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March 28, 2006
Total Fucking Mishugina
Damnit, I'm sick. I have innumerable things to do this week on top of my birthday this Thursday (hint, hint) and a party we're hosting on Saturday. My never-ending to-do list will just have to wait for a bit for I think my body has gone on strike. My throat is so sore I can barely talk. How am I going to arrange the grizzly bear shoot in this condition? I'll stop whining now.
I was on the train this morning feeling like crap when this old man who looked like Woody Allen except twice as old, if you can imagine, told this boy of 10 or so sitting near him,"Guess what kid? There's a quartah on the floor." I think the man expected the boy to say, "Well, hot dog! Thanks mister!" but the boy just looked up from his gameboy appliance and uttered a non-plussed "huh?" And so the man said it again, and pointed with his old man finger to where the quarter was located. The boy took one look at the lone coin on the slimy floor, rolled his eyes in disgust, and re-focused his attention on his little screen. The man shook his head, threw his hands up in the air, and actually muttered, "mishugina." It was quite satisfying to witness this exchange between the generations. Sorta reminded me of the Jewish grandpa I never had.
So aside from being sick, I'm also in utter shock. Yesterday, I received an email from an ex-boyfriend who I have not talked to in some time. By "some time," I mean enough time for him to have a baby. The email was a birth announcement and with it were several photographs of said BABY. It has been a little over a year since we've talked and I did the math: That's like four months months to get to know the woman and then, um, nine for the pregnancy? For a long time, even before we were dating, he and I were really close friends. And now, he is man who has a family. I'm incredibly happy for him though. I know he must be overjoyed and he'll be a fantastic father...but I'm also sad that I'm so far out of his life that I didn't know anything about this until a mass email was sent out. Is this selfish of me? That I'm upset I didn't know? We had tried to remain friends after the break up, but for complicated reasons, it didn't work out very well. I guess I just hoped that one day we would be able to be friends again. I don't have any more words about this, because I'm still in disbelief. I feel like time is accelerating faster than it ever has and all this monumental stuff is happening at once. Total mishugina, that's all I have to say.
subway photo courtesty of vince
Posted by debbie at 10:47 AM
March 25, 2006
Old as the hills...but not quite yet
It's Friday night. I'm home. Rafe's in Vegas for a bachelor party and I'm taking care of much-needed business like finishing my taxes and shopping for a miracle dress that will take me through three weddings and a graduation ceremony this summer. I've been so busy and all over the place lately, so now I'm hunkering down and trying to get everything in order....Laura's baby shower is Sunday, too, and I'm hosting it. I think I have everything under control but I'm still not a 100% sure if it's safe for pregnant women to do the limbo? We'll see...
So today at work, I had to figure out how the hell we were going to rent the following for a re-enactment scene: a grizzly bear and four bear cubs, five wolves, and two foxes (not all in the same scene, of course, for that would be stupid!). So far I found out that a grizzly will run you about $3,000 a day, a bargain compared to the snow leopard at $7,500! Guess how much a badger costs? $750. How about a skunk, you're wondering? $250. Everyday I am learning.
On Wednesday, I went out with my fellow Honduran Jew (and now suspected cousin) Leif. That boy is a burning ball of energy and, since we hadn't really seen each other in a few years, we seemed to have endless things to talk about...like how when I opened up my O Magazine (do I talk a lot about Oprah? Yes? Well, this time it's relevant!) the other night and there was a photo of his face taking up the entire page and how ridiculously random that was. He thought only his mom's friends would happen upon it. And I thought, what the hell are you doing in my O? He was featured in a photo spread about multicultral people (apparently, a brand-new phenomenon) and was representing the Honduran-Jewish combination. In light of my upcoming trip, I've been thinking a lot about cultural identities and familial ties and so it was really interesting to discuss some of these issues. We were out literally all night, and just when I thought it couldn't get any later nor I any drunker, we hopped into a cab to APT. He seemed to know everyone there (as in, everyone from the dishwashers to the bouncers to the bartenders) so naturally we had many more drinks because, well, they were free. I was amazed how people were still out so late, with seemingly nary a care in the world. On a Wednesday- can you imagine? Perhaps you can, but it was as though I forgot this this whole world of nightlife even existed. It was refreshing, actually, and it reminded me that even though I am turning 25, I'm still young! I can still party! Even on a Wednesday! Sort of. When I got home and a few hours later my alarm clock went off, I was still so messed up I physically couldn't get up. So I was, as Laura would say, "being courageous" like so many times during college: I picked up the phone, called in sick and spent the rest of the day lounging around. I was rebelling against the Man and against getting older, I suppose...and trying not to over-think every goddamn little thing. Speaking of which....
I'm not sure how I feel about turning 25. At dinner the other night, the waiter presented a salad to me and said, "you know, this balsamic vinegar is very aged. It's a twenty-five year old." And then he emphasized again, that it was "very aged." And for a moment, I felt very sad, for I was as old as the vinegar. But I'm trying to get away from feeling like age means something, like there is a barometer of accomplishment that necessarily corresponds to how many years you got on you. It's just not true. We are each following our own unique paths. Life's not a race- it's a journey. And, um, age is nothing but a number? And... It matters how old you feel not how old you are? Are these things true? Who said that? And what was I just saying?
photo of smith street by vincent, stolen off his flickr account. thanks.
Posted by debbie at 4:29 PM
March 19, 2006
Lost Weekend
Doing my taxes and procrastinating because taxes are no fun, especially when you owe the government lots of money. In the meantime, here is an entry I forgot to post last weekend:
One of my favorite activities is trying new cuisines and new foods. I love discovering greasy little spots for a quick cheap bite, don't get me wrong. But I've never been one for greasy Chinese. Just not my thing. There's this place in the neighborhood called "Me and My Eggroll" and while the name intrigues me, the food does not. I'm not going to generalize and say all Chinese food is gross, just generally takeout spots in the US. I know the variety of cuisine one can find in China is vast and I'm sure usually delicious. And I don't want to perpetuate stereotypes here, really!, but take a look at this article about China's first specialty penis restaurant:
On the menu today: horse penis and testicles with a chilli dip
The reporter did a little testical taste-testing (trying saying that three times fast! whoa!) and the best part is this part:
The deer and the Mongolian goat were surprisingly similar: a little stringy, they had the appearance and feel of overcooked squid tentacles. The Xinjiang horse and the donkey, on the other hand, were quite different. Though both came sliced lengthwise, and looked like bacon, the horse was light and fatty, while the donkey had a firm colour and taste. The testicles were slightly crumbly, and tasted better with lashings of the sesame, soy and chilli dips thoughtfully provided.
One speciality, Canadian seal penis, costs a hefty £220, and requires ordering in advance.
At least the donkey penis looked like bacon - points for that one.
Also, totally unrelated, but did you know Dave Coulier runs his own webiste and it's at www.cutitout.net? Which is sadder: that I know this, or that it's called www.cutitout.net?
So the weekend was pretty busy. Checked out a new place for our party. The lounge we originally had planned on is now really super gay, as in on Saturday nights they have wet tshirt contest. so we ust didn't feel like it would be the best place for a party. So we're doing it in Dumbo and this fantastic little lounge. Also saw Duck Season at the Angelika on Saturday night , a funny if a bit subtle and slow slice-of-life film about two 14 year old boys living in Mexico City. I'm trying to watch more Spanish-language films and television programs to acclimate myself to the langauge again. Yesterday, I talked to my aunt in Honduras for the first time and although I'd like to say the conneciton was bad (it was!) my Spanish was worse. Part of the problem is that I don't have an authentic accent. I have a non-accent, like the textbooks from which I studied in school. It's hard to really be able to speak a language when you don't actually speak it all that often. It's like knowing the lyrics to a song: it doesn't mean you know how to sing the tune (my several attempts at Karaoke have proven the truth of this anology) Last night we saw Trick & The Heartstrings at the Mercury Lounge. My old friend Leif is their bassist and they really rocked out hard. It was a great show and they're impossible to classify- sort of a more dance-punky version of Prince? Their sound is totally fresh though and their instrumentals really complex and interesting. They even had their moves coordinated while they were playing their instruments and singing. It was quite a performance, though he was so much in his zone we didn't get the chance to talk. Leif and I were friends in London back when we were both studying abroad there, and we've been in touch again lately because he's giving me some tips about Honduras. Like me, his mom is Honduran, and his dad was Jewish, and he grew up in Northern California. And, incredibly we discovered, our moms are from the same tiny Honduran town of San Lorenzo. Before we met, neither of us know any other Hondurans, and so the fact that our families are from the same town is just remarkable.
Posted by debbie at 1:52 PM
March 10, 2006
Documentaries I have worked on for Japanese TV (titles loosely translated)
Big Foot: Is He Out There?
The Bermuda Triangle: Government Conspiracy or Bizaare Natural Phenomenon?
Exorcists in America: Scary but True
The Texan Woman Who Had Oil Seep Up Through Her Toilet: The Truth Behind the Headlines
The Twelve-year old Girl Who Looks and Behaves Like a 6-month Old Baby: What's Her Deal?
And today, my new assignment...
Robots: Man's Best Friend...or Worst Enemy?
Posted by debbie at 12:01 PM
March 8, 2006
Boardgames are for Suckers
I was never one for boardgames. Charades- good fun. When I suggest, "let's play charades!" please don't mistake this for sarcasm. I also enjoy Pictionary. No box of plastic pieces needed and you can stop whenever you find yourself just too darn exhausted from all that belly laughter. Monopoly- I'd rather stare at my poo-colored walls, that's how boring I find it. Not to mention it takes four days to finish and encourages greediness.
But for our upcoming trip, I bought a few mini-boardgames as I know we'll have plenty of time on our hands and we will probably appreciate some of Parker Brothers' diversions. They make tiny versions of everything nowadays- the mini-industry has really gotten out of control.
So I got the mini-Scrabble, which is the size of a business card and as soon as I opened the box, some "pieces" fell out in between the couch cushions and are forever lost. I don't think this one is going to fare too well on the back of a cramped bus barelling down some pot-hole ridden road in the middle of Nicaragua (did I mention we are taking A FORTY HOUR BUS RIDE from Costa Rica to Honduras?)
Anyhow, the other game I got is called Cadoo, from the makers of Cranium, a game everyone goes insane over. I thought Cadoo was just a slighty different version of the game. So last Saturday night, after we gorged on some of the 40 pound lasagna I slaved over (and while it took four hours to make, its cheesy goodness is still providing us with leftovers) we busted it out and gave it a go. After about twenty minutes, somewhere around the time I had to draw "birthday cake" and Rafe had to guess, we realized the game was intended for children. The box was so small I guess I missed the "for kids" part of it. That it took twenty minutes of play to realize this indicates we are either stupider than we thought or that boardgames just aren't for us. Although I must say we do appreciate the occassional round of Boggle, wherein we play until someone becomes such a sore loser that they throw the whole Boggle apparatus to the floor. Not that I'm naming names.
Posted by debbie at 1:28 PM
The Family That Walks...ON ALL FOURS!
I've been uninspired lately, in terms of this blog. In terms of my life, I've been feeling pretty much the opposite, and coupled with how busy I've been lately, it has been hard to sit down and write all I want to write. But this scenario is surely better than having tons of time to write but nothing to write about? I would say surely. But here's a tid bit. A juicy....bit. Do I need to change this blog's name? It appealed to me for maybe ten seconds so I just went ahead and used it. But now it seems silly. But aren't all blogs inherently silly, and dare I say, fairly pointless exercises in narcissism? How about that: Farily Pointless Exercises in Narcissism? That's clever! Sigh.
This story is supremely disturbing. Not the family itself (ok, that's a little weird, too) but that there would be a documentary about them and that they would call it "The Family That Walks on All Fours" and that it is airing in England, Kingdom of Good Television, and that it's being produced by the esteemed BBC. Oh Beeb, must you stoop so low? But even more disturbing, perhaps, is this family's inetivable jump across the pond when FOX offers them their own reality show.
Posted by debbie at 11:15 AM
March 1, 2006
Tchotchkes and Tetanus
I am unnaturally obsessed with the "bric-a-brac" section at thrift stores. I am also obsessed with terms "bric-a-brac" and its yiddish sister " tchotchke." Also an obession? Toss pillows. Because I cannot yet afford beautifully designed furniture, I must do what I can with accessories. It's a rough life. And hence, the toss pillow fixation. It can work wonders when most of your belongings come from three sources: old roommates, the street, and Ikea. I have a feeling though that combining these two obsessions is just asking for bed bugs, or worse.
But I confess, the other day at Goodwill, I went for the (potentially) deadly combo. I bought a toss pillow. It is brown and chic, covered in cute-as-a-button bamboo buttons, and it's from Target (a little secret: Target gives left-over stuff to Goodwill, price-tags intact and all!) and, well, it really pulls the brown theme of the bedroom together!
The first thing a first time visitor to the aparment asks when walking inside is most always an incredulous "Did you paint these walls yourselves?" The answer is no. We're too lazy for that. Have you seen our ceilings? They're very high (yes, I'm bragging). I mean, Rafe may be tall, but I'm only 5' 2"--that's two inches away from being a dwarf. But really, the walls have grown on us. The dining room is a vivacious hue of red, the living room a cheerful shade of green. Not bad at all. The bedroom, however, is a deep poo brown. Ok, to be fair, the shade is not a true poo- it's more...tootsie roll. The previous renters must have been a bit lazy too, though, because they only painted around the furniture. When we tried to move some large cabinets that came with place to a different spot in the room, we discovered that before they were brown, the walls were a none too serene Pepto pink. So here we are stuck with brown because we are even lazier.
In other news (hey, it's been a slow day) I got a shot last night at the doctors. For tetanus. Now my arm hurts and I can only fear that worse is internally occurring. As the doctor injected me, I sat there reading a dated-looking info sheet, on it a picture of a little girl skipping and a list of facts and warnings about the vaccine:
One possible, though rare, problem is deep, aching pain and muscle wasting in upper arm(s). This starts 2 days to 4 weeks after the shot, and may last many months.
May last manymonths? How many months is many? Muscle wasting?Oh my God. All my efforts at the gym were for naught. I've been getting buff and now all that muscle could just waste away! Actually, I'm still scared of the weight machines. I guess since I'm not really getting buff, I suppose there's not much to waste away should that occur. Anyhow.
I still have many more vaccines to get, including Typhoid and Hepatitis, and I'm going to start taking malaria pills. I'm not a big fan of vaccines-- a lot of them just seem unnecessary and over precautious-- especially considering the side effects. Am I a hypochondriach? Some would say...yes. I was anonymously sent this article yesterday via the New York Times:
Doctors Take Note: Even the Whiners Sometimes Get Sick
Because my computer at work is from 1994, I can't read the New York Times online (it automatically freezes everything) but I trust that this article says something along the lines of... pay attention to hypochondriacs, they're usually on to something! Right?
Posted by debbie at 12:54 PM