child, I had a three-book set of scary stories based on folklore.  The books were compiled and written by a man named Alvin Schwartz.  I haven’t met anyone else who had these books but I remember being completely chilled by their contents.  Here is one story:

    Cold As Clay

    A farmer had a daughter for whom he cared more than anything on earth. She fell in love with a farmhand named Jim, but the farmer did not think Jim was good enough for his daughter.  To keep them apart, he sent her to live with her uncle on the other side of the country.

    Soon after she left, Jim got sick, and he wasted away and died.  Everyone said he died of a broken heart.  The farmer felt so guilty about Jim’s death, he could not tell his daughter had happened.  She continued to think of Jim and the life they may have had together.

    One night many weeks later there was a knock on her uncle’s door.  When the girl opened it, Jim was standing there.

    “Your father asked me to get you,” he said.  “I came on his best horse.”

    “Is there anything wrong?” she asked.

    “I don’t know,” he said.

    She packed a few things, and they left.  She rode behind him, clinging to his waist.  Soon he complained of a headache.  “It aches something terrible,” he told her.

    She put her hand on his forehead.  “Why, you are as cold as clay,” she said.  “I hope you are not ill,” and she wrapped her handkerchief around his head.

    They traveled so swiftly that in a few hours they reached the farm.  The girl quickly dismounted and knocked on the door.  Her father was startled to see her.

    “Didn’t you send for me?” she asked.

    “No, I didn’t,” he said.

    She turned to Jim, but he was gone and so was the horse.  They went to the stable to look for them.  The horse was there.  It was covered with sweat and trembling with fear.  But there was no sign of Jim.

    Terrified, the father told her the truth about Jim’s death.  Then quickly he went to see Jim’s parents.  They decided to open his grave.  The corpse was in its coffin.  But around its head was the girl’s handkerchief.

    Oooooo!  Scary!

    The highlight of this collection was definitely the illustrations by Stephen Gammell, though.  See a few choice examples below:

     

    Nice puppy.

     

    When I downloaded this last one its eyes started moving and I screamed aloud in my room, prompting two of my roommates and my roommate’s boyfriend to think I’m crazier than they already knew I was!

    UPDATE: AHHHH IT’S STILL DOING IT!  I’M NOT NEARLY TECHNOLOGICALLY SAVVY ENOUGH TO MAKE THAT HAPPEN ON MY OWN SO I’M ASSUMING IT’S THIS WEIRD OVERGROWN BABY WITH STRINGY HAIR COME TO LIFE IN THIS FUCKING CREEPY ASS IMAGE!

    Craigslist Poetry

    October 14, 2010

    So I’ve been posting ads for a company on Craigslist and have compiled some of the security words they ask you to type in an attempt to collage a poem.  It’s mostly nonsense, though.  I kind of liked it better when it just sounded absurd, like, “make-up divorcing.”

    Gibberish

    (srog nosized

    great bipanday

    already onstora

    you’re oticard

    such hoading

    speech fiticer

    offiran matist

    occafion unchirty

    allound fahll

    mallible (when

    168 bustcat

    aruire you’ll

    because wooress

    telers face.

    ablinke reached

    coffeecup stilist

    Aquila lederred

    commission corilk

    the lorabs

    English Only

    Great already, you’re such speech, you’ll because face.

    Reached coffee-cup commission.

    Translation

    ID has too much time on her hands.

    Neologism!

    October 14, 2010

    So I’m writing these silly e-articles that are lists of pop culture oddities, you know, like “15 of the Worst Celebrity Parents!” or “15 Most Baffling Unsolved Crimes!”  And I think this genre, the list and the article, should be called a LISTICLE!  (Also great cause it sounds like “popsicle,” and popsicles are delicious.