ANYC: 03.05

I went over to San Francisco to get a transfer with my job, and check things out. I liked what I saw, and I got the transfer.

Here is my new office. Kinda looks like NYC, right?

But not quite.
I gotta switch gears like a cable-car yo.

Cities have different languages. I obviously know NYC language. For example - Greenwhich is pronounced Gren-itch, Flat-iron is not Flateron, and Howston is not Hewston.
I am pretty sure I messed up one word already - because I got a strange look when I asked about "Minna" street - and pronounced it Minna - when it should have been Mean-ah.

My fave part of the trip was taking a ferry over to Marin County - where I plan on living - not immediately - its going to have to be put on hold for a few months - because i want to try the city for a little bit.

I repeat. A little bit. I am tired of pavement. I want a dog. I don't want to pick up dog shit on pavement - nor do I want my future pooch shitting on pavement. So thats the plan. I went across the bay to investigate.

Here is the boat:

Sausalito is the first town when you enter Marin from the Golden Gate side:

Since it was cloudy, i indulged and took a picture of a little bit o' blue.

I didn't have my camera on me when the sun was shining & I was kind of rushed - so thats a little sneak-peek at the new digs.

on a closing note:
San Andreas Fault lyrics from Tigerlily - Natalie Merchant:
go west,
paradise is there
you'll have all that you can eat
of milk and honey over there

you'll be the brightest star
the world has ever seen
sun-baked slender heroine
of film and magazine

go west
paradise is there
you'll have all that you can eat
of milk and honey over there

you'll be the brightest light
the world has ever seen
the dizzy height of a jet-set life
you could never dream

your pale blue eyes
strawberry hair
lips so sweet
skin so fair

your future bright
beyond compare
it's rags to riches
over there

San Andreas Fault
moved it's fingers
through the ground
earth divided
plates collided
such an awful sound

San Andreas Fault
moved its fingers
through the ground
terra cotta shattered
and walls came
tumbling down

o promised land
o wicked ground
build a dream
tear it down

o promised land
what a wicked ground
build a dream
watch it fall down

Don't these pictures look like those creepy victorian pictures they used to take of dead people? Kinda cool. But don't worry, I am not dead yet, and I am not victorian, silly!

I went to the Rodan+Fields counter at Bendels, because Proactive has been eating away at my skin. Joann at the YSL Bergdorf counter sent us over to check it out.
They have this really cool camera at the counter where they take a picture of your skin twice. The first photo is my face as you & I see it. The second image shows the sun damage on my face. yikes! looks like I don't really put sunscreen on around my chin/cheeks area. I thought mine was bad, but then my friend had hers done, and YOWSER. her face was BLACK in the second image. literally.

So for the rest of the afternoon I called her Shanikwa.

I am reading a travel book called Coastal California published by Compass American Guides. Its such a shiny little gem! Here is a typical passage describing a walk through San Francisco:

"The last time I took in the view from Coit Tower was one of those beautiful clear mornings, when the cerulean sky above San Francisco Bay was streaked with fair-weather cirrus clouds, and house finches were singing in the shrubbery of tiny city backyards."

Now isn't that a sentence for the folks back home. If only all travel books were so eloquent. Bravo John Doerper. Bravo.

Sitting on Broadway after
Lenape performance with paper-mache deer.

Swatskey and her blogskey.

Today is a springy day in Anise world, and today is hamster day in Robin world.

She has been talking about getting a hamster for the past 10 days, and spends about the first hour of our meetings talking about getting a hamster. I find myself going like this, while she blabs about hamsters.


“you don’t really care about hamsters do you?”


So she has been parading the hamster around, and it just fell asleep in her hand. And now she is crying. Well she is not doing it all this very second – I mean, I am blogging for crying out loud.
She WAS crying, and I told her to get in the bath – and leave the hamster alone.
Doug then interjected and said “robin stop crying and leave the god damned hamster alone!”
So then she freaks out even more.
“you know what robin – I will call the pet store, if you get in the bath and chill-out! You and the hamster need to adjust to each other. Now put it back in its cage.”
So she put it back, and is now in the bath.
I called the petstore, and they said what we all thought they would say.
I mean for heaven’s sake. The dang thing left its mother today. The least we could do is let it walk around its new plastic cage, and sniff out its new house.
Robin disagreed however and shouted “well what if you were taken away from your parents today! Wouldn’t you want someone to hold you!”

Yes and no.

So anyway, the hamster is named reeses, and her and Isabel plan on getting another hamster and naming it pieces. Then they both plan on breeding the poor things (if they make it to 3 months) and selling their children on the steps of the Metropolitan.

I want her to tell you all of this – because its far more interesting than anything I have to offer, but she won’t budge, and insists on torturing this fuzzy rodent.

Now she’s out of the bath and yelling “you don’t have to call the pet store anymore!!”

Okay. I wonder how the hamster escaped rodent life. Rats & Mice are still roaming the subway and apartment-wall tunnels.
And now some lucky hamster has a better apartment than me.

Well I did have half-plans to spend Sunday:
1. sleeping!!
2. going suit shopping because of some upcoming job interviews.
Instead I am out in cozy rye, drinking diet pepsis, reading magazines & watching back2back movies.
I saw Out of Africa for the first time. Huh. Great movie. Geesh – I would have gone for Barkley if I was Caren Blixzen. Let the playboy be with all his girls – but Caren was so special, and so was Barkley – I think they should have been together.

Which reminds me. This week I met a boy named Barkley on the PATH train going into the city. We were chatting chatting chatting (he has REALLY great eyes) and then I said - "so where are you headed?"
"where do you work?"
"wow - dressed like that!? What do you do at CVS?" (he was dressed REALLY well)
"no - cBs!"

I will miss rye & family.

I will also miss quiet Grand Central on Sunday nights - when all the "single kids" trek back into the city. Now that I know a bartender at Michael Jordan's bar - some Sundays I will drop in and have a drink with her to recap the week. This Sunday however, Mona is driving into the city for a babyshower.

I like driving in too. In fact, I love driving the Hutchingson Parkway. In college we used to drive into the city - and I would demand everyone take "The Hutch".
Anyway back to rye - it’s the total escape from the city. I guess I could go to the mall and get all that “suit” business taken care of.

Nah. I can do that after work some day this week.

I would much rather just sit here sipping diet cokes and checking websites. Isn’t that what Sunday’s are for?
I think so.

hey. look at the 2005 edition of the neglected skier. You have to admit, she's getting better, right?

this morning i enjoyed the weather. i wore my favorite windbreaker. the one with the upturned collar that makes me feel like i should be walking a great dane or dating sherlock. i wore it and i walked to the subway.
the wet ground & dry sky felt like homer, alaska.
waiting for the walk sign, i thought about school trips we used to take across the bay. i don't like stepping on seaweed, and always felt bad for the barnacles and mussels when the boys would go crunching.
barnacles in general – even when on the old logs, remind me of cysts and acne scars. nothing makes me more queasy than seeing barnacles on a whale. if i were a marine biologist, i would secretly scrape them off the whale. it can’t be beneficial to their complexion.

and then i realized no cars were coming, so i started walking again.

when i was in seattle for those few early northwest hours, i was jumpy. running lights, dodging people. what was i possibly in a hurry for. but still, i tapped my feet on curbs.
"there are no cars! what are these people waiting for! cross!”
hating the feeling of rush.
“just calm down you fool. you have like 6 hours to spend in the city. relax. walk around. have a seat. watch”
“whats going on here? is there a car i can’t see? why aren’t these people crossing the street???!?”
this went on until i decided to give in and follow the seattle groove and not jaywalk. i mean, it got so weird-feeling that i thought maybe they could see some semi on its way down some hill, and i was the fool.
but i was the fool. with all that rushing about.

back to this morning and it being a morning where i looked at grey sky number 88943, and thought about how comforting grey skies can be.
sometimes blue skies have no end – they are so open. its nice every once in a while to know that the clouds are hugging your little city & that you can only see whats in front of you.

9 hours later, i retreated the cloud-protected offce and realized that it had since snowed, i had lost my voice, and a
9 year old was waiting for me to pick her up from school. so i went to get the 9 year old. she was happy. glad to be out of school. we dodged puddles and took the local to 79.
once there, i saw the note:
"anise – broccoli in the steamer, chicken roast in the oven. turn steamer knob to 15, and oven to 175. let sit for about 20 minutes.

he signed it kisses. i felt home-cooked.

so we started playing a hamster game.
i was sitting next to the stove. with the roasted chicken.
she said “anise can i have some chicken?” i said “sure!” stayed seated, opened the stove, pulled out the roasted chicken and plopped it down in front of her.

i thought it was amusing. like a nightmare from pleasantville or something. doug just stood there looking at me (probably because i felt like re-enacting the situation 3 more times), and robin unphased, asked for a fork.

and THAT was my highlight of my day.
~ “sure!” plop. (perfectly roasted chicken on table.) “can i have a fork?” ~

that and bill buying me a crab sandwich from yellas.

Oh golly. wouldn't you know today is my blog's 2nd birthday. already? already. i remember the first day i started this thing. seems like two years ago.
And I still don't have my own computer.
Happy birfday blog. what a moody beast you are. what an unpredictable tyrant of too much information and me me me's. you are the most selfish 2 year old i know. at the moment i don't know any two year olds except you - and damn it all if other two year olds act like you.

So here is a picture of a furry dog. I didn't take the picture. Wouldn't you know this is a picture of a dog on its 2nd birthday? if you google image 2nd birthday - you get a slew of family websites. its really fun. i love family websites. google image birthdays, and you too can share the joy of family websites. yipee!

every kid in new york should at some point in their stay here, have an older native new Yorker there to tell them stories about the way it used to be. my older native new Yorker storyteller is doug - robin's dad. he is a treasure chest. I only want to introduce him to a choice few that won't abuse the treasure. know what I mean? I only have a few friends that really appreciate older people. I just think its too late tho for me to go introducing someone to him, and too much of me to ask that person to stop by and visit him every once in a while.
its not like doug is alone. quite the contrary. but no one asks him questions.
anyway yesterday I asked doug what he thought about judy garland. he told me this story, which I will attempt to relay to you now. oh. doug is a brilliant story teller. so brilliant in fact that I put that quality as one of the things I will require of my husband. so fellas, on top of fixing cars, making a mean pasta sauce, and keeping a full beard, you will have to tell a good story. thanks.

okay so it went like this.

Doug's reporter friend Nick, was out on assignment to cover a Judy Garland concert at an ice skating rink in new jersey.
this was the point in Judy's career before her big comeback. lets just say it was her low point.
so the reporter is at the rink, and knocks on her dressing room door. he enters, and inside the room is Judy, a vanity table, a make-up compact, and a phone.
he sits down, when the phone rings.
she picks it up, and through the receiver Nick can hear:
Mrs. Garland, this is the white house calling.
and then the reporter hears JFK get on the line and say
Yes, Mrs. Garland today is my birthday...

So there in the dressing room at a skating rink in New Jersey,
Judy sang happy birthday to the President of the United States.

I think that’s a great story. this is why every young person in nyc needs a storyteller. don't you

its one of those days where i have a million things in my head, but then when i go write them out - its like "oh. vera drake was a good movie" or "yeah. its fun on wednesday's to treat robin to sushi after work". it all comes out obvious and lacking any kind of wave.

there was one moment today that - wait, actually the moment was last night. i was watching gilmore girls.

wha? disclaimer -
adam asked me once why girls like gilmore girls, and i didn't even have to think about the answer.
guys - we girls like gilmore girls because every girl has this idea that we can do it without you. and that the diner owner (who cooks) is hot and in love with us. and that we will have a beautiful daughter, and rich parents, and all we do all day is bitch about the rich parents but ask them for money, and talk about the hot boys that we date, and have movie nights.
that life fellas - is kind of this secret dream we all had when we were playing dolls...

so anyway. i was watching gilmore girls. it was a good one. whatever. the episode ended with judy garland singing in "A Star is Born". i recognized the song from my judy obsession last last christmas, turned off the tv, and put it in the player.
all of a sudden as i layed down, i felt the spirit of new york. it was great. i started missing midtown, and got all reminiscent of some times here - specifically christmas times, new york bars, 5th avenue, the park.
i wish i could attach the mp3 for you. this song is really really beautiful. and after a long day at work today - it was great to have as a total escape on my way out of the building. even tho its not the same to walk home anymore. the song took me back.
thats the magic of songs. right?
one more thing before i subject you to the lyrics. as i was dozing off last night, i let the player play. and the song that followed the slow song was a song called "San Francisco". Not the tony bennet version. the upbeat "open your golden gate" version. Any sign I can take at this point, I take. I took it as a sign - "New York is not going anywhere. Move on to the next adventure"

Of course thats just me.

Oh and I really love the audience
on that live at carnegie CD of hers. they are so polite and so much more appreciative and gregarious than our audiences today. I feel like i was borne in the wrong decade.

Without further adeui -

The Man That Got Away.

The night is bitter,
The stars have lost their glitter;
The winds grow colder
And suddenly you're older -
And all because of the man that got away.

No more his eager call,
The writing's on the wall;
The dreams you dreamed have all
Gone astray.

The man that won you
Has gone off and undone you.
That great beginning
Has seen the final inning.
Don't know what happened. It's all a crazy game!

No more that all-time thrill,
For you've been through the mill -
And never a new love will
Be the same.

Good riddance, good-bye!
Ev'ry trick of his you're on to.
But, fools will be fools -
And where's he gone to?

The road gets rougher,
It's lonelier and tougher.
With hope you burn up -
Tomorrow he may turn up.
There's just no letup the live-long night and day!

Ever since this world began
There is nothing sadder than
A one-man woman looking for
The man that got away....
The man that got away.