I would like to take the Christ out of Christmas. I mean how many of you actually thought about Jesus being born? None of you. Why?

Because it didn't happen.

So lets get over this Christ business, and just accept the fact that we all like to get each other presents because of the good things we do for each other throughout the year.
We like to decorate our houses and make them pretty because winter is a dark, cold season. Burning fires in a fireplace, and putting up pretty lights only makes sense.
We like to sing songs of winter. Songs that we only sing at winter. Not songs of Christ. But winter.
We like to remind ourselves that spring will come again, and there will be vegetation yet again - so we chop down a tree and stick it in our house to remind us about the green in the future.

Am I right? Do I at least have a point?

I am going to stop feeling guilty about not thinking about Jesus on Christmas. In fact when I have a family, I am going to try to emphasize celebrating winter as a season all its own.

Maybe for every gift we give someone, we have to give a gift to the earth. Or for every tree we cut down, we have to plant another.

Same goes for Santa.



Yo matt from Newport News! Virginia linked up this great Steve Martin Christmas list for his readers. Steve Martin is one of my favorites. Right now I am reading his book The Pleasure of My Company. Highly entertaining. I like laughing. And I like Steve Martin, and I really do honestly like a little Christmas. So listen to this if you like those 3 things together. Thanks.


Lately, when I am bored, I read about Ukraine. This "orange revolution" business is interesting. Have you seen poor Yushchenko's face? I mean that's some serious scandal. Seriously. Ukraine needs a Michael Moore so they can get some fast-paced movie made about that crap.

If you watch Truffaut's The 400 Blows followed by Antoine & Colette, be sure to notice the painting on Antoine's wall of the apartment where he lives across the street from Colette.

Its the jail scene from The 400 Blows.

Last year I think I was feeling more spirit. I mean, what is Christmas spirit? The carols? Caroling?

Jessica invited me to Christmas Eve because she wants to get in the spirit, and knows full-well that I would sit on the couch with her and sing carols while annoying Jason and making asses out of ourselves in front of his friends. I actually can't wait for that, and am going to bake cookies or something tonight for the joyous occasion.

People without immediate families.

Doctors without borders.

Babies without kidneys.

Gathering together for a holiday. Bogus as it may bee.

The feeling that is. I guess its all feelings.

Geez. I have some depressing music on the player right now. A group called Ida. Don't listen to them unless you are planning to jump into the Hudson during your lunchbreak.

In which case, grab my hand & take me with you.


You know things are bad when you are scared to check your bank account.

Christmas is like a credit card. Really.

I wish everyone would not buy anything this year. Its fun to walk around the bazaars and look at all the fun ideas of gifts to give people. But then its like all non-sense. This "spending-of-money" business.

I mean, if its the thought that counts, why can't I just give out notes:
"Babe, I totally wanted to get you the Office special edition DVDs, and you that hott new Canon digi-cam. My thoughts are yours forever, XOXO Anise."
"Mom, I saw this great sewing machine that would be perfect for you. I thought about getting it and thought about it. And wow. I really thought it would be perfect. You should check it out. Thinking of you in a genuine way, Anise"
"Brother, I know you are going to Europe this summer. I am going to miss you & want to go too. So I bought myself a ticket to Paris. Lets meet up! Just wanted to let you know I was thinking about you. Call me once you get this. Love, Anise"
"Grandma, Thanks for the scarves. I saw some beautiful cashmeres the other day and thought of you. And thats always fun! Love you more than Chanel, Anise."

You get the point.

Save your money. Save it for a house. All money is in real estate anyway.

I went to Tom's open-house/Christmas party last night in South Orange to witness first hand AGAIN that all the money that is to be made is in Real Estate.

Just as much as I wish that people in my office area would have gotten up and walked out in protest of moving to Jersey; just as much as I wish people wouldn't return from vacations; I wish people would not spend money at Christmas-time.



Last winter I set out to conquer American cinema. I did a fine job of doing so. This winter I have set out to conquer French cinema. I thought I would start easy, with a little Truffaut. I am halfway through his collection of work. My fave so far is Jules et Jim. The pic on the right is my fave scene. But who knows at this point - I feel like Stolen Kisses might take up number one seat - but I am not finished with the movie yet.
For the most part I have been in the mood to watch movies with sub-titles. I have to say that after 7 movies in French, I am starting to understand some words, and dream in French. So I decided I might as well get some kind of French CDs to listen to on my way to and fro.
So anyway - First Truffaut, then Godard, then Renoir. Maybe that will get me through the winter.


oh wow. Look at how I swooped the camera from left to right in an upwards diagonal manner whilst taking a picture of the Christmas tree. How teriffeek!


today i sat on the weed-littered pier in hopes that a pigeon would shit on me.

i need the luck.


Well I am sad to write that Kenai(keen-eye), and her fabulous marathon-running parents will be moving with their 1-year old baby to North Carolina. It all happened last week. It makes perfect sense really. I mean, Manhattan is no place for an active dog & baby. So go to Raleigh they must.

Robin and I walked the dog in Central Park every Thursday. After walking Kenai, we always ate dinner at the local sushi joint and shared a fried banana with green tea ice cream. I have to say it was a little hard to hold back a special tear that I have in my dog-loving heart. Thursdays will never be the same again. booooo.

So here are pics from our last walk with the sweetest dog I ever knew. The dog that I met through a job interview that is named after my hometown in AK - Kenai.

This is Robin attempting to put a hat on Kenai. You can tell in Kenai's face what she thinks of us trying to take a picture of her in a hat. Basically she thinks we are nuts.
She's a smart dog.
(But R & I aren't half as nuts as these people that had a bar-mitzvah for their dog...)

Here we have Kenai & Robin waiting outside a local pizza joint. Both R & I thought it would be special to feed K some New York City pizza so as not to forget us, or NYC pizza. So there they are waiting.

Here, we have The Little Miss giving Poochy-Face a treat. I think this composition is pleasing. We are in Central Park around West 94th street.

Again, we like giving this dog treats. Maybe thats why she likes us so much.

Are you feeling the love yet? Hope so. This dog was a good dog. I mean, seriously. We were blessed to have her to walk.
Thanks again T & L & S. You rock. Have fun in Raleigh.


Pretty Girl With Wings And Messy Hair.


Santa Doll:
I enjoyed standing outside and urging my friend to break glass with me. After saying that I felt like breaking glass, I threw down my glass snifter, and he threw down his brown beer bottle. it felt great. it got a lot of anger out and onto the pavement.

you should try breaking bottles when you are mad. or sad. or confused. or going through puberty. or having a baby. or getting a divorce. or moving away. or reading a boring blog.

breaking glass seems to be the answer to temporarily feeling better about a situation that might be proving otherwise.

I say temporary because duh, the situation will still exist after you are done breaking glass - but at least you can say

"hey. I care so much that I broke glass over it."

That is soooo Royal Tenebaum. I mean that right there is taking it out and chopping it up.

speaking of which.

I bought Rushmore for 39.95. 43.05 with tax.


I guess I was suckered. I had to buy the movie tho, because I needed the movie. I bought Royal Tenebaums 4 days ago for 29.95. I have watched it 3 times since. 1 time with commentary.

As per the cost of Rushmore. May I ask why Rushmore is ten dollars more than Royal T's at both Towers & Virgins??

And whats the big deal about Criterion Collections? Both movies are billed as being Criterion Collections and so the cost is like 10 dollars higher than other commoner DVD's.

The dreaded kid at Tower says that its "all special n'shit". So I guess I am now the owner of 2 special n'shit movies. For 43.05 I feel like I should be having a Rushmore party or something. Those special features had better literally knock my socks off.

Or move me to break more glass. One of the 2.


last night I called my friend to tell him about the party I had just left. I listed the names of people in attendance - hillary, chelsea, ian, alec, paul, and al.
My friend in response said, "jesus."

this week is my social week. my 9-5 life (read 7-4) has all of a sudden been hung by a electrical cord noose over a musty leaking sewage plant. my 5pm - 12pm life has all of a sudden taken a turn for the mysteriously SOCIAL. my calendar week reads like a 1986 rolodex found at the 59th street stop on the N/R.

one should not eat salt in the morning. or sugar.

so last night, right after entering the fancy "talking party" I saw Julie and gave her a bright hello. Right in front of some somebody, we both went to kiss the same cheek, and ended up kissing each other on the lips.

Talk about embarrassing. so more important than shaking chelsea and ian's hands, I kissed my first girl.

We were later joking about the kiss and I was like "gosh that was just horribly embarrassing!" and my (hot girlfriend) was like "well it wasn't THAT bad". Then I was reminded of a rumor that was being spread around the office a few years back (my old office) about how (my hot new girlfriend) and my boss were supposed secret lovers (totally NOT true. the rumor was started by a delusional seamstress grieving after her husbands death.) So I mentioned the rumor and we all had a good laugh. Then Kristin of course was a little offended that she hadn’t gotten a kiss...

Maybe tonight Kristin, but then again Taylor's suit was really classy - can I kiss him instead? Pretty please?

one more comment on my 9-5 (read 7-4) life: my new commute to the correctional facility involves me looking at "the pit" twice daily. In the morning its like that one scene in "The 25th Hour" where they all of a sudden look out from the tribeca loft and -DA DA DA- see. the. pit.
At night its just black, wet, and miserable. not really like the florescent misery it is in the morning.

those are my 2 cents in the form of 378 words.


Fast Food Nation is The Jungle of the 90's.


I noticed these pictures at Robin's hippie new-age private school. I thought they were worth a snap. I don't know who drew them tho. And I don't know the age. But I am guessing maybe a 12 year old? dunno.


Every year I spend the weekend right after Thanksgiving in Rye setting up for Christmas. Its quite the party. The folks leave for Florida, and Dawn & I are left in charge of the rugrats - Little Miles & Not-so-baby Reid. So party we must.
(While trimming the tree of course.)
This weekend was extra special. I ran from my office to Grand Central. Right when I got to the house, I said "where's the candy!" and we all chowed down. (proof below:)

Then we went screaming into the backyard and jumped on the trampoline for about 15 minutes. Hooting & hollering forced some neighbors to turn their lights on & peer out the windows... I think we were chanting something like "WE'RE GONNA ROCK!" Something really stupid like that.
Background: Dawn & I have been known to hijack the kids and teach them campfire songs while circling Manursing Island in a canoe.
Here's Dawn. She's fantastic, and can spend money like it grows on trees.

Here is a picture of the boys & I getting the tree. I didn't want to waste any time strapping the dang thing to the top, so we stuffed it inside!

Here is a picture of Reid getting all liquored up. Just kidding. We made spritzer lemonades with frozen strawberries and had a weekend toast. No children were harmed in the process.

And thats all folks! The weekend was a success. Tree is up. Wreaths have been hung. And we even trimmed a Charlie Brown tree for the kitchen table. Not too shabby if you ask me.


gosh I had this really graphic dream about living with Bukowski. I just remembered my dream in an email to my friend.

Please are packing up things around me. its rather disturbing. None of us want to go.

There is a pit in my stomach - or gut - and it does not want to go.

it has to go to Jersey City.

It does not want to go. My brain can't even figure out how to get there.

It does not want to go.


My mom sent me a one-line message about her visit not being mentioned on my blog. I sent her a message back: "I don't feel like it." She didn't respond - so I started to feel guilty and am now going to post about my mom visiting me. The post is going to be called:

How I Learned To Sit Up Straight or All Weekend I Get To Hug My Mom.

This is a picture of my mom in 1974. I have been trying to clean it up for the past 5 months - because for some reason or another it has been damaged over the years. It has always been my favorite picture because she has long hair. It's just that simple.

Anyway - like me trying to clean this picture - my mom will be out here for Thanksgiving weekend trying to help me clean up... my (pick one) self/life/outlook.

I have been trying my very best to prepare for her visit - however, since all of my other visitors left town, I have found it monumentally DIFFICULT to get out of bed, walk, or talk. I got my hair cut last night, I divided a pile of clothes into 2 piles of dirty & clean, I plucked a few gray strands and I have been trying very hard to remember to sit up straight.

About the slouching: my mom feels so inclined to take her hand and wack my back when I slouch. This in turn makes me sit up straight. At 19 you hate that - at 27 - you say "thanks."

My mom will also help me clean up my current stale thoughts. She will either help me pack up my things, or help me realize that this is where I need to be. Wow. The pressure is on the woman in charge.

I haven't quite finished cleaning up her picture. And I really doubt that in 5 days my mom will clean up all the bits that I have let get dull and ragged. But we will both TRY. Right? Right.


Oh wow. Don't we feel all warm and fuzzy. Do your pathetic self a favor & chuckle for the next five minutes here.
And if you live in NYC and you are equally Wes Anderson obsessed... check out the movie with me on the 8th of December here.

Thanks and have a great Giving of Thanks. Hugs your moms. Spend money. Eat the breasts of birds.


Today I bought a book I have been wanting but not lusting. "The Pleasure of my Company" by steve martin. I like steve martin and hailed his "Shopgirl" the best book of 2003. (That I had read of course.) So I went to Borders to get "He's Just Not That Into You", and walked out with "The Pleasure of my Company".


This article made me think about my first time at the Museum of Modern Art. I will be there Saturday morning to get my first glimpse - and in order to protest the 20 dollar admission fee.
The MoMA was my first museum to visit after moving to NYC. I was 19. I went to look closely at Pollack, Picasso & another fave at the time that I have since forgotten. I hadn't even made it to the second floor - I turned right after entering the lobby, and was stuck to stillness. Dumbfounded I stared ahead of me at the work of John Currin. Paintings larger than life-size. I thought "this is why I love art". I stood there, grabbed the booklet, and stood there some more. Scrutinizing the details of the lines, thinking about fashion, color, and paint. Thinking about posture, studios, and love.
From that moment and many others that followed in that museum - like the Chuck Close show in 1998 - like the Pollack that I would stare at wondering about paint and movement - like the first time I thought about only buying black clothes; I have always looked forward to my time at the Modern, and look forward to many more experiences like these.


There is nothing that will make you appreciate contacts more - than wearing your glasses for a week straight.


Yeah today the dog froze up during our walk and just stood there looking at robin & i with her back leg raised high in the air.
Not raised to pee by all means - (she is a girl) - raised in pain.
She just stood there.
I looked at Robin.
I looked at how many blocks we were away from the dogs house & owners.
I looked at Robin again. There was no way I was leaving her in the park alone with the 3-legged dog, and there was no way I was sending Robin alone in the wilds of New York City...

So we picked the dog up and walked about 20 steps.

The dog freaked and sprinted home.

Solving the problem.

So that was a fun adventure. Carrying a dog 20 steps in Central Park my comic relief for today. What fun.


Wow. iTunes has really got me in a clinch this time.

Whats a clinch?

Something that grabs you and doesn't let you go. Its a cross between a bind, a siv, and having someone hold your hands behind your back in that twisting hurting way.

Or maybe its like when Luke Skywalker & Princess Laya - Maybe Java & R2D2 were there too - were caught in that hallway with slowly closing walls, that would eventually squish them.

Thats a clinch.

iTunes has me in one right now because they have an "iTunes Original" about Jack Johnson - my favorite artist of 2004. They have commentary on songs that I already own. So to get the commentary - I am going to have to buy the album - just to hear why he wrote this and that and him and her.

I just might do it. I am in that kind of mood today. Taking taxis here and there. Buying music about this and that.


Midtown Nightmare

59 to 57
3 stops for 2 numbers
"I like to read the New Yorker on the train"
"We should really hook up that cable."
"We watch TV before going to bed. Its not like we are tv junkies"
"I only have time to read on the train"


Something you can only say if you work in a skyscraper & you see your co-worker at the bagel shop on the street before work:

See you up there.


Um, the Incredibles & Polar Express were EQUALLY awesome. I snuck into Polar Express because I knew I would never see the dang thing on a ten dollar ticket - and Robin had already seen it at the IMAX screening with her Dad. I felt a little dirty sitting there in a packed theatre, while a 3 year old stood next to me, seatless.

just kidding.

Anyway, I was almost going to get to take Robin to the screening becaus Doug has been on his deathbed - but Becky was here, and he said that wouldn't have been fair to my guest. So I agreed - and Beckster & I went out and had a night of pure fire & chains baby.
Seriously tho - The Incredibles is a good family movie. And Polar Express will bring out the kid in you.


Seriously I really love Friday's at my job. Today I have no boss, so I have been editing photos listening to Air & Dean-o.
The other night at Brandy's my friends & I got a little frisky. I loved hearing the report from my sober friend that stopped by. He said taht at one point he looked at the piano, and saw 2 pairs of legs sticking out and the piano player smiling. He said it looked like my friends were blowing the piano player. This makes me happy.
I of course remember none of that. ahhaha. The lovely lovely lovely drug gin & tequilla. Not so lovely on my mind, so here is Gentle on My Mind (i like the Dean Martin Version - but its more famously known as a Presley song:

It's knowin' that your door is always open
And you path is free to walk
That makes me tend to keep my sleeping bag rolled up
And stashed behind your couch

It's knowin' I'm not shackled
By forgotten words and bonds
And the heat stains that have dried up on some lovin'
That keeps you in the back roads
By the rivers of my memory
It keeps you ever gentle on my mind

It's not clinging to the rocks and ivy
Planted on their columns now that binds me
Or something that somebody said
Because they thought we'd fit together walking
It's just knowing that the world will not be cursin'
Or forgiving when I walk along some railroad track and find
That you're moving on the back roads
By the rivers of my memory and for hours
You're just gentle on my mind

I dip my cup of soup from a gurgling,
cracking cauldron in some train yard
I'm barely runnin' cold how
Have a dirty hat pulled low across my face
Cupped hands around the tin cans
I pretend to hold you to my breast and find
That you're wavin' from the back roads
By the rivers of my memory
Ever smiling ever gentle on my mind


Well I am happy to report that I finally sang a song at a piano bar. Its official. I can leave NYC with a no regrets. I sang River by Joni Mitchell. Here are the lyrics:

It's coming on Christmas
They're cutting down trees
They're putting up reindeer
And singing songs of joy and peace
Oh I wish I had a river
I could skate away on

But it don't snow here
It stays pretty green
I'm going to make a lot of money
Then I'm going to quit this crazy scene
I wish I had a river
I could skate away on
I wish I had a river so long
I would teach my feet to fly
Oh I wish I had a river
I could skate away on
I made my baby cry

He tried hard to help me
You know, he put me at ease
And he loved me so naughty
Made me weak in the knees
Oh I wish I had a river
I could skate away on

I'm so hard to handle
I'm selfish and I'm sad
Now I've gone and lost the best baby
That I ever had
Oh I wish I had a river
I could skate away on
I wish I had a river so long
I would teach my feet to fly
Oh I wish I had a river
I made my baby say goodbye

It's coming on Christmas
They're cutting down trees
They're putting up reindeer
And singing songs of joy and peace
I wish I had a river
I could skate away on


Today - well for the past month - I have been feeling my hair gray. I find about 1 gray hair a month now in my hair. Particularly the front part of my head in my bangs. I find small gray hairs. Maybe in one years time I will find 2 gray hairs a month.

I feel hair turning gray because it feels drier and more coarse. It makes me feel dry and old.

Sometimes I think that if I move away, then I will no longer get gray hairs because I will not be stressed. But then I go to a place like Alaska (where there is no or little stress) and see Gray hairs - so that blows that theory up the ass.


Lately I have been feeling incredibly private. I want to write things in this format - on a blog because it is easy to keep track of. I don't want to erase the whole thing tho because I have the web-address, and have a year & a half worth of thoughts on the dang thing.
But the number one reason why i want to keep this is that I am writing this more for my future. I know I have said that before. I actually mean it. And I actually feel violated that I shared it with everyone.

Especially my office. It embarrassing to me.

Anyway - So I am going to continue to post in this format - but not make it public.


Things that I don't want to forget from my weekend with the Alaska visitors:
1. Todd signing Frank Sinatra at a piano bar.
2. Jeff being able to see some Giants players at the Back Page. He is into Fantasy Football - so it made me happy that on his last night here he got the chance to watch Monday night football with real Giants.
3. Dancing on Friday & being entertained by Stuart or "Stu" as Todd was calling him all night. Having red state/blue state conversations over pizza at 4am. "Nothing like our night out with Stu!" - T.J.
4. Making everyone buy and apple and eat it in Union Square. ahah.
5. Getting ready for our day with Dean Martin & Todd singing in the background.
6. Making everyone watch Spellbound and then having to put the dang thing on pause like 8 times because we were talking to each other so much and laughing and being hyper. We ended up just shutting the movie off and looking at scrapbooks and reading old letters from Monique in high school. "Dear Anise, Why are people so strange?"
7. Moe's story about Paula Radcliff, and then SEEING her at the Letterman.
8. During our last night out - we were eating dinner at Panorama Cafe. Todd pointed toward the window and said "would you look at that!" It was the Rockefeller Christmas tree on a flatbed truck being trucked to Rockefeller center!!! What luck!
9. Seeing Moe on 1st avenue in the marathon and just going crazy. It was the best.
10. Riding the train in the morning to the Verrazano Bridge and meeting another runner who helped us with questions we had. We were so excited all day about the silly race - that I literally got the "chills" about once an hour. There is something about being in support of an activity that is ultimately "good" like supporting health and such.
11. The fitness expo at the Javitz center was really fun - Randi Marie and I got free samples, and everyone got excited about the possibility of going to Paris in April.
12. Playing tour guide - its one of my favorite things.
13. The pasta dinner the night before the race. Tony's was great. SO MUCH FOOD. ahhh.
14. Chinatown on Friday night was fun. A time when we all just kind of chatted about the day & ate great food together.
15. Monique asking David Letterman: "Oprah ran the Chicago Marathon, do you have any plans on running the New York Marathon?"


Monique ran the NYC ING Marathon on Sunday. She finished 14000 something out of 40000 with a time of 4:12. Job well done if you ask me. Some cool things that she made note of included:
1. Running through the Hasidic neighborhood in Brooklyn was especially eerie because no one was shouting - everyone was just standing there clapping. All of the children were dressed identical to the other, and the men were standing in the back while the women just stood near the front holding strollers. She also noticed that there were more twins than usual. Or maybe it was just the fact that all the children were dressed alike.
2. Running through the Bronx was the most fun because all of the black women really get into hooting and hollering. She felt famous. She had her name on her shirt (compliments of niketown) and so people would just start yelling her name like "YO GO GIRL! YOU RUN THAT MARATHON MONIQUE!!" So that must have been fun. Also - apparently they all handed out candy & chocolates in the Bronx. Fun stuff.
3. Gatorade was served every other mile. At the Gatorade stations, she said the street was literally STICKY for 1/4 a mile. She worried that she might trip on the cups that literally LINED the streets.

Todd being competative by nature, said at the expo that if Monique ran the marathon in under 4 hours, that we would all be going to Paris in April to run the marathon there.
Well she didn't finish in less than 4 hours - but since we all had so much fun together everyone is planning on meeting up next year in Florence and running the marathon there in November. Exciting.


RandiMarie: It seems like everywhere in Manhattan has low water pressure.
Anise: That's because we are all sharing.

Todd: Anise that was just great. Good one.


Responses I get when I spend the last 15 minutes of my day text messaging "Viva la BUSH !" to all of my hard-core Democratic friends...

10:38pm - Hmmmm
10:38pm - Yay shitbrains!
10:41pm - R U Serious
10:42pm - 4 more wars!
10:48pm - no thanks to eskimos
10:49pm - crackhead
10:49pm - Natzi
10:52pm - Now you sound like a true repulican
10:57pm - Civil War - lets secede
10:57pm - He will make us safer because jesus loves him
07:02am - See You In Iraq!

Aren't we all just a HOOT!


Three people sitting on a rock by a tree in a park.

The Morning After by The English Visitor.

My fave view of CP. Yesterday was absolutely bone-marrow THRILLING.


There are certain albums for certain times. Now is the time to revisit Air - Moon Safari. The track "All I Need" simply put - hits that chord that runs up your spine.

Kelly Watch The Stars -

So anyway I have been not so interested in sharing my goings and doings and leavings and sayings with eyeballs that read computer screens. So I haven't really written all too much - or I get all schitzo and write, and then make it disappear like magic. Easily put - I am feeling quiet.

Yesterday a wonderful thing happened to me directly. I would like to say to the "wonderful giver gods" that I am grateful. Sometimes people are given second chances, watched out for, nourished, washed, etc. for no good reason except humanity. People its true. We really all do have some kind of 'thing' looking out for us. We do.

Yet here I write.

I got an email yesterday from a girl who said she went out and bought Antics because of what I wrote about the album. I don't remember what I wrote but I thought to myself "huh - the reason I listen to track 6 is because of what someone else wrote."

As far as current music goes - I have been listening to a lot of Arcade Fire. I walked in the pouring rain on a Friday night from Virgin to Other Music just to buy the dang thing. So it’s great that I like the album. It got me off the Antics kick. Funeral is the name of the album because while they were recording, family members kept dying... Its the only band that I have actually attempted to get ticket too this year. I didn't get tickets, and am now a little saddened that this might possibly be the first fall that I don't go to a show. Anyway the album is perfect for changing leaves and riding city buses. It's also perfect to have playing while your pipes smell of new warm heat while watching mute tv & playing solitaire.

Dan the Automator - A Much Better Tommorrow - King of NY, is great to have on while painting. And its great to have on while you are getting dressed. It will really set the mood and make you ready for the street.

Not that you are a hooker or anything - but I assume you want to rock out. Specially in NYC baby.

Current short-film script I am thinking about:
Basically it involves a crippled woman who can't really walk. She is one of those cripples that have short tiny legs, and shuffles around with a walker. She is quiet, and top heavy.
The film would be her getting ready for a daily walk.
Very slow, very quiet.
No music.
Show her hoisting herself out of bed.
Crawling around her apartment.
Toasting Bread.
Natural light - no yellow or blue lighting.
She has a white sheet tacked over her one window.
She is 57 and slightly hunchback.
Hair is a nasty gray.
She lives on 12th street between 5 and 6.
She sits on her bed, buttons shirt buttons, slides into small black stretch pants.
She gathers her walker, leaves the apartment and inches toward the elevator button.
The elevator delivers her to a lobby.
There is no doorman. She inches her way onto the street.
She does not take one step in any direction on the sidewalk, and heads straight into traffic.
Looking straight ahead.
She is not hit by a car - cars swerve this way and that.
She makes it to the other side
And then we see her inch towards a deli to buy more toast, buy more corn, and buy more jam.
Next morning. Same thing.
After watching this about 3 times, it is made clear that she is trying to get hit by a car.
So the anticipation builds with every day.
Then one day she is hit by a car and is killed.
Then the film would fade to black.
The film would be called HOPE.

Well that’s all I have to say today. I am excited about my "English Visitor". I am going to make a point of calling her my "English Visitor" all weekend, because while I was visiting her one year ago in Liverpool, she would always call me her "Amerercan Friend". So as a way to really stick it to her - I will be calling her my "English Visitor".


Public Service Announcement:

I think this "Vote or Die" business is a little silly. I mean are we really going to die if we don't vote?

Are we REALLY?

So if you have been having mixed reactions about the candidates - might I suggest you watch the season premiere of South Park. It was on last night, and the episode is called Douche and Terd. If you missed the episode, start crying now. If you can get that episode by whatever means possible - tivo, direct tv, cable, streaking through the park naked, whatever. Get it. Watch it.

I kind of want to be Towlie for Halloween so I can just walk around and say that I have no idea whats going on and ask people if they wanna get high. And I kind of want to be Cartman's mom because that is an easy costume, and I could offer everyone Cheesy Poofs. I am probably going to be nothing because I don't feel like being anything. That aside, Rodrigo is thinking about being Chef. If you know Rodrigo, you know that he kind of looks like Chef. I want him to Chef. Lets all have Rodrigo be Chef, and lets all forget about this "Vote or Die" business, and vote for "Rodrigo for Chef or Die" for Halloween.

Love yah.


When all is said and plucked, who can tell the difference between a chicken & a turkey??

I asked the poultry man at Fairway.


You haven't really lived until you end your night/begin your morning sipping last calls with Vietnam vets at the quiet, always dark & festive Wicked Wolf bar on 75th & 1st.

You really haven't lived. You know nothing until that point.


Its like Morrisey croons:

Some girls are bigger than others
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girls mothers, are bigger than other girls mothers.


Well 3 cheers for those dirty hippies up in Boston. Being so enamored by dirty hippies myself, I actually compiled a list of comments & websites around the internet dedicated to Johnny's plethora of hair. Let me just edit it down to my fave comment from ESPN writer Jim Caple:
"When Damon showed up this spring with wild, shoulder-length hair and a full beard, the only things he was missing were a volleyball named Wilson and a Fed Ex package under his arm."

About 5 people in my office are on "suicide watch" today. It confused the new girl when the big boss announced that so & so was on suicide watch. She asks the big boss "is that like E-Watch??"


A really great riddle about nothing:

What do the rich need, that the poor have?
It is greater than God, and if you eat it you die.

And no, its not a fluffy miniature dog on a city beach....


Alone With Everybody by Charles Bukowski

the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
and nobody finds the
but keep
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than

there's no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular

nobody ever finds
the one.

the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill

nothing else



While making a CD last morning, I discovered that Interpol followed by Frank Sinatra is just STELLAR. I mean really exciting.

Try this with me:

Interpol - Obstacle 1 (she holds the weight...)
Frankie - Nice & Easy

Stellar! Borderline Shocking!!
If you need the tracks - email my gmail -

You know that reminds me of rhyming, which remind me of my missing lunch buddy who has a first name that rhymes with his last name. The reason I like him is because he is the best listener I have ever met. He just listens, next thing I know, I've told the kid my whole life story. And then when he does speak, he always says things in my favor! Like "wow that guy is a loser" or "you can get better" or "nice sweater today" things that people put quarters in machines to hear. So anyway he is on his honeymoon with his equally awesome wife. They are in California, and I am here having lunch roaming around Roy Rogers with Subway Sandwiches by myself. boo.

Frank Sinatra will always remind me of fall because I discovered him in the fall one year. Last year was Judy. Three years ago - Ella. 5 years ago - Peggy Lee. I think this year I might try Dean Martin. I want to discover one ballad singer every year during Autumn. Actually you know this year I think I might study Edith Piaf. Even tho she is French, she definitely has an NYC feel.

I like this review of Antics the best.
After much debate, I would like to say that number 7 on Antics is my favorite and with that I will link to the lyrics. This is the one that you turn up really loud about 2 minutes & 45 seconds into the song and wish that the whole song were that pace. The one that makes you devo-out for 34 seconds and dance like Stipe or a mirror of how you dance to Radiohead or well, Turn on the Bright Lights.
One of my favorite things to do at work is talk like Claire Fischer.
I am reading a book that just got off a plane from California one week ago, but was purchased at the Strand for 11.30, and caused me to wonder if I should disinfect the book because of its mystery previous owners. Anyway the best part of the travelling book goes a little like this:

If you want to know how you really feel about someone, take note of the impression an unexpected letter from him makes on you when you first see it on the doormat.
Said Schopenhauer.


So today I made a mixed tape and a letter for my friend who is in a town where the debates are happening tonight. The same town that houses the college of my little brother, and the same town where my twin friends Gretchen & Ginger moved in the 4th grade.

I enjoyed them, but they lived by the prison called "Wildwood", so we never played at their house. The same prison that my littlest brother & I would later explore on bikes, trying to reenact E.T.

Our bikes never left the ground.

On Sunday I put my favorite Sunday activities in order:
1. laying on the couch with a head-ache while watching TLC & spooning a needy yellow lab who rests her heavy head in my arms.
2. painting trim while listening to Joni Mitchell records & humming.
4. waking up early and running, and then laying in bed again and listening to the radio (studio 360 & This American Life) between 1&4 while the sun is shining in my window like a sailboat.
5. riding some random subway alone to the end and walking around.

Something I realized last night is that sometimes life is more medical than miracle.

View of and through windows that I see every day.


A shot of all shots.
I am officially obsessed with Cate Edwards. I thought the interest would fade yesterday after searching "Cate Edwards" photos on the AP Archive. But no. Today I searched Getty, Wireimage, Google images, and my own work database - Newscom.
So there you have it.
Cate Edwards does research at Vanity Fair, and enjoys soccer, campaigning for her dad, and coffee.
I like that she likes swimming. Swimmers a a-okay in my book.
Yah know, I am really not feeling the Kerry sisters. Something is really awkward about the both of them when they stand next to each other. It's like an ostrich and a flamingo being friends or something.
And the Bush twins are like the MaryKate & Ashley of Politics. Actually yeah - MaryKate & Ashley are to Hollywood what The Bush Twins are to Politics.


With blogs that are older than 3 years you get to go through major events with the author: maybe dating, a wedding, pregnancy, or maybe even death in the family.
So I was just reading one of my favorite blogs that covers basically all the aforementioned, and wondered what events were more popular - Was it her wedding? or did more people start reading after she had her first baby? Or was she more popular when she was single and writing about dating?
It would be interesting to see her sitemeter and it would be cool to see what people are there for. I am sure she wonders about this 34 more times than I do.

Or did.

Did you know that the reason they started putting mud on pre-game major league baseballs is because in the 30's someone was hit & killed by a ball slipping out of the pitchers' hand?
The (Blackburne) mud is actually famous, and is only found in an undisclosed swamp in New Jersey.

Again. Can I see a raise of hands in favor of the Jerz?

I saw Kevin Bacon the other day. I was about 6 feet away from him, and he looked me in the eyes and then looked away. I then told Robin about a "fun game you can look forward to playing in college" called Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon.

I like the new Interpol. But don't you feel like 3 & 4 are kind of the same? Like maybe they should have separated them on the album. I never know when 4 starts, because its in the same key as 3. Or maybe that was the point.
3 is a love song.
4 is a life-together song.
I like 3 more. But then sometimes I like 4.

Oh yeah. and don't you think Interpol sounds like early REM sometimes?


The reason I wear cashmere is the same reason I wear perfume.


How To Make Roasted Apple Jim Beam Shots:

1. Build a kick-ass fire.

2. Get a sharp scary knife.

3. Smile, and carve out the core to shotglass-size.

4. Fill new core with Jim Beam & place on campfire.

5. Shoot Jim, and take a bite.


Every Thursday, as a treat to Robin, we take the dog Kenai for a walk in Central Park. This is under the agreement that she is on her best behavior all week - weekends included.
The first week we could not go walk Kenai because she (as Doug so eloquently stated) was acting like a damn fool. So we stuck to our guns about the agreement so she would know we mean business.

Ever since that week, Robin has been the model 9 year old.

Practically every day I am in semi-shock about it. In reality, Robin has a nasty streak. She acts up in class, she talks back to everyone, and she whines when she does not get her way.

I don't blame her. I'd whine too if it worked.

Either way, the dog bribe seems to be working. She wants a dog more than she wants life & since she is not allowed to get a dog; we get to walk Kenai. You get the picture.

Last night during a quiet moment over dinner, I asked her a serious question:

Robin? Has behaving in school been difficult for you?
She silently gave me a sincere nod in the affirmative.
Do you miss acting up?
Kind of.
Its probably really hard staying quiet when you really want to shout and jump around, right?
It is really hard. But its worth it.
I guess it is.


If you would like to have lunch in a World War 2 time warp, please go to Prime Burger on 51st between 5th and Madison. The burgers are the size they would have been during the war.
The waiter is named Artie.
The guy who washes dishes doesn't work on Wednesday because as he said to the regular "bible study on Wednesday"
The cashier knew men at Pearl Harbor.
The cost with soda was 5 dollars.


Hands Up
September Unsent Text Messages:
+ Slow down my beating heart
+ 32 34 30 31 21
+ I try to delete you. And then I dont
+ Certain dads retire in NJ.
+ Hes no longer funny to me - more of a constantly losing offense.
+ I would have rather watched pigeons eat my four dollars in birdseed at prospect park.


Its just one of those days where I click around craigslist looking for something.

With another head being spared via a 'google search' in Afghanistan, google can now officially say that they save lives. If you didn't see the article - just google something like "journalist life spared via google search" something like that. I am sure you are bound to find something. I am already in a different screen & too lazy to look it up for you. Plus, you probably already read that last week.

Maybe even last year.

My cousin David is being shipped to Afghanistan next month. It ain't no Iraq, but it ain't no Georgia either.

I was finishing up the planning for my camping trip this weekend, and I thought "why all this planning for one night of sleeping outside?"
Stuart IS right - I DO plan my life like an ant.
He say's its exhilarating to be around.
I don't really believe him.

This morning as I was taking a shower all I could think about was the fact that there is no Lord of The Rings to look forward too. For the last three years, there was this additional excitement and "countdown feeling" in the air. Sure, the autumn breezes were nice, but they were REALLY nice knowing that in November I would be going to a warm toasty movie theatre to watch a warm toasty epic.

I have a screening pass on my desk to "i ♥ huckabees". It's not half as thrilling as the prospect of a new LOTR.

Seems fitting that it would rain on the day of the sophmore Interpol release.

Anyway my screening pass is just staring at me. Waiting for me to make plans around it. I am trying my best not to plan. I really don't want to be an ant. I could do with being an aunt maybe in 5 years, but an ant the insect does not interest me. People step on them and don't think twice.


Yesterday I had such a nice little Manhattan experience of chance. I was painting an office on Madison.
Hold on, let me back up.
I lost my cell phone. A few hours later, I called my voicemail, and picked up a message from a girl named Alissia who had found my cell phone in a taxi cab. She wanted me to call her as soon as I got the message. So I called Alissia, and we chatted about losing cell phones.
She told me that she is a personal assistant, and last week her boss lost her cell phone. Once her bosses cell phone was found, Alissia lost her own cell phone. On her way to pick up her lost cell phone, she looked down on the cab floor, and found my cell phone.
Strange things happen sometimes.
I told her good things happen in 3's, and she told me to that she was a bartender at Michael Jordan's in Grand Central. I could pick my phone up there.
So I was in the middle of painting, and decided to take a little Madison Avenue stroll and walked down to Grand Central to get my phone. I figured I should get Alissia something special, so I stopped in one of my favorite shops - the MTA Subway shop, and bought the nice girl a deck of I Love NY cards.
Once I got to her bar, I figured as much that she would offer me a drink. She did. I only wanted water. I drank about 3 glasses. Turns out that Alissia is beautiful. We talked about Minnesota (where she is from) and about boys and taxi cabs and losing cell phones. I felt like in some way I was meeting some kind of kindred spirit.
I did have to get back to painting, so I finished my water with lemon, and said good bye to my new friend - letting her know that I would try to stop by every Sunday evening for the weekend nightcap.
So if you are ever at Michael Jordan's bar in GCT - ask for Alissia, and tell her Anise sent you. She makes a refreshing glass of water.


Blogger Scandal!!!

Does anyone know what happened with the "ifoundsomeofyourlife" blog??? Jordan - if you are out there, please write. When you commented on my site, you didn't leave an email address. I was dying to know who the celebrity was. Did some of those kids actually find out about the site? I need answers. It was highly entertaining.


Jason Schwartzman is starting to look a little bit like Tom Cruise. At least in I heart the Huckabees, he looks like Tom.


This lunch break, I went to a Bergie event. I entered a lottery, and am now wearing the latest YSL perfume.
If you see me today, please request to smell my wrist. You won't be disappointed.
After my free cocktail, I was walking around thinking "there's nothing like a stiff drink in the middle of a day". I am not a big fan of alcohol, but I can appreciate.
On my walk around the middle of town, I passed a psychic and considered dropping ten on her velvet curtains. Mona once told me to never spend money on psychics, so I don't. I follow most of her advice because it just seems like she is really speaking from experience, and because she is so diligent about dishing it. However. I walked against Mona's better judgment, and buzzed the psychic on level 2. Blame it on the recent Diana article in VF this month. What I got was a woman who told me to return in ten. I decided like most things in the past two months, that it wasn't meant to be, and kept my ten.
If I had listened with her and had let someone lightly brush my palm - I would have missed seeing Anna Wintour. Looking a little insecure as she breezed by, she is one of those famous people that cause me to automatically punch the sky and say "yyyyyesss!"
So after saying "yes" I continued walking back to my desk, one-drink-in, carting around my ten dollar untold future.
Interview with a negative stubborn copycat:
me: Can I interview you?
them: No. Can I interview you?
me: No. Why can't I interview you?
them: I dunno. Why can't I interview you?
me: I dunno.
Did you know that old NYC subway cars are dumped in the Atlantic Ocean off the coasts of both New Jersey and South Carolina in order to make artificial reefs to preserve marine life??

How cool is that? If you think it is super-cool, you can actually go on a scuba diving trip that will teach you about the whole process. Score 2 more for the Jerse.

Don't you think that Ben Affleck is starting to resemble James Gandolfini??

I tried watching "The Wire" last night. I want to get into another HBO show, because I love the BO so much. I think I am going to have to start at the beginning tho. How about Entourage. What a show. I like it as much as I like watching those VH1 shows about how much Brit spends to get her hair done or how Paris & Nicky & Ritchie go shopping and how they all shuffle through their bags for the nearest credit card at the register - paying not mind to whose is charged.