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.