mine

and not to be left out is the crumbled mess of dollar bills.

Posted by lysa at 12:15 PM | Comments (6)

January 30, 2008

Grocery stores have ineffeciant sorting mechanisms

I've mentioned her before, but if you haven't stumbled across Raphaela's Blog yet, go start reading it. She's been on a weight loss kick and is nearly inspiring me to do the same. While I'm not quite at the get back to the gym phase of things, I am starting to watch what I eat. It turns out that I consume a lot more calories than I thought I did. I'm expecting this to be true for a lot of us. Since I joined The Daily Plate I have axed cheese from my salad. That's as far as I am willing to go... for now.

Anyway, the Daily Plate has told me I'm to consume 1467 calories a day. It's now 3:52pm and I have 527 calories left. I figure I'll have some 100 calorie snack and then be on the hunt for my 427 calorie dinner.... which brings me to my point.

Why not have a weight conscious super-market that compartmentalizes food by calories/fat/protein/carbohydrates? Stop thinking rationally, just join me in my fantasy here. You walk into the supermarket after checking your nutritional pie chart ( which is sadly disproportionately carbs ) and need something that's 427 calories and high in protein. Yes, of course I know the answer is fish and veggies, but shouldn't you be able to dynamically sort your supermarket?

I'm picturing virtual shelving. Perfect meals being brought to you with your tastes preferences and nutritional deficiencies in mind.

I wish real life could be written like software.

Posted by lysa at 3:51 PM | Comments (9)

January 22, 2008

Good 'Ol Rydel High

I love blogs. When I have nothing to say and no desire to write someone comes along and throws up a poll/quiz/questionnaire and provides me with fodder. This weeks stolen idea comes from Raphaela who rocks up a storm.

Fill this out about your SENIOR year of high school! The longer ago it was, the more fun the answers will be!!

1. Who was your best friend? K & Mel

2.What sports did you play? My high school didn't have sports. No wonder I never learned what healthy competition was all about.

3. What kind of car did you drive? None, but I feel like I spent most of my days on a bus or in a camero.

4. It's Friday nite...where r u? In the summer? I'm on Manhattan Beach, in the winter, yeah, come to think of it I was probably still on Manhattan Beach.

5. Were you a party animal? Absolutely not.

6. Were you considered a flirt? Was and still am.

7. Were you in band, orchestra, or choir..? Choir

8. Did you ever get suspended/expelled? Got a card sent home for cutting class on Halloween. I went to a hippy school.

9. Can you sing the fight song? No sports, no competition, definitely no fight song.

10. Who were your favorite teachers? Mr. Bennis, panuba!

11. Where did you sit during lunch? In a coffee shop or in a cubby on the first floor.

12. What was your school full name? ERM, and that's as informative as I'm getting before you register me on classmates.com

13. School mascot? No sports, no fightsong, no cheering, no competition and no mascot.

14. Did you go to Prom? yes.

15. If you could go back and do it again, what would you change? I would have brought a taser on my ski trip.

16. What do you remember most about graduation? Running out of that school as fast as I could.

17. Where did you go senior skip day? Umm, a whole lot of my days were senior skip day...

18.Were you in any clubs? Chorus.

19. Where did you go most often for lunch? Caravel

20. Have you gained weight since then? This question should be taken out and shot.

21. Who was your Senior prom date? Wayne.

22. Are you planning on going to your 10 year reunion? It's long gone, and I didn't go.

24. Who was your high school sweetheart? There were a few of them...Some carried over from Jr. High School.

25. Do you still talk to people from high school? Indeed

Posted by lysa at 4:28 PM | Comments (3)

January 14, 2008

Karaoke Revolution

Mothers and daughters usually have, at best, a complicated relationship. The relationship I've had with mine has been silent at best and destructive at its worst. It's true that over the last five years or so we've been able to make small chat, but haven't dared wander back into that place where we bond.

It seems that ever since my engagement I've been promoted to someone she wants to talk to and spend time with. The old adage is true, nothing brings family together like weddings and funerals. I've left my warrior youth behind and have embraced this newfound desire of hers to be in my life. In fact, this past weekend she came into Manhattan by herself ( something rarely done ) and spent the day with my booboo and I looking at photographers.

In between meetings she asked that I rev up my karaoke machine ( which started smoking when I plugged it in, good thing I had a backup! ). We sang karaoke together.

It was another surreal moment for mom and me.

Posted by lysa at 10:47 AM | Comments (7)

January 11, 2008

But why does it have to be in leopard?

A while ago, I posted a story about a taser that was shaped like a tampon. At first I thought this to be a mere coincidence. How fortunate could I be to have another person so concerned about their ability to defend themself?

I'm thrilled to announce that this desire for personal weaponry is expanding into mp3 players. Can I have one for my birthday? Pleeeeaaaassssseee?

Full story located here

Posted by lysa at 1:20 PM | Comments (3)

January 2, 2008

Happy New Years, Baby!

I don't think you can ever know how how good your camera is, or how good of a photographer you are, until you have a baby in front of you. It turns out that I have a really nice camera and some ability to take focused pictures.

There's nothing I can write here that's going to be more precious than that baby up there, so for now, just look at her.

Happy New Years to you and yours,

Posted by lysa at 9:13 AM | Comments (4)

December 26, 2007

i can haz 15 minutes of fame.

The black and white one is my crazy Q, and the attacker is HoneyBee's Jakie.

Vote!

Posted by lysa at 3:57 PM | Comments (6)

December 24, 2007

Merry Christmas

Christmas is interesting. My fiance is a Buddhist, I'm an atheist, and yet we still manage to rack up an insane amount of giftage around the holidays. This year we amassed one PS3, Rock Band, a collection of fresh herbs, an espresso maker, a Simpsons lamp and my new Nikon D40. All I need now are several GPS receivers/trackers and a sick telephoto zoom lens and my lifelong dream of becoming Veronica Mars will be complete!

I'm still an amateur, but even with my abilities you can still see the camera takes some beautiful pictures.

Kitties

Posted by lysa at 9:19 AM | Comments (4)

December 21, 2007

Sure, Mr. That'll be ready on Wednesday. By the way, you have the right to remain silent.

If your last name was Sodomsky and you had a collection of child pornography stored on your hard drive, would you bring your laptop into circuit city to be repaired?

I was under the impression that there was no expectation of privacy when you bring your computers in to be fixed. Apparently, there hasn't been a precedent set for this. We'll just have to encrypt our porn for now, and wait for the Supreme Court to make a decision.

More details here

Posted by lysa at 9:17 AM | Comments (3)

December 17, 2007

Now for the Holidays: Crotch!

It's been difficult for me to come up with things to write about. For one, the things that have been ticking me off lately are all well covered by writers way funnier than me. Secondly, the only unique things I have to go on about involve my upcoming wedding, and I refuse to do entry after entry complaining about vendors and the complete and total lack of professionalism and courtesy for the fact that this is supposed to be the most important...

See, there I go.

Anyway, can someone please tell me what the woman in the above displayed photo is doing? Here I am, looking for some new wool pants because my thighs suffered an inconvenient bout with freezer burn this morning, and Banana Republic is off displaying their new line of easy, breezy crotch wear.

Posted by lysa at 5:37 PM | Comments (5)

December 1, 2007

Why do I always ride the Crazy Horses?

Every time I go horseback riding I get the horse with the wild look in his eye. My horses are young with a penchant for looking with longing into open fields. My horses stop every 3 feet, gaining the hatred of the tour guide who has to constantly remind me that the horses are not supposed to eat. Today I had a horse who loved to trot, tongue hanging out, stepping into high stepping prance.

But *nothing* my horse could do could come close to the absolute wreck our tour guide was.

Alex showed up late and flamboyantly explained how he was at the bar, drinking. He was smashed. Nervous as this city girl is around horses ( there's pictorial evidence of this ) having a tanked tour guide did nothing to reassure me, neither did the trot my horse immediately started off on. Always the crazy ones, I tell you.

Anyway, Mr. Gayer-than-80's-irradescant-leggings led us along slippery rocks, 40 degree down sloped hills, and didn't quite take me seriously when I informed him I was getting off my horse and walking down the hill. Eventually, he came to understand that I was quite serious. Asshole.

Anyway, again, none of this even comes close to the abuse my booboo had to take. This guy was *ALL* over him, talking to him about him and his ex-boyfriend, who was also Chinese. He asked my booboo if he was Chinese at least 3 times, and then proceeded to tell him all the sexual tricks him and his "Chinesito" ex boyfriend did. I mean, who doesn't want to hear about ice cream balls when you're getting soaked in the rain. Did i mention it poured?

During the deluge, our giddy gu‪ide decided it was time to take off his shirt. In fact,
he decided both the men should ride shirtless and while on horseback, tried to take off my booboo's shirt. Normally a man of perfect temperament, my booboo was now in full assault mode, holding the reigns in one hand, and displaying a fist in the other. The tour guide got the hint, and trotted on up to me. I said trotted up because for the entire ride he was flirting with my booboo and ignoring me. As mean as it is to say, it's nice to see a guy trying to get down his shirt instead of mine.

I think we'll skip horsebacking riding on our next vacation.

Posted by lysa at 9:52 PM | Comments (4)

November 1, 2007

Anticipated Update

I have a love of words. It's strange to admit, particularly because I'm not a good speller, my vocabulary is sub-par and often get confused about polysyllabic pronunciations. But there is something about committing word to page that makes them sincere. This form of sincerity has been collected by me through my whole life: cataloging notes left in lockers and home made birthday cards. I am a collector of words. It is perhaps, for that very reason, I have found it incredibly hard to write this entry, which is, as I have been reminded, way overdue. What if I can't write it, right?

Last Saturday, my booboo proposed to me, and I accepted.

There. I wrote it.

I'm not sure I believed it until just now, even after all the phone calls and Instant Messages. Not even after I have been staring at this glittering proclamation of lifetime promises.

I. am. engaged.

He asked at our annual Halloween party, at a time when the atmosphere was winding down, and our close friends were present. In an amazing moment of planning, he managed to pop the question in front of my best friend and his - a near supernatural feat considering their locations. I could not have dreamed a better moment, at a better time.

I am deeply in love with this man. I have a happiness that is secured by stability and kept aflame by a steady stream of affection, desire, laughter and partnership.

I am giddy, shocked, relieved, nervous, thrilled, energized, panicked and confident. Never before have all these emotions worked so supremely together.

Now, here's a picture of the happy couple.

Posted by lysa at 10:43 AM | Comments (11)

October 25, 2007

We're a couple alright.

After years of trying to get my fellah to enroll in some swing dancing classes, I realized that it just wasn't going to happen. Since I'm not the type to give up completely, I suggested some other alternatives: tango, waltz, foxtrot, polka, salsa or swimming lessons. He chose tango.

Tonight was our first class, and despite the insistence of people to smoke, getting that nasty, horrid, putrid cloud of persistent stench all over them and then having the nerve to be randomly selected to dance with me, the lesson was fun. Not only did we learn some cool tango walking, but I discovered that he and I possess the same urgency to hop on suggesstion.

The teacher was demonstrating a quick step in which the leader shuffles his step in hopes to walk as we walk: left-right, left-right, instead of right-left, right-left. She said "all you do is give a little hop" and just then, we hopped. 6 couples apart, him standing at 3'oclock to my 6'oclock, we both hopped.

36 other feet were firmly on the dance floor. No one laughed but us.

Posted by lysa at 10:45 PM | Comments (6)

October 23, 2007

Mooching off Jean-Pierre Jeunet

I had a bad day yesterday. Yesterday was a resignation-writing-but-not-submitting kind of day. It was the sort of day that usually ends up with delusions that I am Ginger Rogers or Fred Astaire, depending on mood and/or current feelings about the roles gender plays in our society.

This brings me to the topic of todays list: 20 completely feasible and potentially ridiculous things that make me smile.

. Hearing "Feeling Good" by Nina Simone as I am emerging from any place with a door, or any place that opens into light, such as ascending a staircase from the subway below into the street.

. Stoli Raspberry and Ginger Ale. 2 please, preferably served with some fried appetizer. At 3 drinks I pass happy and start showing people my tattoos and discussing the results of my purity test.

. Partner dancing. Maybe not of the square variety, but a waltz, tango or a good lindy gets a smile out of me, no matter my mood.

. Call me crazy, but I really like taking the lint off of dryer vents.

. Vanilla Egg Creams.

. Being described as "The Bees Knees"

. funny faces from usually serious people.

. making boys blush.

. acoustic guitars.

. old people kissing.

. the ridiculous hats on women in black and white movies.

. smooshing my ice cream until it's doughy.

. 3 part harmony.

. spaces before parenthesis. ( like so )

. Hearing an accent on a person you've never spoken to before.

. swinging scary high on old metal swingsets, the ones you could stand up on and bludgeon someone to death with.

. getting packages.

. strawberry ringpops.

. stories before bedtime.

. Quirky sound effects from quirky people.

. The unexpected: like short, thin women with barrier busting singing voices.

. xkcd.com

. wearing my hair in braids, which I'm going to do right now.

Posted by lysa at 9:47 AM | Comments (4)

October 17, 2007

Awww, Nuts!

Sorry for the wait, ladies and gents. The bag of nuts in question came to a grand total of $7.49. Fortunately the woman at the register was as enraged as I was and scanned the $5.00 can for us instead.

Sweet!

Posted by lysa at 4:20 PM | Comments (1)

October 9, 2007

The price is *NOT* right, Bob,

Ladies and Gents,

I'd like to present you with the first-ever, never before seen, blog rendition of The Price is Right.
Here are the rules:

1. Go to your local shopping mart and seek a bag of Diamond (of California), 8oz chopped pecans.
2. Take note of the price.
3. Come back here and write the state/locality in which you live, and whether or not you believe your nuts are more/ess expensive than the package I just bought.

And the answer is, yes, I am so absolutely aghast at the price of these friggen nuts it merits a study.

Posted by lysa at 8:33 PM | Comments (6)

October 3, 2007

Yo! I wanna get wit you.

I left work early today. The reasoning for this will be detailed shortly, but I needed an opening sentence, and that seemed good enough.

I was walking to the train with what could only be described as my complete "don't fuck with me" ensemble. I had on my sunglasses, headphones which clearly led to an iPod tucked into my front pocket.

I see this guy walking towards me, and he motions to me that he wants to ask me a question. I slow down, maintain my distance, take my headphones out and listen to him tell me:

"Hey baby, I just wanted to tell you that I appreciate your look and I want to be your man."

Now, forgive the pause in the dialogue, but this story just isn't complete without some more detail. Last night, I was at work until 3:30am. I had to be back at the office at 9am. I got 4 hours of sleep last night. This morning I threw my hair in a ponytail, slipped on some pink chucks, a pair of worn jeans and the plainest black shirt I own. By 3:30pm when I left work, nothing on me was glamorous. My ponytail looked like an imprisoned lion's mane with whips of hair escaping at every possible turn. I could have secured my iPod in either of the bags under my eyes, and I assure you, Sherlock Holmes couldn't find makeup on my visage with Watson, Spade and Mason assisting. In short, I looked like hell.

After running his opening line through my internal filter, I successfully translated "like your look into "nice tits", realized he added on a request to be my man and I managed to reply with "Sorry, that position is filled."

He tells me that he really wants to "get wit me" and I assure him that I have a very nice, kind, wonderful boyfriend whom I have no intention of trading in. I thank him for his compliment, tell him to have a good day, and go on my merry way.

I wonder, does this work? Has this approach ever succeeded? Sure, it's a lot better than "You got any fries with that shake?" or "I appreciate that walk" yet ranks way below the more acceptable "Good Morning".

I wish I wasn't exhausted, crabby, impatient and stunned because this could have been a fascinating sociological experiment.

Posted by lysa at 5:56 PM | Comments (10)

October 1, 2007

Jill Sobule and I both love our jeans.

I've always had a love affair with jeans. Jeans are my comfort zone. With jeans, it doesn't matter if I've shaved my legs and it doesn't matter that my knees are bruised. I don't have to worry about tucking in shirts, matching socks or pantylines. All that matters in jeans is that fall is back, and I have new boots.

If it were fall all year around, I would scrap whatever wool pantaloons or eyelet linen skirts I own and be confined to, but certainly not limited to, my jeans. I would joyously wear warm, fresh from the dryer goodness daily and save a ton on dry cleaning.

Last night I conducted a jean audit, and realized I might have a problem. I counted 21 available pairs, which is also like saying, i found a book with 21 stories. Ever pair has a story. Some stories were too tight, and I finally relinquished them to the charity bin. Some stories started in Paris, some in Italy and yet others spoke of trips to California. Most stories involved a vacation where I foolishly packed shorts to save room, instead of my trusted standby. I invariably would end up purchasing a pair or two while away.

This is a dedication to denim and a sad farewell to the ones that got left behind, due to my behind.

I guess they'll need replacing.

Posted by lysa at 9:32 AM | Comments (5)

September 28, 2007

Mr. xkcd.com made my day!

This one got a good, genuine laugh. This female geek thanks you from / and beyond.

http://imgs.xkcd.com/comics/pix_plz.png

Posted by lysa at 10:33 AM | Comments (6)

September 27, 2007

verizon, verizon, verizon

I'm pretty sure it's common knowledge by now, but I really dislike Verizon. It's not enough that I've had to threaten them with litigation, no, now they're getting political.

An e-mail from the ever e-mailing NARAL let me know that Verizon has declined their request to have a short-code through their service. What's a short-code, you ask. Did you watch American idol? You know at the end, where you text "vote" to "5411", that's a short code.

The events so far have been summarized as such:

"Last week Verizon Wireless deemed NARAL Pro-Choice America too "controversial" and "unsavory" to approve a short code for our text-messaging program."

Is Verizon, the tele-giant monopoly of telecommunications making a business decision based on a moral/religious issue? Maybe it's because they're already on my list, but this irks me enough to click on a link and send an e-mail.

If you feel that Verizon does not have the right to shun business away from an organization that does nothing illegal, follow the link below.

Take action here:

http://prochoiceaction.org/campaign/verizon?rk=fpSHov415JXRE

More information about NARAL here:

http://www.naral.org

List of common US Short codes here:

http://www.usshortcodeswhois.com/

Posted by lysa at 9:58 AM | Comments (4)

September 25, 2007

Björk

Last night at a Barnes & Noble, I picked up Suppernanny written by Jo Frost. One of the chapters was dedicated to dressing your child in the morning, and how you should go about dealing with a 4 year old who wants to go out in public dressed like Batman, when it's not even close to Halloween. This is the thought I had in mind when Björk came into view at Madison Square Garden.

I was prepared for something crazy, I mean, Go Fug Yourself has had many opportunities to chronicle the insanity of this woman's wardrobe. The interesting thing is that when she opened her mouth and sang, she stopped being some Icelandic alien pixie, and started being a warrior armed only with the power of voice. That's when I realized that given the right audio components, Björk could change the world. This pint-size siren would be able to, if there was some international Bose speaker system, make us all stop our useless complaining and listen. I'm convinced, she could sing peace and people who have never considered the notion would understand. Maybe she could get past the languages of hate with her arsenal of rapture.

Björk is an instrument and she's a catalyst of awe. She sings with emotions so clear and powerful that they barely take form as any singular feeling. The only incontestable fact is that you'll feel.

This mandate for emotions was felt for me in a song entitled "Desired Constellation". As Björk sings "How am I going to make it right?" in that clear, powerful crispness, you wonder about your problems, the world's problems and you repeat in an inner mantra, how am I going to make this right?

Björk singing with musicians backing her is almost coincidental. She can carry her melodies a cappella or with backing, and it doesn't make any difference, until you get to wild club princess Björk. Midway through the concert the laser lights flash, Björk does her crazy Zulu dances and MSG turns into a nightclub. Her songs turn from chilling and emotional into techno-thrash flashdance, and she doesn't miss a note in the transition.

I wanted to listen to her as I wrote this so I wouldn't forget the goosebumps on my arms, or my shivers when she goes into her tell-tale Björk range. Sadly, personal audio doesn't do jack for our spirited sprite, and I am left wanting.

If you have the means, I highly recommend you go see her in concert. Something gets lost in the recording, regardless of the bitrate of your perfectly legal MP3..

Posted by lysa at 9:12 AM | Comments (4)

September 24, 2007

Yes I did have a great weekend,

and thank you for asking! As previously mentioned, I missed out on a lot of trips to Minnewaska when I was all college-age and grumpified. To make up for this gross lack of youthful enthusiasm, some friends and I went back up to their old haunts and I enjoyed the view.

Mini vacations these days seem to go much better when air travel is not mentioned on the itinerary. I got there a little delayed (due to weather conditions, of course) but overall, arrived in a far better mood then I have arrived when I was set to arrive by plane.

Speaking of, I have just been notified that USPS delivered my complaint letter to Continental Airlines on Saturday. It is now Continentals responsibility to retrieve this letter, and if they do not do so, it's coming Back to Sender. Shouldn't the post office have a "Do not deliver on weekends" options for letters?

Bitching about USPS aside, a great time was had, and I managed to come away with some beautiful pictures of me and my booboo.

Posted by lysa at 9:42 AM | Comments (3)

September 21, 2007

Happyness is no good for Creativity

With the rash of Decidedly Useless Hypothesis Studies going on, we'll just call them "DUH studies" I feel like maybe this is the time to add one more: Why does happiness seem to decrease creativity?

It's far easier to see something in the everyday, get pissed off about it, and then write a scathing blog entry condemning the world for its ridiculousness. OuT of curiosity, is there a plural to ridiculousness?

I have nothing to lament about, save the cruel and heartless cancellation of Veronica Mars. Things are going extremely well. I'm employed, in love, and not in love with anyone whom I employ or am employed by. I make a decent living, and enjoy living off the water, on a cul-de-sac, in Manhattan. Really, I've nothing to complain about, and therefor have found myself engrossed in blog Meme's and being the very least creative as I can be. Go Army!

For this reason, I am embarking on a new project. I don't know what it is, but I am accepting suggestions. What do you do when your creativity is sinking to alarming levels?

Posted by lysa at 10:49 AM | Comments (7)

September 17, 2007

I don't need no stinkin creativity

Thanks to Average Blogger!

here's what the career chooser says I'd be best at, or at least, enjoy most. here's a helpful note, I *did* fill in the education section, and my choices were pretty much the same. I knew school was useless.

A lot of jobs on this list are assistants and helpers. maybe they should have asked me how I deal with authority, because surely then, most of these would be completely out of the picture.

1. Midwife
2. Makeup Artist (This made me laugh out loud, I haven't worn makeup in 20 years)
3. Speech-Language Pathologist
4. Music Teacher / Instructor
5. Audiologist
6. Computer Support Person (If by support they mean dealing with people, they are SO wrong)
7. Taxidermist
8. Special Effects Technician
9. Veterinary Technician
10. Occupational Therapist
11. Plumber
12. Cabinetmaker
13. Nurse
14. Sign Maker
15. Dental Lab Tech
16. Electronics Assembler
17. Millwright
18. Industrial Machinery Mechanic
19. Set Designer
20. Costume Designer
21. Office Machine Repairer
22. Printing Press Operator
23. Machinist
24. Tool and Die Maker
25. Special Education Teacher
26. Magician
27. Public Health Nurse
28. Teacher Assistant
29. Dental Hygienist
30. Cable Installer and Repairer
31. Athletic Trainer
32. Physical Therapist
33. Early Childhood Educator
34. Optical / Ophthalmic Lab Technician
35. Musician
36. Upholsterer
37. Musical Instrument Builder and Repairer
38. Bicycle Mechanic
39. Furniture Finisher
40. Composer

Posted by lysa at 12:20 PM | Comments (4)

September 13, 2007

Rock and Roll is here to meme (groan)

Damn you, BeeLog. Here's how it works: Copy this list, leave in the bands you've seen perform live, delete the ones you haven't, and add new ones that you have seen until you reach 25. An asterisk means the previous person had it on their list. Two asterisks means the last two people who did this before you had that band on their list.

1. Melissa Etheridge
2. Guns N Roses
3. Def Leopard
4. The Police
5. Indigo Girls
6. Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers *
7. Foo Fighters
8. Girlyman
9. Rush*
10. Aerosmith*
11. Madonna
12. Voodoo Child
13. Garbage
14. Third Eye Blind
15. Bruce Springsteen
16. Stephen Lynch
17. Metallica*
18. Bjork
19. Black Crowes*
20. Paula Cole
21. Everly Brothers

Sorry, I don't do concerts all that often - that's it.

Posted by lysa at 4:18 PM | Comments (6)

September 11, 2007

Tower Lights

   
For those that don't know, I'm a NYC resident who lives a few blocks away from Ground Zero. For 3 years now, since I moved downtown, I've been taking pictures of the Tower Lights that get displayed every year on September 11th.

They can be viewed here

Posted by lysa at 11:21 PM | Comments (5)

September 6, 2007

Boobs Up! Boobs Up!

Recently, on a trip to Chicago, I leared that it was wholly unacceptable to take a picture of a lady that showed anything but her head and shoulders. This led to a lot of laughing and strange looks from other toursists when I was set to take a picture and my subject was screaming "Boobs Up!, Boobs Up!".

Imagine my surprise when on our harbor cruise the other night, when an Italian couple asked me to take their picture. I obliged. Not speaking very much English the gentleman came over and asked if I could take another one, like this: He then proceeded to put his hand out at about his boob level, palm down, parallel to the floor. He then raised his outstretched hand from his chest, up to his head.

"Ahh", I said. "Boobs up, I understand completely."

*snap*

Posted by lysa at 9:34 AM | Comments (5)

September 5, 2007

The Empire State Building should be ashamed of itself.

Last night, my booboo and I went out on a 3 hour dinner cruise around New York City. The weather was beautiful, the music was nice, the food was delicious. Thankfully it turned out as I hoped it would, and not like some lounge-lizards idea of a romantic evening.

No Robyn, he didn't propose.

As we circled around the harbor, we were treated to a beautiful view of our skyline. Our most noticible attraction was the Empire State Building all dolled up in Orange, Purple and Red. I've never seen the building lights that color, and I wasn't the only one curious. When the band asked the crowd if anyone knew what it was for, I whipped out my wing, hopped online and found the answer.

The beautiful, unique color combination was honoring Mercedes Benz Fashion Week.
You should be ashamed of yourself you steel whore.

Posted by lysa at 1:32 PM | Comments (4)

September 2, 2007

Mazel-Tov!

Another glass broken, another horah danced, another dress, another pair of slacks, and another trip out of bed prior to 1pm on a Saturday. If you hadn't guessed by now, today was yet another wedding.

I've no complaints, the bride made it as casual as it can be, we're talking beer and flip-flops, sundresses, and some really delicious BBQ.

In case you're keeping track, that's 7 weddings so far, this year. Our eight and (final) wedding is next month. I say this with a vast amount of certainty. I don't care who may or may not be looking at rings I'm not going to another wedding until June, 2008.

Night night folks, I need a nap.

Posted by lysa at 6:36 PM | Comments (3)

August 28, 2007

You guessed it, I was delayed

For those of you who aren't in the know, today is my 3 year anniversary with my BooBoo. To celebrate, he whisked me away to a Manor house in Quebec. Of course, every zonino! has an equal and opposite oninoz!, and our flight up to Canada was delayed 3.5 hours.

A few positive things came about by this experience. Firstly, I got to witness a family welcoming home a soldier. You know that opening dialog in "Love, Actually" where they talk about how Heathrow Airport shows that love is actually all around (see this movie if you haven't already, it's really wonderful), seeing a family welcoming home their loved one is enough to invoke tears, even from this cynic. Also, I applaud the individual at EWR who allowed a family to the gate in order to welcome said soldier. I'm glad there's some folks still around with some common sense.

Anyhoo, The place was beautiful, and we had a wonderful time (No Robyn, we're NOT engaged). Tonight, because it's anniversary proper, I'm taking him on a glass bottomed boat around the Hudson. If we're delayed 3 hours, I'll just swim it myself and pull him along with me.

If for some reason it hasn't occured to you to get a BooBoo who whisks you away to castles because he knows you're a freak who has an obsession with swords, I highly recommend getting one (a booboo, not a sword obsession). But not mine, you can't have mine!

Posted by lysa at 9:30 AM | Comments (8)

August 24, 2007

No amount of endorphins are enough to make me wear this dress

I'm sorry that the picture is blurry, but I was shaking with uncontrollable confusion as to what woman would ever wear this. Is this dress trying to take over the seamstresses union? Are these bust, waist, neck and hip measurements there for our convenience?
Is it a dieting aid? Is there a shortage of tape measures that I am unaware of?

Fashion confounds me.

Posted by lysa at 9:57 AM | Comments (3)

August 23, 2007

Don't Let Your Endorphins Dress You

Today I accomplished the impossible. I woke up early and went to the gym. This is my third week now of doing this whole gym thing, and so far, while I don't see any results, it's OK. I don't love it, I'd be more than happy to not go, but if I have any intentions of being a hot mom, I should probably keep this up, and get knocked up, or something.

Anyhoo, I set my alarm 45 minutes earlier than usual, and when it went off I was exhausted. I considered: "Self, am i really any more exhausted then when I usually wake up?" Turns out I am just as sleepy at 7:00am as when I wake up at 7:45am, so, off to the gym I went.

My instructions from my personal trainer were to do 30 minutes of intense cardio 3x this week. I needed some clarification on intense, for me, climbing the stairs can be an intense experience. He said I need to seriously sweat. Finally, a goal I can accomplish.

I hopped on the treadmill and got ready for a grueling 10 minutes. 10 minutes on that thing is enough to make me seriously sweat. I set it for 4.5 and was on my way. While I was predictably bored out of my mind at the 10 minute mark, I wasn't all that sweaty, and I decided to go 5 more minutes at 5.0. By that point the clock display 7:38 and I knew I had to do 2 minutes more. I spent 17 minutes on that thing and went a whopping 1.35 miles.

I know, that's what most people call pathetic, but for me, it's a serious accomplishment. I've never run a mile straight, and I think I figured out why I was able to do it this morning. Here is what I did differently, it may help.

1. Stop looking at those damn red/orange/green dots that signify the distance you've been running. For me, the goals come too quickly that way. Once the dots go around the circle once, I've hit a goal, and then I want to stop. Assuming I make it past 1/4 mile, when it gets to a half mile, I really feel accomplished, and I start walking. Once i slow down, I'm not getting revved up again.

2. Jog for minutes, not miles. My goal has always been to jog x number of mile(s). It worked out significantly better when I ditched that and jogged for 5 minutes at a time. I checked in with myself.... Was I out of breath? Was I in pain? The only question I answered yes to was, Am I bored and lazy? Yes. But I think even I could handle 5 more minutes.

3. Start out with a speed that's .5 lower than what you think you can do. When you reach your halfway point, kick it up some. My body was starting to want to jog faster, and it was happy at the opportunity to move a little.

Those were my lessons for the day.

After I got out of the shower and went to get dressed, I was feeling pretty honking good about my accomplishments. I put on a bright red shirt, and a new black mini.

Now that my endorphins have eased up a little bit, I feel like I could be mistaken for a prostitute.

Let this be a warning to you all.

* Photo borrowed from istockphoto.com

Posted by lysa at 9:07 AM | Comments (3)

August 21, 2007

In case you were wondering

how i spend my Tuesday nights since Veronica Mars, House and Friday Night Lights (damn I miss Riggins) are no longer broadcasting new epiodes (for now), you can put that over-active imagination at rest. I'm spending some quality couple time on our couch, looking for new entertainment centers and playing..

M.U.L.E!

If you just didn't gasp in excitement and get a little tingly down south, this is not the blog for you.
I finaly found a C64 emulator for the worlds greatest game.

You want a taste of what you're missing, big boy? Here you are.

In other news, this mysterious thumb pain I have is the result of my child-sized digits being hypermobile. The result of this deformity?

Posted by lysa at 9:32 PM | Comments (4)

August 14, 2007

Anyone else know that Mr. Ed was a Zebra?

I don't know why this fact amongst all others has my panties in a twist. What else have those lying television moguls been lying about?

Was lassie an otter, Rin Tin Tin an overgrown fox?
Was Babe nothing more than an baby elephant?
Jaws a fluffy kitten?

I shudder to think that Flipper could have been anything other than a dolphin.

This only goes to prove that models on TV could be outstrecthed lemers, decorated and coiffed.
That's my story. I'm getting a cupcake.

Posted by lysa at 2:38 PM | Comments (4)

Daily Dose of Langston

Still Here

been scared and battered.
My hopes the wind done scattered.
Snow has friz me,
Sun has baked me,

Looks like between 'em they done
Tried to make me

Stop laughin', stop lovin', stop livin'--
But I don't care!
I'm still here!

Posted by lysa at 12:14 PM | Comments (0)

August 9, 2007

Tagged

I feel like I've already done this. Hear that? That's *I* language. I feel like it's silly to go and look for 8 more things to tell you about me. But... but but but.. I adore Scott or Patrick, or Steve, whatever his name is.

1. We have to post these rules before we give you the facts.
2. Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3. People who are tagged write their own blog post about their eight things and include these rules.
4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged and that they should read your blog.

1. I am a habitual ring twirler. Since High School I've had a silver ring on my right thumb and have been twirling it on and off my finger since the day I got it. This has led to me needing to replace said ring 3 times. Once, as I wildly gestured my hand walking down the street and my friend stepped on it as it hit the concrete. Once again, gesturing wildly in a bar, the ring flew across the bar and even though I went back the next day, it was no where to be found. The third time I lost my ring I was on Lake George. Yes. I was actually on the lake. I've have the same ring since that fateful, wet day.

2. Speaking of, I was once lost on Lake George for 3 hours. I went out on a wave runner and thought it would be fun to go around that little island a ways off the beach. That "little island" was 3 miles long, and 6 miles wide. I had no money, no phone, no silver ring because it fell in the water and had to convince a kind, lake gas station attendant to please refill my tank. Eventually I found a boat who was kind enough to get me back to shore. When I got back to my friends they said they had the lake police and the local rescue departments looking for me. I was fine, thankfully, but sunburnt beyond belief.

3. I hate. Hate, hate, hate the smell of oranges. Going into Bath & Body works is a torture amongst tortures. This sucks because B&BW also has one of the sweetest smelling shampoos, Soyflower, which those bastards discontinued.

4. I am immensely proud that there are not 8 new things that my friends will ever learn about me. I am an open book to the people I love. Someone reading this will nod slowly and say "yeah, I knew that"

5. I cry when fathers die in movies, plays, books or TV shows. It doesn't matter if I like the character, how long they've been in the series, or if I am attached to them in any way. Me, the girl who can rarely be seen shedding a tear, sobs during the movie Armageddon.

6. I feel inadequate around other women.

7. The best advice I have ever received are tidbits that have shaped my development. These gems have come from my ex's mother, my brother, Dr. Seuss, and a teacher. They said, respectively:
a. Most women take an average piece of shit and treat them as gods.
b. Don't say you can't when the answer is I don't know how. Ask for help or figure it out. There is no can't.
c. Do what you want and say what you feel, because those who matter won't mind, and those who mind don't matter.
d. Fuck 'em. Take it from where it's coming from, and fuck 'em.

8. My mother has said two things in my lifetime that have been somewhat compliments. Someone had complimented her on how I "turned out". She said, "don't thank me, she did it all by herself." The second was when I was going to delivery my father's eulogy, and the Rabbi wasn't going to allow it. My mother looked him square in the eyes and said "Yeah, you try to stop her." I gave the eulogy.

I'm not a big blogger, I don't have 7 people, so I'll give you one excellent, excellent writer.

Shameless, Solipsistic and Narcissistic

Posted by lysa at 4:55 PM | Comments (5)

August 7, 2007

Thank you Larry Woods

On August 6th, something wonderful happened and while I'm sure it's been covered and blogged by a bunch of people more read than I am, I still feel the need to share this with the non New York crowd.

But first, a prequel. Last night my fella was reading me a very familiar blog topic:

adults who take little kids to loud, violent movies. There's nothing more on this topic I can say that these folks haven't. In short, it's rude, inconsiderate, abusive to the children and it seriously impacts your movie going experience. Don't you ever wish someone would be braver than you and tell these parents exactly what should be said?

It is for this reason, that I feel that Larry Woods should be congratulated for standing up to Christian Custis.

Larry Woods is a bus driver who whisterpooped Custis for not giving up his seat to a patron with a cane. Of course, much like my take on the legality of stun guns in this city, the NYPD disagrees, and has arrested Mr. Woods.

I don't support violence, and I don't believe that it is the answer to the world's problems. I don't even believe it's the answer to the smallest problems, but there has always been some form of de facto societal control taking place in society, and Mr. Woods was just doing his part. I don't know how hard he hit him, and I don't know the damage he inflicted. It's quite possible that Mr. Woods went way overboard in his discipline of Mr. Custis, but it is my hope that he just delivered a grandfatherly smack-upside-the-head.

People have become so frightened to instruct, teach, criticize, for fear that the criticized will become violent. This form of informal policing is overdue and for this citizen, missed.

Maybe we should keep the violence down to a minimum, but surely can take pictures of these freaks and humiliate them publicly.

Posted by lysa at 2:32 PM | Comments (1)

August 3, 2007

Girls Gone Bad University

Once again, figleaves has presented me with some blog fodder.

When I first went away to college, I had my jeans, some fuzzy shirts and a pair of sneakers. I considered this to be the extent of what I needed, clothing wise. On that one odd occassion where I needed a dress, I borrowed one. In school, I had more computer equiptment than clothing and this was fine by me. My college essentials included access to e-mail so I can write my friends, and a visit by a buddy who would bring me pizza and baked ziti a few times a month. New Paltz, NY knows jack about Italian food.

I get e-mails from figleaves daily, as they are aware of my quest to find a bra that reduces me down to a b-cup. So far, this is a futile mission, and they keep trying to get me to buy DD push-up bras.

The subject of this e-mail was "Back to school essentials plus we pay you for delivery at figleaves.com"

Figleaves and myself have some very different ideas about what college essentials are.
Essentials??
besides, that model is way too old to be going back to school, unless of course, it's the BlowJob Academy.

Posted by lysa at 1:47 PM | Comments (6)

August 2, 2007

Chang-Chang, Changidy Chang Shoo-Bop?

Something strange happened to me last night. I was in bed, getting in some late night tele. I channel surfed a bit, and ended up watching the last 10 minutes of Grease.

I've watched Grease no less than 500 times. I know every word and sing every song. I can do the hand-jive, all the gyrations featured in "Greased Lightening" and that weird lasso move Danny and Sandy do at the end of the dance-off.

You know what I never noticed about Grease? I never noticed how friggen weird the carnival scene is at the end. I think it's because I always watch Grease from the beginning, but when you turn it on and it's at the end, you get an interesting slice of alien life. Here's an example:

First off, synchronized dancing and singing. This is a dead give away that you've entered hokie-ville, but it's so much more than just synchronized dancing. For instance, in the middle of the dance routine, 3 guys break out into Charlie Chaplin impersonations. Why couldn't I have been present during the brainstorming for the final scene? I can see it now, the meeting with the producers and the lyricist who came up with, what must be, the most bizarre lyrical composition since "Supercallafragilisticexpidalidocious"

Written, it looks like this:

"Rama Lama Lama a dinkity-dingy-a-dong.
Shoo bop sha walla lop, yippity boom da boom.
Chang Chang, Changidity Chang Sha Bop.
Yip dee yip dee yip, do wop, dee doo dee doo.
A boogity boogity boogity boogity, shoo be doo wop doo wop.
Sha na na na na na yippity dip dee doo."

And then, repeats.

Here's a visual

If you look closely at the faces of the actors, they can't even keep it together, which is why, I noticed, that the camera angles are usually from far enough in the distance so you can't read lips. If you could, you'd notice Rizzo totally cracks up in the middle of the song.

Grease may be the word, but it's a strange, strange word.

Posted by lysa at 9:26 AM | Comments (2)

July 31, 2007

Hang in there.....crazy is more popular than you think.

Posted by lysa at 11:08 PM | Comments (4)

July 30, 2007

Take that, Goliath!

As some of you may know, I have been fighting with Verizon Wireless for the past, oh i don't know, five months. I called to cancel my service, and through a clause in their contract, I was allowed to do so without paying an early termination fee.

They charged me anyway.

Since then, I have been calling and calling. I was ignored. Finally, all my patience exhausted, I stepped up the plate and threatened them with litigation.

I received my check earlier this week.

It just goes to show, if you're obnoxious enough to threaten a monopoly with a small claims law suit, they'll give you your money.

If you're interested in the letter I sent, read on.

Verizon Wireless
Attn: Customer Service
3601 Converse Dr
Wilmington, NC 28043

Monday, July 2, 2007

To Whom It May Concern:

I am writing to express my complete disgust with my Verizon Wireless experience. It would seem that you are very attentive to your customers while they are in your service, but cannot extend the slightest bit of professionalism once their account is canceled. I find this method of customer service both dishonorable and unethical.

I called Verizon on February 6th to cancel my service. Since I cancelled due to an increase in your SMS message rates, I was allowed out of my contract without an early termination fee. Regardless of this agreed upon fact, on March 22nd, Verizon Wireless charged my credit card $193.22; $175.00 for the cancellation fee, and the rest for taxes.

On March 1st I called customer service and was informed that “the system”, regardless of my confirming that I would not be charged, could not differentiate between customers who should and should not be charged. I find this extremely difficult to believe. I have never encountered a financial system without the ability to override a transaction. It is my belief that Verizon Wireless bills their customers in the hopes that they will either not notice, nor put in the effort to claim their money.

I have spoken with Verizon 16 times in order to find out where my refund is. The bevies of excuses I have received are bewildering. I have been told that it takes one billing cycle, only to be changed to three billing cycles on a later call. I have been told that my request has been submitted and approved three different times. I have records of speaking with nine different customer service representatives and not one of them could tell me when I would be getting my refund. Verizon Wireless has owed me a total of $204.48 since my February-March statement.

This is my last casual attempt at getting my refund. I will be calling my credit card company to challenge the charge, and then I will bring this issue to the attention of my small claims court. In addition, steps are in place to contact the Better Business Bureau.

I can think of no legitimate reason why a customer who has used your service for years should be treated with such neglect.

For your convenience, I have included the dates of my aforementioned phone calls below:

If you have any questions, please feel free to contact me at 111.222.3333.

Sincerely,

I am so pissed off right now.

Posted by lysa at 12:18 PM | Comments (4)

July 19, 2007

Am I the only one who remembers the 80's?

Because this seems like a really bad idea to me.

Posted by lysa at 11:03 AM | Comments (3)

July 18, 2007

Reason # 450 why I mostly hang out with boys

I work in a building filled with fashion companies. For the most part, if you don't design fashion, then you work with the models in a photography studio. This usuallly means that I, with my trademark hair-pulled-back-with-a-barette stylish self, am crammed into the pre-war elevators with at least, 10 women who all look they're going to the event of the year.

I have heard the most interesting conversations, most I let go without so much as a care. After all, I know jack-squat about fashion. I probably don't match my shoes to my, umm, what are you supposed to match your shoes to, anyway?

Today, I could not let the world miss this little gem.

Girl 1: "What did she look like?"
Girl 2: "She had long brown hair and was Greek looking."
Girl 1: "Ewww"

That conversation between two men would have gone so completely different.
Here are a few examples.

Guy 1: She had long brown hair and was Greek looking.
Guy 2: Hot?

Guy 1: She had long brown hair and was Greek looking.
Guy 2: I'd hit that.

Guy 1: She had long brown hair and was Greek looking.
Guy 2: Big tits?

Guy 1: She had long brown hair and was Greek looking.
Guy 2: Did you nail her?

Ok, so I picked the lowest of the low for my examples, but seriously, would a man even respond to that with an "Ewww"?

Posted by lysa at 9:51 AM | Comments (4)

July 17, 2007

D'Oh!

I thought I'd take a trip to the lazy blogger lighter side of life. Enjoy these pics from the Simpsonizing of our local 7-11 store.

Posted by lysa at 2:33 PM | Comments (3)

July 16, 2007

Girl with a pearl earring

A few years ago, I decided it was time to retire the ankh earrings my best friend gave me for my sweet sixteen, and try something a little more adult. With this glorious news, I received not one, but three pairs of pearl earrings for Christmas. I request, my best friend delivers. I love birthdays. Anyhoo, I wore those earrings daily, switching between the black, pink and white pairs. Eventually, I lost the pink ones. I was saddened. So saddened in fact that when I was moving apartments, I put the earrings in a "safe place" so I wouldn't lose them again.

I moved nearly 2 years ago, and I still have no idea where the earrings are. Fear not, my loyal reader, my best friend stepped up to the plate yet again, and bought me another set.

This time, I wouldn't let her down.

Fast forward to this weekend. I am playing follow the leader with a 7 year old. Shes having gobs of fun watching me twist, turn, dive, jive, swing and jump. I grab said seven year old, pull her down on the couch with me, and collapse. I go to fix my earrings and find one missing (find one missing, is that right?).

Me, my hostess, her husband, the seven year old and the seven year olds mother get down on all four's and looked for the earring for an hour. It's no where to be seen. In a moment that I can only describe as hysterical hallucination, both the hostess and myself see the earring fall from a blanket onto the floor. Convinced it was there, we spent another hour looking. Finally, after realizing there was no way we were finding the earring, I began to accept that I would have to confess to, again, losing a precious gift.

I got on the train home from Albany, got home, showered, ate, relaxed. I went to my collection of earrings with no partners, and found another white pearl earring. They didn't match, but it was OK.

This morning I get out of the shower and notice that next to the tub is....
you guessed it, the missing earring.

My best assumption is that somehow, I had a pearl-post earring stuck to me all night up in Albany, that stayed on me through a 2.5 hour bus ride home, a transfer to the subway, and the 10 minute walk to my apartment.

Either that, or my body is just so used to losing jewelry, it started manufacturing its own.

Posted by lysa at 9:04 AM | Comments (3)

July 5, 2007

Was there a fiercly independent Smurf?

I would like to extend you all a warm welcome to my neurosis. Have a seat, anywhere is fine, everyone can see the show from exactly where they are.

You ever find yourself just chugging along, getting a job done, being a perfectly reasonable, logical person, and then, as if a blink transported you to crazy land you're off being insane? No? Fine, just me, then.

I got an IM from a friend I went to Junior High School with. We keep in touch when we see each other online, and she's often in my thoughts. I haven't seen her in many years, and she asked if I was going to a mutual friend's baby shower.

She's married, of course, and expecting her first child. It was here that I think I blinked into Crazytown.

I think it's impossible to be over 30, with some fairly impressive long term relationship cred. under your belt and not experience the moments I am experiencing. If so, can someone tell me how?

It's a mix of doubt and some very strong feelings of helplessness. I've had career since my early 20's and yet there is some Darwin-like drive present that tells me I'm not yet successful. Of course not. For Darwin, to be successful means breeding. Great shelter? Check. Working body parts? I think so. A partner with suitable mating DNA? Check. "What's the problem?" asks Darwin.

The problem is I am grumpy smurf.

When I was young, my mom and I went to Lechters. There was something she needed on the top shelf, and I went to get it. "MyName!", she exclaimed, "don't do that! That's for a man to do." It was about then that I developed my tell-tale glare, climbed up the shelves and got it myself. "Meh", I said. I am grumpy smurf.

Here is the problem folks, I need to trust someone. It's not that the person I have in mind to mate with isn't trustworthy. On the contrary he's about the greatest person I have ever been involved with. He knows me, and while there are aspects of my personality I'm sure he can do without, he's aware of them, and loves me all the same. What more can I ask for?

This is the man who dubbed me his "loud, foul-mouthed, trash-talking, in-your-face, delicate flower"
That's me in a nutshell. And he loves it, mostly.

My conundrum is that I have to believe him. In order for us to get to the next level, I have to assume his intentions are pure. I have to trust him.

I was the girl cheering along with Simon and Garfunkel when they sang "I am a rock, I am an Islaaaaaand" It was me in the back row of a Def Leopard concert screaming "Love Bites!" If there's a lyric in a song expressing fierce independence, you can count on me singing it, while climbing up some structure trying to lift something too heavy, because "Hey! I don't need any stinking help!"

And yet, I do.

I can think of no other situation I've experienced in which I have to wait for something. I cannot simply take this, I cannot work hard for it. I have to surrender control, and trust.

I am insecure Smurf.

Posted by lysa at 2:52 PM | Comments (4)

July 4, 2007

Happy 4th of July

I guess I am one of those snobs who believes there really isn't a better place to live than NYC. Sure, it's summer and the streets are an aromatic masterpiece with such elements like piss and garbage, but really, it's beautiful.

I'm fortunate enough to be able to grab pictures of the fireworks from my roof.
These were snapped with a Panasonic DMC-Z27, from downtown NYC.

Pictures!

Videos can be found here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T_IDQWbpCQo
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p_bzCcR8MfQ
Enjoy!

Posted by lysa at 11:52 PM | Comments (3)

July 2, 2007

best of the 80's

So, there I was, watching yet another 80's countdown on VH1, and my fellah says to me "is *THAT* what Little Red Corvette is about?"

After the hysterics died down, I realized that Prince had made one of my many Top 5 lists. Here is is folks, Top 5 euphimism songs:
*
1) She-Bop, Cyndi Lauper
Leave it up to the hippy wild child of the 80's to write a song about female masterbation. At 14, I had no idea that's what this song was about, but now, after countless Pop-Up Video's and Interviews with the Laup, we're all really clear on the meaning. How did we miss it with lyrics like these?

"Do I wanna go out with a lion's roar
Huh, yea, I wanna go south n get me some more
Hey, they say that a stitch in time saves nine
They say I better stop - or I'll go blind
Oop - she bop - she bop"

2) Little Red Corvette - Prince
Again, we must have been hypnotised by George Michael's ass to not realize how very about sex this song is. If further proof is needed, just take a look at this euphamism right here, baby:

"Move over baby (move over baby)
Gimme the keys (gimme the keys)
Im gonna try 2 tame your little red love machine
(Im gonna try 2 tame your little red love machine)"

3) Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds
I've never been a huge beatles fan, so I caught on to this one pretty late in life. You have to admire the band for being able to sing so blatently about drugs and getting it past every.single.censor.
Snippet:

"Follow her down to a bridge by a fountain
Where rocking horse people eat marshmallow pies,
Everyone smiles as you drift past the flowers,
That grow so incredibly high."

4) Dancing with Myself - Billy Idol
I realized during the making of this list that I am pretty clueless. This song invokes images of bad 80's dancing - we're talking high kicks and hands waving wildly. Come to think of it, I guess that really does fit in with the whole masterbation image. Guilty lyrics:

"When there's no-one else in sight
In the crowded lonely night
Well I wait so long
For my love vibration
And I'm dancing with myself"

5) Pink -Aerosmith
I'm so used to Steve Tyler making up words like sasafrass in order to sneak "ass" pass the censors that I didn't even consider this next song - then I read the lyrics.
"Pink it´s my new obsession
Pink it´s not even a question
Pink on the lips of your lover, ´cause
Pink is the love you discover "

Sure, he's talking about the color.

Runner's Up:
Relax - Frankie goes to Hollywood
Light my Fire - the Doors
Brown Sugar - Rolling Stones

You have any?

* borrowed from:
http://whatever21.up.269g.net/image/cyndi_lauper.jpeg

Posted by lysa at 10:09 AM | Comments (4)

July 1, 2007

Peter, Paul and JetBlue

I'm leaving on a jet plane, indeed, but in order to get there, I had to travel via every public transportation system available.

Me and the boy went to see his brother and his (holy shit my biological clock is doing the mambo) little kids. He has a set of twins, one boy and one girl plus, a 3 years old boy. The girl, I learned, loves me because she liked my hair. The fact that I threw her around in a pool for an hour no longer meant anything. Don't hate me because I'm beautiful.

Anyway, back to the transit stories.

I had to go to (mother fucking) New Jersey in the morning for some work. I hopped on a PATH train. After Jersey I took a water ferry and a bus, which landed me at Penn Station for my train to Jamaica Station, where I caught the Air Tram which brought me to our plane. In Florida we were picked up by his brother, in his car.

For all of you that got to sit on your booty this weekend, don't feel guilty. I did enough running around for you.

* pssssst - 9 more days until my birthday!

Posted by lysa at 7:30 PM | Comments (1)

June 28, 2007

Lazy Summer Days

You remember those days when you were in school and it was blazing hot outside? The kids didn't want to learn, and the teacher didn't want to teach. On days like these, the teacher would often talk about something that had nothing to do with the assigned subject, but something a little more personal. Today, and much of this week, is one of those days in the blogspere. I have nothing to say, and nothing to teach, so today, you'll be introduced to Pablo Neruda.

It saddens me that I heard about Mr. Neruda from the movie In The Cut. In this movie, Meg Ryan plays a teacher. She's involved with this cop who is investigating the death of her sister. The cop comes into her apartment, glances at writings on the walls and sees this:

"I want to do to you what Spring does to the cherry trees"

In that moment, after the words hit my Wernicke's area I was in love.
Not to knock the movie script folk, but there was no way anyone but a poet wrote that. My quest was on. A few google links later, I was introduced to Mr. Neruda. The name of the poem is "everyday you play", and here it is en Englis y Español.

Posted by lysa at 9:34 AM | Comments (4)

June 24, 2007

Seaview Avenue.

Picture this:

Two girls are sitting on a swing set located in a concrete, elementary school playground. The swing set's supporting poles are spray painted silver. The ground is covered by a thin black padding. There is at least one swing seat flipped over the high horizontal bar, dangling and useless. These swings are the flat, metal sort that politicians feared would be used to beat some poor child to death. In years to come, these swings would be replaced by the half-moon rubber kind. When these girls grow up, at least one of them will hate those rubber swings.

Th girls lament about their lives: they have curfews and older brothers. Their breasts are too big, and none at all. Boys are a nuisanance, but one of them has had a crush. Things are changing.

The girls are 12 and 9. The 12 years old is complaining that she is not yet a teen-ager, and she cannot wait. The 9 year old, exasperated exclaims "I'm not even in double digits, yet!"

The joke lives on though the years. The girls drift in and out of each other's lives, neither forgetting the other. They are family, bound by the experience of growing up on the same street, with the same kids, and surviving it all.

They've shared similar tragedies, similar enough to wonder if they were supposed to meet.

I'm the 12 year old, and my childhood best friend, we'll call her Janice, is now 7 months pregnant.

She's a wife, daughter, sister, and soon to be a mom. To me, she will always be, in some form, that skinny 9 year old girl who couldn't wait to hit double-digits.

Congrats, Janice.

* picture used from: http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/184364/2/istockphoto_184364_undisturbed_swings.jpg

Posted by lysa at 1:09 PM | Comments (2)

June 20, 2007

Sharing.

Tonight is my last session for therapy. I'm not "cured" or anything absurd like that, I was just skeptical going in and I remain as such. One thing was said that struck me as being quite astute - she mentioned that I like to keep personal things at a distance through technology. She's a little right about that. There are no pictures on the web that have my name associated with them, my full name can only be found in some really old newsgroup postings, and I tend to yell at people when they use my name in comments.

So, here's 20 things you may or may not know about me. I can too share with strangers!

1) For a brief time I sold sex-toys as a side job. I was nominated to do this by a woman who was hosting a bridal shower I attended. She was so impressed with my knowldge of the products, she suggested I start selling them.

2) I've attended 3 different colleges, one of them twice and just recently earned my bachelors degree in Sociology.

3) In the past 10 years I've moved 8 times.

4) In the past 10 years I've had 8 jobs - they've all been relatively close to each other.

5) My best friend and I have been friends for 16 years. She hated me when we first met.

6) Regardless of how much I weigh, I will always think there are 5 more pounds to go.

7) I've owned a cat for 10 years now. I owned a dog once, and probably will again.

8) I had a catfish named Lenny.

9) When I was younger, I would rescue all the goldfish that my father tried to feed to his Oscars. I bought a ten-gallon tank and kept the goldfish there.

10) I can do a cartwheel and a backwards walkover.

11) I'll always be smiling when I'm dancing

12) My favorite poet is Dorthy Parker and my favorite writer is Terry Pratchett.

13) I learned how to ride a bicycle when I was 8. It was a 10 speed and my feet couldn't reach the floor. I would stop the bike by crashing into nearby fences.

14) I can drive a stick shift if i have 20 minutes to get out of first

15) I still dance around my apartment and sing outloud when no one is home. From time to time, I'll even grab a hairbrush and pretend it's a microphone

16) I posed naked with 300 other naked people for a Spencer Tunic photo.

17) I sleep with a sword and a police club by my bed.

18) My friends still read me bed-time stories when I'm alone.

19) I love swingsets.

20) I will hop on a bus/train and travel 3-6 hours on the slightest whim. I can live out of a bookbag for a week.

Pssst. 20 days until my birthday.

Posted by lysa at 4:45 PM | Comments (1)

June 13, 2007

The Sweet Spot - Rated NC-17.

Helloooooo ladies,

For any gentleman that may be reading this, please let me warn you, this is a very female post. I will be talking about "down there".

I would like to introduce you all to something I found whilst looking for bridal shower gifts. Introducing Sweet Spot Labs

I think it's awesome that there is a team of scientists, or like, regular people, sitting around thinking of ways to make our Va-Jay-Jay's more friendly for visitation.

It would be even better if they started working on the @%&(&*^ orgasm pill, but in the meantime...

This web site offers labia friendly lubrication, portable punani touch-ups, and fragrances for fuzz patch's everywhere.

I hold no stock in this company. I just think with all the goop we put on our faces to minimize wrinkles, soften skin and defy gravity, why not try pampering the pussy?

It's times like these that I sort of wish people at work didn't read my blog.

Oh well.

Posted by lysa at 5:13 PM | Comments (6)

June 11, 2007

29 days until my birthday!

I know, I know, it seems, excessive. Most women I know are not running around like mad with a countdown to their birthday. Most women I know put their age on pause sometime around 29, but not I, no sir, not me.

I love my birthday. The only thing I may love more than my birthday is Halloween, maybe. Let me share with you a few reasons why growing older is absolutely nothing to hide.

Things that have changed since my 20's

1) My friends are not gossiping about me. I have weeded out all those people who do nothing but cause me stress. They have been abandoned to a book of memories, where I may visit when I please. I have stored only the pleasant memories, I can do that since there is no one to remind or challenge me of any other unpleasantnesses that existed.

2) I'm in a healthy relationship with a genuinely nice/adorable/funny/intelligent/responsible/superhero guy. I'm over, WAY over, the invaders from planet heart-break who were clearly sent here to destroy me. Healthy is nice. One thing that has definitely helped this excellent relationship factor is...

3) I'm not fucking insane anymore. Everyone goes through it, and I don't doubt I have a lingering amount of crazy left - but I'm working on it. I'm somewhat confident, I mostly like what I see in the mirror, and I don't believe that being miserable is the only way to live my life. I have forsaken being prolific in poetry for the opportunity to write one or two things a year/month/season that express the good in my life. I don't freak out when I'm happy, and I am no longer waiting for the other shoe to drop (mostly). We're all a work in progress

4) My friends have been around for more than a decade, some close to 2. There is something wonderful about knowing that the people you love, love you back, and have been proving it by surviving you in your 20's and still speaking to you in your 30's. They have survived invaders from planet heart-break, spiral perms, manic new love, suicidal breakups, bad hair, weight gain, extreme weight loss, career changes and complete crisis of personality. I love these people.

5) I have pretty much solidified the "not-my-problem" list. Things have gotten significantly easier for me since the inception of this list. Sit down one day and figure out all the things you're dealing with that really aren't yours to deal with. It's nice.

6) I know that I can keep a cat and a plant alive for 10 years. This helps me to calm down at the prospect of having children.

That's it for now. I'm sure I'll have several more birthday updates. 29 days and counting!

Posted by lysa at 10:52 AM | Comments (3)

June 4, 2007

Really Mr. Singh?

I hate it when blog ideas hit me before I'm about to pass out. This phenomenon requires that I purge out an outline that will be sufficient enough for me to remember what it was I found so interesting in the first place. In the event the below is in-cohesive, I have failed.

Here is what was so interesting:
http://www.ny1.com/ny1/content/index.jsp?stid=1&aid=70391

For the lazy, the article summarizes a well-known issue in our schools: discrimination. In this case it's of a religious nature. A Muslim Queens student was recently forced to cut his hair by another Muslim student.

What got my attention was the following quote, spoken by Amardeep Singh of the Sikh Coalition. :

"In Queens, of the people we surveyed, over 70 percent of the Sikh are teased or harassed based on their religion. That is not acceptable. That is not what New York is all about.”

Really, Mr. Singh?

I'm pretty sure that that's exactly what New York is about.

We speak a lot about tolerance in this city. Programs have been budgeted in public schools to increase the amount of tolerance people have for cultures different from their own. It doesn't work. We tolerate, but not accept, the cultures around us because we are forced to. We tolerate them because we're a picky people who profit off of diversity. Without all the different minorities in this city, where would we get that world famous New York cuisine from?

70% of a population being teased for their religious beliefs is unacceptable. I just think he's a little daft as to how abusive the New York school system, and New York, can be.

Mr. Singh was accompanied by Mr. Liu, whom I have heard speak at city council education hearings. He's a very passionate, well spoken member of the panel who tends to deal with issue most pertinent to the Asian community. I have absolutely no issue with this. Mr. Liu is an Asian-American man serving on our city council, and he should be representing the community he serves. It is understandable that he is at the front of the discussion about racial tensions within the Asian community.

What makes this city so susceptible to discrimination is that the minorities in this city shift from neighborhood to neighborhood. Every race and religion is a minority at some point in this city. I'm white, but in my Junior High School, High School and College I was most definitely a minority. Yes, I was picked on, and yes, a few times I was attacked because I was the minority. You may say, "Hey! This isn't racial discrimination, it's religious". Fine, let me round up some religious Jews I went to junior high, high school and college with and see if they were abused at all.

I'm sure they escaped unscathed.

Is it absolutely disgusting that students are discriminated against at all? Yes, of course it is. But please, let's stop pretending that it's only one group or another. It's every group.

If we're going to find a way to fight discrimination, let' s be real about how many different kinds there are and all the people it effects.

Posted by lysa at 11:11 PM | Comments (4)

What's that word, dammit

Anyone know that word for people who suffer personality changed based on the weather? This rain sucks, and it's like, totally bringing me down, man.

In other news, ( it's been a slow week, hang in there - something will tick me off soon, i promise ) I saw