Bloglandia

H A P P Y N E W Y E A R!

Happy New Year, my lovlies. Thanks to Tsam, for the authentic 'Year of the Monkey' gif. I'm in the Philippines as we speak, catching a bad cough from the leftover gunpowder in the air. We like to blow things up during New Year's, if i haven't told you. Had a blast (literally) watching my little cousins light whistle bombs and scamper away, all fingers still intact (thanks for asking). Watch out, a travel blog is in the works-- you'll be asking me to shut up soon enough!

xoxox, Steph.

I Take it BACK!

was scouring through grouphug.us again, (they have new confessions up!) and stumbled on this gem:

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When I was a kid, I found some beer in the woods that someone had hidden there. I drank two of them and pee'd in the bottles and put the caps back on. The later that day, my friend called me and invited me to go party in the woods with him and a bunch of other kids, he said they had beer

Now that's a confession.

I've been so Fucking Lazy.

Yeah. So in between interviewing subletters in preparation for my great NYC haitus, work, work, work, and sleeping on the train-- i've been getting drunk a lot more often than I ought to and watching more Conan than I should.

I have just finished off my duty-free carton of cigarettes, hence a lot of nicotine withdrawal and a refusal to buy $7 packs of cigarettes. They're bad, i know.

I miss Quark and Lia, things were so much fun when they were around-- and it was CMJ. *sigh*. Good times, good times.

If I haven't mentioned this, I will for the sheer irony: I won employee of the month for September. wooheehoo. A $50 gc to Bloomies, oh lordy! I couldn't have asked for more.

I think I need a dog-- or a boyfriend, whichever comes first. ergh-- winter.

I am at the moment pms-ing and craving chocolate. don't come near me, i will bite your head of just for the hell of it (slip the chocolate under the door).

I often wonder how bitchy I can get before people decide never to talk to me again-- im finding that I have either suprisingly tolerant or incredibly stupid people around me.

I'm getting a haircut today. yay, treat!

I am addicted to grouphug.us but cannot for the life of me post. Notice how obsessed people are with sex-- everyone's dirty little secret has to do with either masturbation, fetishes, cheating on their current partners and not feeling guilty about it, or virginity. Come on people-- it's the same thing over and over again, can't you at least come up with more creative sins? I might invent one just for the hell of it. oh great, now i'm going to get all the XXX google searches. I might as well add fellatio and dwarves to the list.

BOo-ed out.

Hope you had a happy one!

BOo.

What a way to start my day.

First this little incident that had me scrambling for a bus to catch my oh-so-on-time upstate train. And then I find this little story.

Oh the perils of my commute. Happy Halloween.

Happy Birthday, Watson!

Here's one for a great South African summer day!
Download file

Oh, Elliott.

I will miss you, the world will be a bit bleaker now.

In the Lost and Found

he held his breath
to hold your hand
to walk the stairsteps in pairs
climbing up the slippery slope
I'm in love
love I hope
don't go home Angelina
stay with me
hanging around in the lost and found

kissed you quick
feeling weird
lonely lived and disappeared
this is such a simple place
passing time can't erase
don't go home angelina
paint tomorrow blue

day breaks
and every morning when he wakes
he thinks of you

I'm alone
that's okay
i dont mind
most of the time
I dont feel afraid to die
she was here passing by
don't go home angelina
stay with me
hanging around in the lost and found

--Elliott Smith, August 6, 1969- October 21, 2003
In memoriam.

The Harlem Line.

I go against the wave of people trying to get into the city every morning, to go the opposite direction (an hour and a half away) for my 8 hours of yuppie slaving. It shouldn't really be such a tiresome commute, but alas, to get to my on-the-dot (with an unveering schedule, as if in Switzerland) Harlem Line Metro-North train (and the promise of 40 minutes added sleep), I have to take the most unreliable New York subway system that has taunted and exasperated me my whole New Yorker life.

So I've perfected the art of card-swiping at turnstiles and catching closing train doors, executed a graceful 5-step (as in stair steps) leap once just in time to slip though sliding doors. And yes, I've gotten caught in them plenty too, those doors aren't gentle at all. But despite of all these "gained skills", if that damn uptown train comes even 2 minutes late, in a domino effect that comes crashing over my head, I end up missing my Metro North train.

But it's expected, NYC subway= sucky transport. NYC subway = rats playing in rails, NYC subway= an unjustified fare hike because they still let sticky people on during rush hour, but never would I have expected the Metro North to let me down. Well it did, last Wednesday night, while all those limb-less people were carted away from the Staten Island Ferry disaster, and the Ferry Pilot tried to commit suicide by shooting himself twice with a pellet gun to his chest, I was stuck waiting for my dear Metro North train to take me home.

An hour and still no sign of A train, ANY train, going North or South. The loudspeakers crackle and suddenly you hear "The 5:21 Metro North train to Grand Central Terminal has been delayed indefinitely due to Police Activity". What? What the fuck is Police Activity? An oxymoron perchance? This announcement proceeds to loop, blaring every 10 minutes.

So up for a mini-adventure, We the stranded gathered into a group of 4 to share a cab to the Hudson Line station which ran along the river (and fingers crossed, whose police were busy eating doughnuts). It was such a ragtag bunch, there was Vagner who i kind of knew since we often ended up on the same train/bus/cab to work-- the uber straight IBM programmer imported from Russia, a freelance editor (Kino) who was in Hawthorne for the first time ever for a 2 day job (what luck. she too was the source of our Staten Island news), and Vincent with his ponytail, a puffy jacket and a dead cellphone that he was desperately trying to revive. We never found out what he did but he kept rambling on about having to get to a party in Brooklyn. He got along so well with our Greenburgh cabbie that he had us in hysterics the whole ride. I made friends, yo! In the most unexpected of circumstances too. I should get stranded more often.

Film Flam.

I caught the screening of the David Mackenzie film Young Adam last thursday @ the New York Film Festival. Great movie, well acted (Ewan McGregor, Tilda Swilton, and Emily Mortimer), subtley disturbing-- i mean the type of disturbance that creeps up on you as the movie plays over and over again in your head. Its the best kind, I think. It was an Alexander Trocchi bok too (who i hear was as obsessed with heroin as with porn). Add to that getting in for free. oohwee! As we were standing in line for tickets, a nice old guy handed us two. God bless sponsors and their excellent seats!

Last Saturday was a treat with the Resfest screening of Spike Jonze Rarities, including of course, his most hilarious role as Richard Koufey-- the Torrance Community Dance Group's Choreographer (see Fat Boy Slim's "Praise You" video or this page.) Maybe I should volunteeer at Resfest next year, it seems like a pretty awesome gig.

Header Bender

Alright, this is a bit humiliating {especially since I supposedly do this for a living} but how do i get that fucking header to move itself up*? Actually, the problem is between the header and the rest of the blog body, see the huge white gap staring at you? I have too much WHITE SPACE, waaaaay too much. I never thought I'd never say this since I'm basically the president of the Die, Clutter DIE fan club. but there's a difference between White and Dead and what I have is beef jerky (skinned and hung out to dry).

* I never got the TypePad superduper package since I'm a lazy coder, so I can't get into the html or any of the other goodies--