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 Knocked Up last night and thought it was hysterical. I thought I would try out a movie review. Since I don't want to ruin the movie for you, you'll have to click the link below to read it.

Spoilers Below...

Judd Apatow who has brought us Freaks and Geeks, The 40 year old Virgin and Undeclared now delivers us "Knocked Up". From the start, I think I should tell you that I usually dislike comedies. Dick and fart jokes don't make me laugh. I'm the bored looking female watching "The Office", trying desperately to find one redeeming quality in any of the characters and being disappointed week after week.

Shockingly, I was neither disappointed or bored during "Knocked Up". This movie is funny. It's a little dick and fart joke funny, but it's also witty. I dare you to go see this movie and not find one scene that you can really relate to, even if you have never had a one night stand, been pregnant or spent your life stoned.

The gist is as follows: beautiful, professional Allison meets bumbling, sweet, no goaled stoner Ben at a bar. They get drunk and she takes him home. After a misunderstanding about required condom use, Ben does the deed and Allison gets pregnant.

Paul Rudd stars as the husband of Allison's sister, Debbie, played by Leslie Mann. There are many ways to describe Debbie, but it almost doesn't matter what your initial depiction of her is, because the characters in this movie evolve. Paul Rudd (Pete), who I seriously crush on, was adorable. Pete befriends Ben, as they are both involved with the sisters. Their quick friendship rings sincere, perhaps due to their on screen chemistry developed in "The 40 year old Virgin". This camaraderie leads to some hysterical scenes as the boys bond together in Vegas as a result as being ditched by the sisters.

This movie also provides some nice insight into the battle of the sexes. At first, I thought it was a little guy-centric. The men see the women, at times, as completely logic-less, controlling and insane. They hold nothing back in their judgment of the females who are, at times in this movie, completely irrational, abusive and insane. Towards the end, something nice happens. The viewpoint blends. The men are not being shown as irresponsible, uncaring and detached, and the woman are not crazy and illogical. This progression of thought is natural. The moral compass in this movie isn't banging itself against your head. The changes in these characters are subtle and believable.

Go see this movie. You'll laugh.

Posted by lysa at 9:54 AM | Comments (4)

May 31, 2007

Is Spam funny anymore?

To some, spam was never funny. I am, of course referring to my fellow sysadmins and IT folk. For years now, we've been inundated with ads for sex, drugs and bad mortages - not exactly the triumverant we're accustomed to, but surely no one is ever surprised anymore.

Occasionally a spam message sneaks itself past my many spam filters and makes its way into my INBOX. When such a daring trip is made, I take the time to see how this message so cleverly connived my e-mail filters and I read it.

This one came a few days ago.

Could this be our worlds first uniting spam? Regardless of my race, size and age Penis?
Finally, we are brought together by our age penii.

Unity comes by some unamed product that will do *something* regardless of my limiting factors. Finally, I can belong.

In other news, another "Spam King" was busted and is being sent to jail. Let the sysadms rejoice.

Posted by lysa at 9:21 AM | Comments (4)

May 28, 2007

Tyra Banks is my new hero.

I can't believe I'm doing it. I'm home, on a Monday night watching a re-run of "The Tyra Banks Show". I know what you're thinking, I'm thinking it too - this is pathetic. But Tyra, crazy as she is, is actually broadcasting something very interesting. She's "investigating" how different cultures view bodytypes.

This "investigation" is no news to me. Every school research paper, be it Criminology, Math or English has been written to educate everyone who would read it about the gross unfairness of beauty in our society. Yes, you read correctly, I had research papers due in Math, and even then, I wrote about ninnies.

Tyra has a panel of 4 women: 1 Asian 1 Caucasion (and how i wish these fucking people would call themseves white) 1 Black and 1 Latina. Of course, the Asian woman and the White woman like the skinny, no butt, no boob size 0 women, and the Black and Latina woman believe that curves are better. They believe that a size 12 is not fat, a woman should have a booty and some boob. I'll try my best to stay on track here, because what they see as "big boobs" might be laughable.

Giggle ridden or not, I believe these expectations to be true. White women tend to think skinny is in, and I follow in suit, hating "the girls", eating salads, and desperately resisting the urge to confiscate the pie the boy next to me ordered at lunch.

It calms me to know, that not only am I gender confused, but now I know I'm the perfect weight/heght/booby size for any women who is not Asian or White.

Yeah, I'll get right on that.

Posted by lysa at 11:22 PM | Comments (3)

May 23, 2007

Keep your money in your mattress

Hey All,

Sorry for the delay in posts, I was in California. You'd think this post would be all about my trip: detailing how surreal it is to see a friend from high school get married. Maybe I would add a few paragraphs on how proud I was to see him and his new bride. Maybe I would have written all that and more. There might have been a picture, but all these wondrous events have taken a backseat to the travesty that occured the last time I checked my bank account. The people that I trust to save my money for me, have decided to relieve me of a substantial sum.

I checked my balance when I was in Vegas, about to buy this purse when the nice automated account balance checker let me know I had no money. None.

$0.00.

Turns out those money hording people decided they needed to ignore my request to take money out of my account next month, and take it out this month instead.

Remember that wedding I was telling you about, the one in California? That wedding required plane travel for 2, a rental car, a hotel room, a wedding present and food. That pretty much cleared out savings.

I spent the majority of the day on the phone with said institution who, in their defense, worked their asses of to get me my money back as quickly as possible.

You know when you hear that your "phone call will be recorded" - sometimes, that comes in very, VERY handy. After they played back my initial phone call, they realized they were in the wrong and my money will be back in my account tomorrow.

Runners up on my shit list:

Chinese School
Verizon
Best Buy
Cingular
Blockbuster

and of course

WalMart.

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

May 15, 2007

How do you put your bra on?

I was chatting it up with my newly, partially incapacitated best friend the other day about how she's going to put her bra on with a broken arm. She said she just hooks it on the side and pulls it around.

I asked why she didn't just hook it in front and pull it around, and she said the thought had never occured to her. This struck me as odd, as it's my usual way of applying the titsling.

I wonder how much women are missing out on by not being more open about their dressing habits. For instance, do you think if I spoke to more women, one of them would be able to tell me how to protect my stockings against my seemingly mutant toe?

I bet, if women just talked more about things they assumed other women already knew, we'd all be a lot smarter.

I'll start:

...

Ok, so I have no useful tips - I'm a clueless gal, so I'll leave you with this: You're probably wearing the wrong sized bra. Get a professional fitting, you'll be very surprised at the result.

Posted by lysa at 10:07 AM | Comments (5)

May 13, 2007

The Benefits of the BooBoo

I don't follow the usual naming conventions on cell phones. For instance, my brother, let's call him Scott, is filed under Scott, Brother. My fellah is listed under "BooBoo".

This came in quite handy when we were on the LIRR on Friday going to a Met game. My fellah peeks at his phone, sees a missed call from me, and checks his messages. The message sounded something like this:

Hey, umm, Booboo? This is Ted, I'm assuming your going to SomePlace on the LIRR. Call me, you've left your (brand new, very expensive) phone on the train.

At this point, the BooBoo turns to me and says "where's your phone?"

I calmly look inside by bag where my trusty phone always is and exclaim "Shit!" in front of the 6 year old girl sitting right across from me.

I apologize of course, and try to get Good Samaritan on the phone.

It went down like this. Amtrak switched trains on us at the last minute. During the rush to get to the other train, I dropped my phone. Not much of a story, I know. Here's the good part!

We made arrangements with the good samaritan. He'll be calling BooBoo at 10am today to let him know where I can pick up the phone.

Any ideas what to get a seemingly well-to-do gentleman for being a decent human being? Bottle of wine?

The best part of the story is that the Mets won!
Let's Go Met's!

Posted by lysa at 9:33 PM | Comments (4)

May 10, 2007

Happy Feet

So, I left work last night at 4:30am. Before you ask, no, I don't have a night job. No, I was not trapped in a web of chocolate, and no, there was not an Indigo Girls concert.
In addition, I was not being seduced and held against my will by some adoring gentleman, unless of course, you count getting groovy with a group of programmers, which, in my case, might actually constitute a seduction.

Why then, would anyone be at work that late? Well, we had work to do, and that is, after all, why it's called work.

However, there are some perks to this crazy job of mine. For one, people tend to be understanding about these curcumstances. Another perk is the recent purchase of patio furniture my company has acquired. This acquisition brings me to another perk - we have an awesome roofdeck which makes working the occasional all-nighter, reasonable.

Look how happy my feet are!

Posted by lysa at 8:39 PM | Comments (5)

May 7, 2007

The Interview, submitted by "The Average Blogger"

Much obliged to The Average Blogger for not only replying to a perfect stranger, but in addition, for offering me cognitive development drills in the form of an interview for me to complete while I wait for lunch.

The way this works, is I commented on AB's blog, and AB sent me 5 questions. If you comment on this blog, and request that I interview you, I have to send you 5 questions that you must post the answers to (along with this lengthy explanation) on your blog.

Capice?

1: What is the saddest word in the English language?
Limited, as in "I am."

2: If you had a band, what would you call it? (Or do you have a band?)
Jello on Springs - stolen directly from "Some Like it Hot"

3: When going out on a date, (not a first date, just a date,) do you prefer nights out that are structured in nature -- dinner reservations, having to be at a theater at a set time, etc., -- or ones that free-flow from one event to the next, like a pub crawl?

I like things structured - it stinks to be all dressed up with no where to go. However, if we're on said scheduled date, and something cooler comes our way, i'd be totally in to ditch our plans and try something new.

4: Parking lot carnivals: Awesome fun and great rides? Or filthy and frightening deathtraps?

Awesome, totally cool, get-me-on-a-scrambler-and-I'll-love-you-forever, deathtraps!

5: You wake up late for work. Do you a: skip breakfast, b: skimp on the hair-makeup front, c: take your time and call in late, d: call in sick and try again tomorrow?: e: do something else? And if something else, what?

This is pretty funny because I don't do my hair or makeup. I also don't get breakfast on my way to work, which pretty much leaves calling/emailing in and letting the boss know I'll be late.

Posted by lysa at 12:42 PM | Comments (10)

May 6, 2007

Man, I was a downer.

I'll have you know, the original title of this post was "Wow, I really was a twat in my youth" But i'm still harboring fantasies that more than 4 people read this blog, and I thought maybe that would be a smidge offensive. Semantics aside, whether I was a twat, or a downer, or an all around bitch, the message is clear: I'm so glad I got over all that fucking misery.

You'd never know it if you met me now, but I really was a downer in my hay days. I realized this when I look at old pictures, or heavens to betsy, read old poetry (something no one should do, ever - why did we always rhyme life with strife? Horrid. ) but today it was really apparent when I went upstate to see some buddies.

When I went away to school, my goal wasn't to obtain an education, meet new people, or even party. My goal, the one and only, was to get out of my house. Today I went back to that college town and went up to the local mountain/lake and had an awakening. Why the hell wasn't I up there more often when I had the chance?

And the the answer hit me: I was a twat.

Surely, I was complaining about allergies, or nature, or the severe lack of concrete in the skyline, or something else that would make my having fun virtualy impossible.

I'm glad I can go back and relive my youth. Isn't this beautiful?

Posted by lysa at 9:50 PM | Comments (5)

May 3, 2007

Geronimo!

That's me, when I was about 5, maybe 6, or even, 7. I'm not sure. What I do know, is that I loved my Big Wheels.

I grew up in a project in Brooklyn, New York. For those of you familiar with the stigma of "The Projects", let me assure you, that when I was there it wasn't quite as dangerous as they are known/thought to be now, but scary enough that my mom paid someone to walk to me school everyday. I was in ignorant bliss about my surroundings.

My parents were lower middle class, a bus driver and a secretary, and they eventually saved enough money to move us out of the projects, and directly across the street. My story is not unique. In the early 70's there were plenty of families in their position. They were hard working people tryng to raise their kids. Amidst all the dysfunction of my family, it makes me happy to know, that I could always find a reason to smile.

Way before Action Park let us break, fracture and filet our bones, the Big Wheels was my primary source of injury. The projects had one thing going for it, and that was a shared park between several buildings. Every few buildings had it's own park, and the park was, undoubtably, at the bottom of a steep, paved hill. Seriously, could life get any better than that?

Scores of children who were lucky enough to have parents able to afford the Big Wheel, zoomed down with wild abandon and pulled that back brake up at the base of the hill. Skidmarks decorated each and every park entrance, and the wide eyes of a child were never far behind.

These were glorious times to be a child. Rain was our worst enemy, and "happy" could always be found tearing down a hill, on some wheeled plastic, hoping to take the 360 to the next level.

It's no wonder that I love to rollerblade or ride a bike. It's crystal clear why I have to stop at every swingset I see, put some tunes on, and feel wind through my hair.

Childhood doesn't have to end because we're too big for Big Wheels. Take a moment, feel the breeze, find a swingset and live.

Posted by lysa at 10:20 AM | Comments (5)

May 1, 2007

Some girls want ponies...

I want a stun gun. Badly. Unfortunately, I am a (mostly) law abiding citizen dwelling in NYC and it's illegal to carry one. What's worse, is that no one has had the decency to buy me one. It's like that stupid calorie bullshit, where cookies don't have calories if you're baking ( and eating ) them for someone else.

It's horseshit, I know, but I like having a stupid excuse handy when planning on breaking the law.
I figure, if someone *else* buys me one, I'm not *really* being deviant. I'm merely being polite by carrying it every where I go. I'm sure Miss manners would agree.

Anyhoo, someone out there in inventor land has solved my problem. Ladies and Gents, please introduce ""The Pink Stinger"

The Stinger is a tampon sized taser that shoots out its "cotton", which is actually the heads of the tasing mechanism, and tases your attacker (boss, brother, co-worker).
What officer of the law is going to believe someone has been tased by a tampon? I can see it now - some criminal who had the unfortunate instinct to fuck with me, getting tased by "The Pink Stinger". Seriously, how great it is that it's pink?

Now, if only my Pocket Rocket could serve a more sinister purpose than healing my lifelong condition of hysteria.

Picture borrowed from http://www.americaninventorspot.com/security_system

Posted by lysa at 4:21 PM | Comments (7)

April 30, 2007

Mo Lie Mow! (or, how do you say Gesundheit! in Chinese?)

First thing first. Good morning, and yes, I mean that in the birds are chirping, it's not friggen raining, and I believe I just caught a glimpse of the sun sort of way.

Today's blog is brought to you by Point Break Live! and Miss Manners and Loius CK

As the above already lets you know what i've done this weekend, I'll jump right into the crux of the entry.

What Would You Do?

* There we were, ( my beau and I, because women use pronouns) at a Chinese restaurant, after seeing Point Break Live. We were chowing down some Congee and discussing my seemingly rampant desire to make a fool out of myself onstage at public performances. We're about half-way done with our meal, and a woman walks by, baby in arms. The baby, cute as a button, and stuffed up as a teddy-bear, sneezes on our food. Let me expalin further:

The baby had food in her mouth and sneezed at the same time. We saw particles of snot and food spray across the table in an almost cinematic replication of Hooch's drippy, nasty, wet saliva, making its way across all of Turner's pristine apartment.

Our dinner, was done.

The nasty waitress (who could not endure my English) came by to ask how everything was, and the boy (because women use pronouns) explained the situation.

Eventually, the snot-riddled tot's mother came by and apologized, but did not offer any compensation for our completely ruined dinner.

Would you have?

Picture gleaned from:
http://www.coolquiz.com/trivia/explain/docs/images/sneeze.gif

Posted by lysa at 9:10 AM | Comments (3)

April 26, 2007

How much shopping can a girl do?

You know that bit in "Fight Club" where Edward Norton glances around his apartment and automagically all the product names and prices from IKEA pop up on the furniture? I'm not saying I'm that bad, but I have been known to purchase one or two things from a store rhyming with Nottery Larn.

Once you make this mistake of buying something through a catalogue, you are inindated with crap for the rest of your life. Suddenly, you're considering patio furniture when you don't have a patio. Considering new throw pillows for your couch, which, by the way, would love to be replaced by the ensemble on page 96 - you know, the one with the slipcovers.

My mailbox is filled to the brim daily with "summer inpirations" and "solutions for small living spaces".

If these people gave a damn about my small living space, they'd stop sending me piles or crap that I just have to recycle anyway.
Which brings me to the companies who send me catalogues and e-mails. I would like you to take a look at my inbox for April. How many friggen sports bras does a girl need? Don't they know I hate any activity that makes my boobs bounce? Maybe if I cancelled my online subscription to women's health magazine they'd stop thinking i'm like, active.

Posted by lysa at 12:04 PM | Comments (4)

April 22, 2007

Put some friggen clothes on!

Have I lost my damn mind or is 60 degree weather now a reason to walk out of the house in next to nothing? I'll admit, today was beautiful. It was sunny, 70, and after nearly a month of cloudy, wet, cold and monsoon like weather, the denizens of NYC were eager to show a little skin. Even I, for a few rare moments took off my jacket and patrolled the streets in a mere t-shirt. It is for this above reason that I forgave a variety of belly violations this afternoon. Let the denizens celebrate! Liberate those toes! Show off some skin, but for christ sake, when the sun sets, be reasonable!

Is it really necessary to parade your baby-doll dress and cowboy boots after the sun sets, when the wind is gusting along? When did jogging shorts beome shorter than my friggen underwear? Do I have some age-induced temperature disorder? I was quite comfortable in my tent-like denim skirt and leather jacket. My boyfriend, the King of the Men-Who-Are-Always-Warm tribe was donning a leather jacket himself.

I get it. April sucked, and we're all a little anxious to get out and start the Spring mating call.
Toes are blue, tummies are toned, and everything is irridecant orange, like this woman's shoes.

She, by the way, had on a lovely peasant blouse. I should have taken a picture of her goosebumps instead.

Posted by lysa at 9:35 PM | Comments (6)

April 20, 2007

It is because of men that women dislike one another. ~Jean de La Bruyère,

I have one female best friend. I know her going on 16 years now, and with the exception of two hysterical arguments, we have never had a fight. I'd like to point out, that during the first fight, someone was sending me ransom letters, complete in cutout newspaper style writing, and I was not quite in my right mind. I still have these letters, and if anyone reading this works for the FBI, and is willing to help me dust for prints, please let me know.

Anyway, another reason I think we've been friends this long is because she is one of the most loyal and considerate people I know. People like this need to be commended. Publicly. She is the kind of person that hangs around people that cause her heartache 95% of the time, and happiness the other 5%. She finds this 5% enough to hang on.

This brings me to the next reason we get along, because opposites attract. If you only cause me happiness 5% of the time, I'll ditch your ass.

So, this post is for all the people out there who have the patience to endure idiocy. The people who can play devil's advocate, the people who call their grandmother once a week just to be called a Spinster and who call their Mothers only to feel fat, stupid, worthless, infertile and inconsiderate after every. single. phone call.

I raise my glass to you all, because truthfully, I don't have the patience for that shit.

Posted by lysa at 9:29 AM | Comments (3)

April 19, 2007

it's a new dawn, it's a new day.

I'm still feeling glad to be alive, after that horrible flight from Miami to New York last weekend. Because of this somewhat newfound appreciation for life, I've kicked my own life into gear a little bit, and have gotten back working on some of the things that have been on a severe pause.

For one, I've enrolled in a beginning Cantonese class. Currently, I know enough of the language that I can call someone a "fat noodle bitch" and identify when my boyfriends parents are talking about "the white ghost" - which in case anyone is interested, is me.

I can also tell my fella "you're a big asshole and I'm a flower"

I found a really sweet web comic today. I recommend everyone go and check out xkcd.com. My current favorites are:

http://xkcd.com/c137.html
http://xkcd.com/c97.html
http://xkcd.com/c104.html

Going forward, I'd like everyone to know that PMS is in full swing, and I have ordered a Cold Stone Ice Cream Cake to my office this afternoon. The phone call was a little tedious. "No, I dont want anything written on the cake". "No really, I don't want anything written on the cake." "Yes, suite 1500 is on the 15th floor." "No, I don't want anything written on the cake."

Unless that stuff they use the decorate the top of the cake is some chemically engineered substance that decreases your bodies inclination to storing fat, i don't give a crap what's written on the cake. I just want to eat it. whole. like a snake - or that guy in the Reach commercials with the flip-top-head

Posted by lysa at 10:48 AM | Comments (2)

April 16, 2007

anyone have an arc?

Seriously? I've had enough of this rain. I want to be able to wear dresses, and not. I want to be able to wear open-toes shoes, and not. I want sun and 75 degrees. San Francisco, anyone?

I spent the weekend down in Miami for a wedding. The wedding was beautiful. The bride was beautiful, the groom wore a top hat. What more can you ask for?
Well, I could have gone without staining my new dress in the first 5 minutes of the cocktail hour, but fortunately the dress had a bow that helped me camoflauge my inadequacy.

I don't want to bitch about the plane ride back, because truthfully, I'm feeling a little lucky just to be alive and complaining about it so soon after the fact makes me feel a little ungrateful...

The pilot got a round of applause for getting us on land safely, and some guy in front of me threw up. That's really all I wanted to say.

I stayed with my brother, which if you knew our history is pretty funny. He met us (me and my beau) at the airport and we immediately started "discussing" the
immigration issue. From there we "discussed" Walmart, Education, "the war", Africa, Bush (which we agreed on, actually) and fucking Cheney - which might have constituted a bonding moment.

This is just an update, folks. When something of actual interest happens, I'll fill you in.

Posted by lysa at 9:40 AM | Comments (4)

April 12, 2007

Say Hello to my Inner Hippie.

Despite the fact that the new, cool way of getting news brought to you is through RSS feeds, I still prefer an e-mail from CNN. Today's e-mail was sad, and it made me want to stop, smell the flowers (assuming it were actually spring and not monsoon season, here in NY) and appreciate life.

Kurt Vonnegut died today. This is a major loss for literature. I suggest everyone should go home and pluck his or her favorite Vonnegut novel/short story/ and read it. If you don't own a book by Vonnegut, go and buy one. If you're not into books and only have the patience for short stories, check out Bagombo Snuff Box - it's a collection of Short Stories.

If you can't even stomach reading a few pages of really well written, funny, imaginative and sarcastic prose, at the very least, read a quote or two.

Maybe you should look at some art

*

Posted by lysa at 9:20 AM | Comments (2)

April 9, 2007

Way too many people see me naked.

Save your snickering and your bathroom gossip, this is a serious topic and it needs to be addressed. I went in to a chiropractor for the first time tonight to get my thumb looked at. I know I went in for my thumb for two reasons:

See! Pink!

So, I go to this guy - because it's only a thumb, and what are the odds you'll have to strip down to your new fancy panties for a thumb-ache? If you're me, the odds are pretty good.

Turns out I really need an orthopedist, but since I was there, would I like to be adjusted?
I've never been to a chiropractor. I think my bones are as stubborn as the rest of me, and they'll crack when they're damn ready to. He thought differently.

Don' get me wrong, cool guy - totally would recommend him if anyone reading this lives in NYC and needs a good back-crack. So, he says to me, after looking at my thumb and declaring his uselessness in that particular arena, "Take off whatever you need to for me to have access to your back"

Today, I wore a straight skirt, with a waist line that was actually at my belly button. I haven't worn anything that wasn't low-rise since the fashion developed. Also, since we haven't had any weather that even resembles spring lately, I had on tights. Both of these items had to go.

So, there I was, hospital gown, blue bambi panties and the best minimizer bra money can buy waiting for my brand new chiropractor to "adjust" me.

By the way, he likes my "art".

All in all, the adjustment was painful, but that's only because I have a bad hip-ass muscle which has caused me much grief in the past. Also, as it turns out, the reason one pant leg is always more tattered than the other is because I'm crooked - but don't worry, he's going to straighten that right out.

This naked bullshit at the Dr's is really out of control. My urologist, gynocologist, chiropractor, and even facial(ist?) have requested that I get near buff when I visit. I have to take my bra off for a facial? I've had boyfriends that didn't get that far!

Don't even get me started on the positions that the damn people that wax you make you get into.... (ow!)

After I was brutally massaged, I was instructed to lie down in this room on this... bed like device. I will call this the mechanical undulator, for this is what it did, and this is what it looks like:

The Undulator makes you move like something very, very nice is happening in a southern region of your delicate body. I want one, and you should visit my chiropractor.

Posted by lysa at 8:04 PM | Comments (3)

April 6, 2007

Sexiest Characters on TV

True, he's an asshole. He's stubborn, spiteful, and stands to his convictions. Try as I might, I cannot write one full sentence about Greg House without praising him in some way. Those beautiful blue eyes, that wit, those puns! House is great to watch, and even better to listen to. True, the show has a pattern that doesn't change - but really, as long as House is still the star - who cares? Finally, intelligent writing is back on TV.
Logan Echolls, a character on Veronica Mars has me crushing big time. He's funny, adorable, and in real life, a near professional snowboarder. He's a little bad boy, though, not so bad that he's too much trouble to deal with. "Anthropomorphic - it's all yours, big guy."
I know, here's about where you question which team I play on. I don't care whats sex she is, Shane, of The L Word is unapologetic about her conquests, and that's damn sexy. I am envious of her wardrobe and her ability to be androgenous. I like Shane because as butch as can be, but they make her whopping 98 pound frame still say "Ow" when anyone playfully punches her.
Sayed on Lost is just a bad ass. Sure, he spent his youth torturing people in the Iraqi army, but I'm a forgiving girl If I were ever stuck on an Island (complete with electricity, fresh water and mysterious puffs of black smoke) I'd want Sayed by my side.
It's at this point in my blog where I start realizing I have a thing for (wo)men that are morally questionable. Vic Mackey of The Sheild fame is a cop who dancing with the grey in the black and white world of the law. Sure, he's done some objectional thing, but his heart is in the right place. Somewhere underneath that corrupt cop exterior is a teddy bear.

Posted by lysa at 7:49 PM | Comments (3)

April 4, 2007

Victoria may have had a Secret, but I have a plan

I apologize in advance for sharing such things with you when you barely know me, but I recently had an idea I thought I should share. Girls, if any of you have a partner that has a desire to see you in lingerie, and you don't want to explain the hassle of lace and garters, follow these instructions:

1) tell your partner that you want to fullfill their fantasie, and to do so, they must be the ones to purchase aforementioned items. The lazy/cheap of the group will give up on the spot. They had no intentions of earning their supper, and they will acquiesce to the visions of you in your beloved flanel.

2) If your partner agrees to this deal, you may end up as lucky as I am. I approached my boyfriend with this about 2 months ago. If he wants to see me as The Nasty Nurse, or Linda Lycra, he was going to have to go through the heinous task of finding stuff for me.

Boys do not generally understand how friggen frustrating shopping can be. I spent a good 2 hours last night trying to find my best friend a dress. The choices were too hippy, too strppy, too long, to horizontal, too green, "are you kidding" and not horrible. For her, it's dresses, for me, it's the titsling.

I won't bother you with the details, but here's where the funny comes in. I watched my fellah pour through Her Room, Figleaves, FreshPair and here's the funny... Agent Provocateur.

I overheard such testimony as:

"What's the difference between blush, pink and champagne?"
"What's your size in Europe?"
"Wait, that's just for the garter!"
"Your size is all backordered"
"Why are all of these push-ups?"
"How much??? It's not staying on that long!"
"$90! For a thong!"

I sat on the adjacent couch with a little gleam in my eyes. I adore that he's going through all this because he wants to see me all lacy. I know many a man that wouldn't be caught dead looking at these sites with both hands on the keyboard, but my man did.

He finally ordered a good amount of stuff, which of course, will not arrive together, but in several packages over the course of the next 3 weeks - when I am sure to have my period.

Posted by lysa at 9:05 AM | Comments (6)

April 2, 2007

They Jog Among Us

I know it's been a while, but something occured to me today that is important enough to stop making family trees of my Sims and break my silence with this groundbreaking news:

Cybernectic Organisms are real, and they jog amongst us.

I admit, I'm not the fittest girl. Sure, in my hay day I was able to rollerblade a bunch of miles, walk to and fro school, up hill, both ways. But now, as I spend more time in front of this dread machine, I've gotten a little stationary.

Actually, exercise equiptment is what brought me to this conclusion. As I was panting along during my olympian mile, I realized that people cannot do this. Let me rephrase - human beings cannot do this. The only reasonable explanation is that androids are systematically placed in certain areas to do the following:

1) drive up real estate prices
2) drive gym memberships

Remember what the gym was like in the 80's (I know this because i collect old 80's gym magazines) ? There were steps and ribbons - low tech. Get in shape girl rocked, and no one needed a gym membership. Suzanne Summers rocked the infomercials with her thighmaster - all low tech.

Nowadays, machines know our heart rates and come with more technology than necessary. Instead of "stepping" on plastic steps, we're walking mechanical ones. What's the point? Here it is. The fitness mogules manufacture these droids to patrol populated jogging routes to make people like us feel like shit about how pathetic we are in hopes that we'll go to the gym. See it? See the conspiracy?

As far as the real estate issue: I defer to Overheard in New York:

"Black lady: Harlem is up and coming, but it ain't come up yet. I need to see a few more white people jogging at six a.m. before I sign a lease above 125th."

--7 train

Fucking Androids.

Posted by lysa at 10:31 PM | Comments (4)

January 4, 2007

Hot times, Living in the city

So, it's January and in the high 50's. The sun is shining, I get to wear my leather jacket (screw off, PETA) and not have to worry about gale force winds knocking me into storefronts. This is way more dangerous than you imagine, namely because these storefronts either have the most delicious chocolate croissants ever, or adorable ballet flats. Gale force winds are expensive in this city.

Our warm weather got written up in AMNewYork as some big fucking deal. Once again, "El Niño" is all the rage. Who here is old enough to remember the first time 'Ol Niño hit? Color me wrinkled, I am. It was the largest deal, and everyone, everywhere went in full force to prevent global warming. Truth be told, I'm not sure it matters. The more I see the human race, the more I think it's our time to go and be replaced by people with some consideration.

Speaking of some really important hot stuff, I am finally done with my pesky undergrad degree. This niña came out this semester with a perfect 4.0.

That's all folks.

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

February 28, 2006

The Portable Dorothy Parker

Indian Summer
--------------

In youth it was a way I had,
to do my best and try to please
and change with every passing lad
to suit his theories.

But now I know the things I know
and do the things I do,
and if you do not like me so,
to hell, my love, with you.

Posted by lysa at 9:30 AM | Comments (1)

February 14, 2006

Stowaways

Hello S(t|n)ow! Last weekend I kidnapped my boyfriend (it's my blog, i can say boyfriend if i want to) and took him away to Stowe! at the recommendation of Mr. Naked Baby Bottom. The goal was to get him (my boyfriend, not baby bottom) to relax - and this was accomplished by removing all wireless signals and all cell phone reception - Damn that parking lot! JetBlue was kind enough to take us there for a reasonable price and provide some last minute wi-fi for my soon-to-be-bandwith-deprived nam jai pang yow. Speaking of JetBlue, here's one more reason to love them! That place is good even in an airport. The egg cream was a little to sugary (wow!). To Stowe... I took a 2 hour snowboarding lesson with Ben who was patient and adorable and told me my technique is nice, if only my confidence would follow. How confident would you be going down this mountain? The weekend was nice, relaxing was the number 1 priority and I believe we accomplished it lik pros. We went out to breakfast, had quite possibly the best pancakes i have *ever* tasted We also dined at The FoxFire Inn which had their own personal "melt-in-your-mouth machine". Seriously, everything just turne crumbly and delicious once it hit the tongue buds.

Posted by lysa at 10:41 AM | Comments (2)

January 29, 2006

Gong Hay Fa Choy!

Hello Folks,

I've had some requests to take pictures of the Chinese New Year festival that takes place in Chinatown, NYC every Chinese New Year.

It was a nice experience, very colorful, very crowded - all in all something I would recommend you do - once.

If you're interested in pictures, give here a click.

Enjoy.

Posted by lysa at 5:37 PM | Comments (2)

January 26, 2006

It's all for you, New York, New York

I don't care what you say about this city. Is it dirtier than Xtina Aguilarra? Yes. Does it stink like piss? Absolutely. When you have had a day like mine, where you get from the hours of 9-5 to accomplish a million things - there is no other place like New York.

I woke up at 7:45am and got ready to plea my case to the jury duty tribunal. I went in and listened for the magic words in the seminar "If for any reason you feel you cannot serve, please go to 60 Centre Street". Excellent! Off I go with the rest of unpatriotic slobs who have found better reasons to not serve their country. I arrive at "60" an make my way to the wrong room on the wrong floor where some jury duty propoganda was blasting through the televisions. "Back in the Roman times....." Blah fucking blah. I go back down the elevator and make my way to the "get out of jury duty free" room.

Strangely enough, the jury guys were nice. I managed to postpone jury duty for an entire year.

Which left me free to go to Hunter College and fin out why those fuckers cancelled all my classes.

I enrolled in www.tuitionpay.com because I didn't have the dough to pay up front. These fuckers took my money and told me I would have no problems with Hunter. Last night, when I went to confirm that school started today I noticed a distinct *LACK* of classes.

Turns out tuitionpay.com fucked up. Long story short, I got all my classes and those fucks at tuitionpay are on my shit list.

I still don't know what i'm doing for employment.

After the Hunter fiasco I went to the dentist only to find out I was imagining a cavity. He took an x-ray an relieved me of $40. Thanks.

I got some notebooks (not the kind that would inspire Ryan Gossling to read to me in my senile years) and am now in a Starbucks being charged out my gigi for bandwith.

All in all, a lot was accomplished today - seriously - where else could you go to two courts, register for school, go to the dentist, meet a buddy for lunch, buy some notebooks and drink chai all in the same day.

Now to get some more caffeine to endure back to back classes this evening.
The bitch of this is, is I know teaching is never going to be worth dealing with 5 more sociology classes.

Posted by lysa at 4:25 PM | Comments (3)

January 15, 2006

get home safe, sweety

I walked into my local Gristedes the other day, probably to buy more veggies that will turn brown in a week. As I was getting ready to take my overpriced vegatables home,the guybehind the counter said "Good-bye sweety, get home safe".

Now, I have several reactions to being called sweety by men I don't know. The ones who leer in the street and ammend the words "tits, walk, money or blowjob" don't get a lot of positive comments from me, but in this case it was the "get home safe" part that really got my attention.

It's funny, in a way, because I live across the street from the supermarket. It's also funny beause I live in just about the safest neighborhood in Manhattan. It's not the least bit funny that women have to be cautioned about their safety in the lowest crime district in this city.

Besides all the other stuff that occupies an individuals mind, women will always have one more item floating on their todo list: get home safe.

Posted by lysa at 11:31 AM | Comments (7)

January 14, 2006

Brilliant!

"Innovative solutions for your maintenance problems"
http://www.prolinkhq.com/dealers/edmar/edmar.htm

I saw this one a van while going to work the other day. What a great fucking slogan!

Leaky Sink? Plug it up with fiberglass!
Bad Wiring? Chill it out with water!
Stuck door? Kick it down! Who needs doors?

How can anyone hold you responsible for horrid work with a slogan that announces, upfront, that your solutions aren't guaranteed, but innovative!

Brilliant.

Posted by lysa at 11:30 AM | Comments (0)

January 13, 2006

deseo ser una flor

I want to be a flower.

People always describe flowers as gentle, fragile - something which needs a great amount of care, but that's not the flower I want to be.

That's not the flower I want all of us to be.

I was in a shop buying some bright, red, huge flowers. I noticed how careful everything was. The flowers all had arrangements - they all had a place they knew they should be. The flowers were put together with other flowers and they became more beautiful.

Flowers are handled with extreme care. We handle flowers with more care than we handle each other and certainly more care than we handle this planet.

Treat someone like a flower.

P.S. These images are courtesy of my new phone (teehee)

Posted by lysa at 8:07 PM | Comments (1)

January 3, 2006

The Grades Are In

Anthropology A
Art A
Biology A
Education A
Health A-
Statistics A

Yes, i am actually upset at the A-.
My GPA for the semester is: 3.96

Posted by lysa at 3:49 PM | Comments (5)

December 8, 2005

Yes, Oats!

For some, starting out their day with oatmeal is a sacrifice. They want the salty goodness of their bacon, egg and cheese (no comma after egg, notice?). For me, after doing 2 weeks of South Beach, I looked at my daily food recommendation and nearly wet myself.

I, after 2 weeks of pretty much obeying that blasted diet, was allowed to have....oats!

Oatmeal never tasted so fucking good.
And the kicker, I can *finally* share the fruit that my wonderful booboo picks up for us every day.

For some, today is good. For others, you have my deepest understanding and sympathies.

Posted by lysa at 11:33 AM | Comments (3)

December 7, 2005

I said Brrrrr

I would like to say "Brrr".

We have finally entered the "holy shit, it's nipply out here" season. K-Mart can start playing *&^$# Christmas music the day after Thanksgiving if it wants to, but it aint winter until we walk out and all our appendages wish they were testicles.

School is going well. So far I am running an A in my classes, and I might actually get my first ever 4.0 GPA.

I was in an education hearing today and I heard how they were considering basing teachers initial salary on their SAT scores. I wouldn't be allowed to go food shopping by myself if our ability is society were based on our SAT scores. What is it with this society and tests? Do teachers need a way of having some empiral data to measure their students success, absolutely, but this notion that a test can provide the end-all-be-all to teacher improvement is nonsense. Do you know that the DOE doesn't even store the statistics collected from these tests? Did you know that the Chair department of Education for the city of New York doesn't provide a breakdown of the answers for these tests? The DOE doesn't provide a strict breakdown of test scores. For example, no one knows if a majority of a class all got one problem wrong. What if they got the same 10 questions wrong, and now these kids are suffering because their teacher stunk and it'll take the school a yearafter those kids graduate to figure it out.

I don't know if I want to be a teacher or someone who manages how this system works. Either way, there are things that have to change, and I think I'm inline to kick some ass.

Posted by lysa at 1:44 PM | Comments (1)

November 25, 2005

Measure in, tears?

Apparently, something besides high levels of cortisol are occuring in my body - it would seem as if my lacrimal glands are out of control.

I saw Rent tonight and cried. I'm not talking about a single, lonely tear - I am talking about rivers of saline making the quest (at record breaking speeds) down my cheeks.

I cried when I saw the play. Once you get passed all the whining, there is a story there that's worthy of a few tears. Jonathon Larson (writer, creator of Rent) died on opening day, never being able to see his creation come alive in front of an audience. I cried for him. I cried because I have people I love, and I know loss. When I put those two together and replay the feeling of that loss with the people I love while listening (watching isn't necessary) to the music of this play and hearing Larson's plea for love, I weep.

Jesse L. Martin did a fantasic job as Tom Collins and carried the role with that shy smile of his and his compasssionate voice. I am a little in love with Jesse Martin and noticed a resemblance to Gregory Hines, and then I cried a little more, because he's dead too.

Over all, Rent was a horrible replication of the original Broadway show, but it certainly carries all the drama of the original with it.

Happy Thanksgiving, all.

Posted by lysa at 1:21 AM | Comments (4)

October 21, 2005

The Philosophy of Dating

I recently had a talk with a friend of mine about the perceptions of dating. Tell me, what would you answer him? Were he and "Bob" out on a date?

him: for instance, if I went out with Bob here, and bob thought it was a date and I did not

him: would YOU consider that a date

me: it's a pefect example.

me: i would say bob was on a date, but you were not.

him: but then bob was on a date with me.

me: yes, but you werent on a date with him.

me: two people can be in the same place and process it as a different experience.

me: bob experienced a date, you experienced an outing.

him: right, but from the perspective of waiter...are we on a
date?

me: the waiter doesn't have enough information to determine what it was, lest he knew your intentions.

him: right, he is completely independent.

me: right, he doesn't have enough information to assess what
the event was.

him: so if someone asked him at gunpoint "are those 2 on a date". the honest answer woudl be?

me: he could assume, but he could never know.

me: or, he may have a different definition of date

him: hrm...interesting

me: maybe two people sharing a meal is a date, regardless of their intentions.

him: that is true...I find the definition swings wildly

me: it does.

Posted by lysa at 12:55 PM | Comments (10)

October 5, 2005

i got nothing.

No, really, stop reading now. I have nothing of interest to report, comment on or rant about.

I don't know how I've done on my Biology test.
I don't know if I am able to switch my art class.
I don't know what school I am going to next semester, if I will going in the day of the evening or what I will be doing for money.
I do not know when I am getting married.
I certainly do not know if I am having kids, never mind when.

Please, get off the BPC and the MPC, and if you don't know what these are, don't ask.

I haven't finished my song,
My cats scream at night and I don't know why.

Really, drive through.

Posted by lysa at 10:40 PM | Comments (4)

September 12, 2005

Another Year

By request, the citizens of Battery Park City have taken pictures of the Tower Lights.

Tower Lights

Posted by lysa at 1:37 AM | Comments (2)

September 6, 2005

"Cheaper than a Hotel, less crap than Mom's"

Home is the place where, when you have to go there, They have to take you in.
~Robert Frost, The Death of the Hired Man

There's a lot of bullshit behind the word home, but this is a little bit of sunshine for those who create one filled with enough warmth to calm a hysteric at the wee hours of the morning - make up a bed you don't expect she'll sleep in and feed her in the morning.

You know who you are, I love you.

thank you.

Posted by lysa at 12:41 AM | Comments (3)

September 3, 2005

Top 10 lyrics I wish I thought up

I'd like to add that these are not the worlds most profound lyrics, some are down right silly, but I wish I had written them all.

1. "Can you whisper in my ear, the things you wanna feel" - Slide, GooGoo Dolls
       This is a sweet lyric and remensicent of all that love stuff, when you just want to make someone else's dreams come true and have the confidence to know you can.

2. "The lights are kinda rough, but I can turn them off" - Hey Rose, Girlyman
      I love the subtlty of this. It's sensual without having to to be overtly sexual. I mean, who doesn't know what happens when the lights go out?

3. "What day is this, besides the day you left me?" - Stay or Leave, Dave Matthews.
       Who hasn't been here? The day doesn't matter, food doesn't matter - you'd forgot to sleep if it wasn't for your best friend getting you so crocked you pass out.. this is the lingering thought after every bad breakup. This sums up so perfectly what volumes of bad poetry can never accomplish.

4. "I just wanna make love to you in some dark, rainy street somewhere" - Bleed A little While Tonight, Lowest of the Low.
       Maybe it's the meter of this song - I mean, the lyric itself isn't all that complex - but there is something about this line that just takes me right there - in that alley, kisses through the rain. I just hope he places this scene in the summer...

5. "Lovers come and go, when Hot gets a little cold" - Hot gets a little Cold, Cyndi Lauper.
       Simple, yes - but so damn telling about what happens when that initial fire burns out and you have to figure out if you have something beyond lust.

6. "And now you just turn away and say Romeo? I think I used to have a scene with him" - Rome and Juliet - Mark Knoffler.
      This song might actually make it onto another list - the best story telling song of all time along with "devil went down to Georgia" and Bob Dylan's "Hurricane". I think it took a lot of creativity to take such a known tale famous for it's tragic love story and turn it into a comedy - even if it is only in a song.

7. "When I was a boy" - Dar Williams.
       Yes - I wish i thought of the whole song. It's sung ripe with sarcasm, as us Dar fans have gotten used to over the years. The song is about the gender roles we're forced into as adults and reminds of how things were when we were little, when little boys were little girls and little girls were little boys.

8. "Standing in line marking time--/Waiting for the welfare dime/'Cause they can't buy a job/The man in the silk suit hurries by/As he catches the poor old ladies' eyes/Just for fun he says "Get a job"/ - That's Just the Way it is - Bruce Hornsby
       I was tempted to flake out on this one and put the whole song, but I figured that was inexcusible, and Dar would have to serve as the exception. That being said, this stanza is far more powerful with the company of the rest of the song, but it hits hard all by itself. It's a touching tribute to the stupidity of America, and a frightening reminder of how some shit just doesn't change.

9. "But I got debts no honest man can pay" - Atlantic City, Bruce Springsteen
       I don't doubt that it's the sincerity that makes this line heart-wrenching and real, something Bruce manages to do quite frequently on Nebraska and now, Devils and Dust. His down-home folk makes you forgot how stinkin rich he is, and convinces you that maybe, maybe, he still has a soul.

10. "Baby I want scary kisses,/I want hits and I want misses,/I want hell and I want bliss,/and all that stuff between it,/and if you gave me safety in a short time I'll be driven crazy,/I would rather run and fall,/then take no chance at all" - Scary Kisses, Voice of the Beehive.
       This sums up what 15 years of therapy couldn't manage to figure out. We don't like to be bored.

Posted by lysa at 3:05 PM | Comments (4)

August 30, 2005

i'll see your 17 credits and raise you to 19.

If there is any lesson to be learned from this blog, it should be the fact that with every Zonino there is an Oninoz.

Someone suggested that I change my major to Liberal Arts from Childhood Education in order to be able to graduate this semester. Here are the steps that followed:

Aug 29th - 3:20pm: Education Class - Academic Advisement. 20 minutes
Asked permission to go to the Academic Advisement Office to obtain a Liberal Arts Graduation checklist. I realize that I can indeed graduate this semester.

Aug 30th - 1:35pm: Academic Advisement Office - 7th floor. 1hr.
I asked them how I would go about changing my major, what, if any consequences they anticipate from this decision. They carefully went over my transcript and sent me to the computers to make sure my credits would transfer over well. I do, and the credits look good. My next move is to fill out a change of major form and to go to Hunter College to meet with an advisor and see if I meet thei requirements if I come in with an AA from BMCC.

August 30th - 3:00pm: Hunter College - 68th street, 1st floor. 5 minutes
me: "excuse me, where is academic advisement?"
cop: "11th floor - East building"

I wait in line for 10 minutes to find out this is only for enrolled students. I have to go to the 1st floor, North for pre-enrollment advisement.

August 30th - 3:15pm: Hunter College - North Building - Welcome Center. 30 minutes.
I explain to Aaron what my situation is, and he carefully goes over everything with me. Turns out that since I fucked up my GPA in New Paltz and HUnter so badly, I will prolly have to take 12 credits before I can apply for the Education Program. However, everything else looks good.

August 30th - 3:50pm: BMCC - Registration Office South Building, 3rd Floor. 25 minutes
I'm standing on line thinking of ways I could do what I need to do without standing on this *monstrous* line. I call registration. They tell me I need to speak to Dean Wong to sign an ovverride so I can take 19 credits. Dean Wong is on the Seventh Floor of the South Building.

August 30th - 4:20: BMCC - Dean Won's Place - 7th floor, South. 20 minutes
There is a girl in fron of me explaining to Mr. Wong how her whole family was in a car accident and she was the primary care giver and how some bastard professor just slammed a door in her face. I'm next on line listening to her explain to the Dean how he MUST help her - the Dean gives her some ideas, but does not help her. I am nervous. The lady behind the desk checkes to make sure my GPA and total credits allow me to take 19 credits - they do. Dean Wong signs off.

August 30th - 4:50: BMCC - South Building - 7th Floor. - Academic Advisement. 10 minutes.
I go to hand in my change of major form and am advised I need to find "a counselor" to sign off on it even tho the department head already did.

August 30th - 4:45: BMCC - 3rd floor - counselors office.
I find a counselor - he signs.

August 30th - 5:00: BMCC - Theatre 1 - South Building, 1st Floor. - Registration
I hand the guy my advisement sheet - he tells me I need to register by a computer near the eating area - I point to Dean Wongs signature - the guy lets me in. The line has about 10 people in front of me. Finally, I get all the classes I need to graduate this semester.

Zonino!

Posted by lysa at 5:51 PM | Comments (3)

August 18, 2005

Concened Citizens...

My friends are so cute..

(14:08:35) sprinkles: your blog has appeared to have gone down
(14:19:56) nawgah: why is your blog down?
(14:11:54) genie: yeah, both of our sites are down

Posted by lysa at 2:37 PM | Comments (2)

August 17, 2005

Thanks, honeybee...

More Scientific You have: 62% SCIENTIFIC INTUITION and 47% EMOTIONAL INTUITION

The graph on the right represents your place in Intuition 2-Space. As you can see, you scored about average on emotional intuition and above average on scientific intuition.Keep in mind that very few people score high on both! In effect, you can compare your two intuition scores with each other to learn what kind of intuition you're best at. Your scientific intuition is stronger than your emotional intuition. Your Emotional Intuition score is a measure of how well you understand people, especially their unspoken needs and sympathies. A high score score usually indicates social grace and persuasiveness. A low score usually means you're good at Quake. Your Scientific Intuition score tells you how in tune you are with the world around you; how well you understand your physical and intellectual environment. People with high scores here are apt to succeed in business and, of course, the sciences.

Posted by lysa at 4:34 PM | Comments (2)

August 14, 2005

A Summer Summery (courtesy of CNN)

So, I am cleaning out the V1ag.ra CIalIss emails from my Inbox and noticed I haven't been deleting my CNN updates..

Here is our summer, so far:

-- One of three young suspects detained in Aruba confesses to killing Alabama teenager, senior police official says. :(

-- Michael Jackson found innocent on all 10 counts in his child molestation trial. ;|

-- Former Klansman Edgar Ray Killen found guilty of three counts of manslaughter in 1964 slayings of three civil rights workers. :)

-- U.S. agriculture officials say tests on cow in the United States have come back positive for mad cow disease. :(

-- Justice Sandra Day O'Connor, first woman on U.S. Supreme Court, is retiring. :(

-- Judge orders New York Times reporter Judith Miller jailed for refusing to divulge source who revealed CIA operative. :( Shame on you, judge!

-- Police say a fuel tanker hit by a car bomber exploded, killing at least 58 people south of Baghdad. :(

-- President Bush will nominate U.S. Circuit Judge John Roberts Jr. to fill the Supreme Court vacancy, CNN has learned.

-- Scotland Yard responding to reports of "incidents" at three London Underground subway stations.

-- Fatal shooting in subway station linked to ongoing anti-terror probe, London police say. Images released of four men wanted in connection with failed bombings.

-- Space shuttle Discovery lifts off, marking first shuttle flight since Columbia disaster in February 2003.

-- Saudi Arabia's King Fahd has died at age 82.

-- President Bush today to name John Bolton to be nation's U.N. ambassador through recess appointment, senior Bush administration official says.

-- All passengers survive after an Air France jet overruns a Toronto, Canada, runway and bursts into flames, officials said. :)

-- Italian media: Passenger jet carrying 35 people goes down off Sicily. :(

-- Russian sub trapped in deep waters is raised and all crew members are alive, says spokesman for U.S. Pacific Fleet. :)

-- Peter Jennings, the longtime anchor of ABC's "World News Tonight," died Sunday, the news network reports. He was 67. :(

-- Tennessee officials: Escaped prisoner George Hyatte and his wife captured at Columbus, Ohio, hotel. Jennifer Hyatte was injured. :|

-- U.N. nuclear watchdog agency adopts resolution calling on Iran to halt nuclear fuel development. (here we go, again)

-- British Airways cancels all flights in and out of London's Heathrow Airport until 1 p.m. ET (1700 GMT) Friday. <-- this was due to a strike, not a terrorist attack, so :)

Posted by lysa at 8:24 PM | Comments (1)

August 11, 2005

Top Ten Lesser Known Uses for Boyfriends

1. They stretch out the shirts that have shrunk in the dryer.
2. They retrieve food.
3. They, when asked, suck the too sweet almond coating off your good humor toasted almond bar.
4. Twice the wardrobe including fun, non-binding outfits.
5. All around thermal heater.
6. Full Sized Body Pillow.
7. They're unsuspectingly entertaining.
8. They distract telemarketers (courtesy of the bee)
9. Someone is finally around to feed those darn cats.
10. Excellent for filling the home with other people's garbage.

Posted by lysa at 5:29 PM | Comments (4)

August 8, 2005

Flow

you do not offer kindness in retrospect,
or in silent, rose colored wishes,
but in water bottles kept cool in the kitchen.

It would be easily overlooked by some, i suppose,
if not for my smile which alerts me to good deeds.

You make sure I have what I need,
from water in the morning to immeasurable support.
Each morning I love you more.

Posted by lysa at 12:36 PM | Comments (2)

August 3, 2005

Finally, a breakthrough!

For those of you who read this blog, or those of you who get to hear my rants moments after my fury comes forth, you know that I have had some red-tape trouble regarding school. For a brief recap, I'll remind you that I have 3 more math classes to take, each have to be taken one semester at a time. I had a chance to take my next class over summer session, but some severe miscommunications between myself and the school made that impossible. I'm now destined for 3 more semesters at BMCC before I even transfer over to a 4 year school. The theory is, is that once I get there I'll have my associates, and will only have to take the classes required for my major. This schoool thing is going to take years.

So I try to register for this next math class, Trigonometry for Idiots, and the registration program says I can't. My fury starts to build. I call the school and they let me know I'll have to come down, today, and register in person with all the new kiddies. I start getting involved in an internal harranging. I start practicing using words like "civil servants", "Righteous indignation" and "instituion is here to serve the students". I get ready for a fight. I walk to school in a blooming frenzy and get there ready to speak to every single member of the staff.

I was so wrong. Zonino!!!

There was not 1,000 new applicants/registrants. I was helped immediately, and most importantly, I was actually helped! Turns out I wasn't able to register for the class because it would take me over the allowed 18 hours of class that BMCC allows. They asked me what my GPA was, and I boasted about my Dean's List accomplishment. The kind man helping me was unimpressed and asked for the corresponding number. 3.84, I beam! He walks away to see if he can overrride the block. I start getting ready again, holding 3 months of paperwork and a bad attitude. He comes back and clears the block. I am registered!

Sometimes, things work out. Not being accustomed to things going so well, I went and got my eyebrows waxed. Ouch.

Posted by lysa at 12:28 PM | Comments (7)

August 1, 2005

Ahhh, technology

Sometimes, I really wonder what developers were thinking. I'm new to FreeBSD, mainly I go RedHat. I've been using them for so long it's just easier. But I got this new job for the summer and they have a bizarre configuration. Seems the previous sysadmin couldn't figure out what he liked, so out of 6 databases, 5 are freebsd (3 one version, 2 another) and 1 is RedHat.

Trying to send mail and sendmail won't start. No logs, no hints, nothing. So i ask my local guru and he informes me of a ENABLE_SENDMAIL setting in /etc/rc.conf. Why the ability to enable sendmail is there is beyond me, but hey, at least i know what the issue is.

You have 3 choices in this file:
NONE, NO, and YES.

To quote guru:
"yes, all you need to do is set the variable to NO, and it'll handle local mail" :)"

I give up.

Posted by lysa at 3:58 PM | Comments (1)

July 31, 2005

The Jam-A-Que

Well, this weekend rocked. Literally. Every year my brother and his rocking lady throw a jam-a-que. They humor me and let me play a few songs while the real musicians are kicking back, taking a break and getting some beer. It was a birthday celebration as well, with just a few of my closest clan driving a total of 9 hours just to see little 'ol me embarass the heck out of myself.

After the jam we drove over railroad tracks and bingo halls to find an 'ol fashioned ice cream shop. You know those moments when you're a kid and your parents bring you to paradise? It's not much different when you're an adult surrounded by the people you love. Despite a near-wedding incident our gang had a nice stroll down memory lane. I miss all of them, and if I move closer to one, I move further away from the other. There is always the ranch...

Anyway, me and the fellah are gonna go strut around downtown a bit, thanks for tuning in.

Posted by lysa at 2:16 PM | Comments (3)

July 26, 2005

Thank you Mr. Vonnegut

"Science had given humanity forces enough to destroy the earth, and politics had given humanity a fair assurance that the force would be used."

-Kurt Vonnegut,
"Thanasphere", Bagombo Snuff Box.

Posted by lysa at 8:40 AM | Comments (1)

July 24, 2005

24 hours of sleep on the wall, 24 hours of sleep...

I know, I know, you are hardly surprised. It seems that this waking up early thing has made sleeping without blackout curtains easier than I expected. It wasn't 24 hours *straight* but a nice combination of 14 hours on Friday night and 10 on Saturday night.

I feel nice.

So, after spending 1 whole week working again, I think I have to quit. The busses and trains are even more unreliable than I had planned for, and it seems that there may not be any way to make it to school on time in the Fall. The whole reason I took this job was because it was condusive to my school schedule.

It sucks, I really like this job. I wish they believed in tele-commuting, it would be perfect.

And in other, totally unrelated news, this makes me smile. From Pixar's 'Boundin':

Here's a story on how strange is life with its changes and it happened not long ago On a high mountain plain, where the sagebrush arranges a playground south of the snow Lived a lamb with a coat of remarkable sheen it would glint in the sunlight all sparkly and clean Such a source of great pride that it caused him to preen And he'd break out in high-steppin' dance.He would dance for his neighbors across the way I must say that they found his dancin' enhancin' for they'd also join in the play Then one day... farmer takes sheep away and shears his coat, leaves him naked and pink in the cold rain. His friends laugh at him and he is sad Then a-boundin' up the slope came a great American Jackalope This sage of the sage, this rare hare of hope, caused to pause and check out the lamb, Hey, kid, why the mope? I used to be something all covered with fluff and I'd dance in the sunlight and show off my stuff Then they hauled me away in a manner quite rough and sheared me and dumped me back here in the buff. And if that's not enough, now my friends laugh at me 'cause they think I look ridiculous funny and pink. Pink? Pink? Well, what's wrong with pink? Seems you got a pink kink in your think. Does it matter what color? Well that gets a nope Be it pink, purple or heliotrope. Now, sometimes you're up, and sometimes you're down when you find that you're down, well just look around You still got a body, good legs and fine feet,get your head in the right place and, hey, you're complete. Now as for the dancin' you can do more.You can reach great heights, in fact you can soar.You just get a leg up and you slap it on down, and you'll find you're up in what's called "a bound".Bound, bound and rebound. Bound and you're up right next to the sky And I think you can do it if you give it a try.First, get a leg up, slap it on down. So every year, long about May,they'd load him up and they'd haul him away.And they'd shave him and dump him all naked and bare He learned to live with it, he didn't careHe'd just bound, bound, bound and rebound.Now in this world of ups and downs... so nice to know there are jackalopes around.

Posted by lysa at 11:24 AM | Comments (0)

July 22, 2005

The Transit Blues...

"Due to a stalled "A" train at Canal street, there will be no uptown "A" service"

In this space between the ladies first and second spoken line, I will add some internal dialogue, and some information for ya'll to understand how fucking insane this is. I have 2 single points of failure in my commute. The "A" train is the ONLY train that stops at the station I want to go. It is the only train that stop CLOSE to the station I need to go to. Without the "A" train, there is no me getting to work even close to ontime.

So, now i'm contemplating going back into bed and just calling in. Normally, we sysadmins call this "working from home". A good laptop, an old movie and a VPN and a day stuck in bed can turn fun. But we don't have that quite yet... give me time..

*3 minutes later
"Ladies and Gentleman, there is an "A" train approaching West 4th Street"

Unbefuckmelievable. But not half as frustrating to me as it must have been for the hordes of people who followed the speakers instructions to get a Queens bound "E" train in hope of, actually, I have no idea what the point would be..

I get to the GWB terminal at 7:41 and run, and i mean RUN to the bus gate, nearly throwing up along the way. The bus is gone. It is 7:43.

The end result is that I miss my bus by 3 minutes and I am 30 minutes late for work.

Posted by lysa at 9:54 AM | Comments (0)

July 19, 2005

compromise

Compromises are betrayls of self that you do in order to not grow old alone.

Posted by lysa at 11:34 PM | Comments (1)

July 18, 2005

In Summation.

I have a humdinger of an update to write. I don't know if I have anything to say, but I figure it's been a while.

I started a new job today. It's in fucking jersey. I hate fucking jersey, but they are paying me to be here, so I guess we'll see how it goes. The place is a little odd, they have a 'clock-in' system which weirds me out a little. What technical company has a clock-in system? Where are we, a supermarket?

I have been informed several times now that having girls around in a technical position is an abnormality around here. I've been seated in the area called 'the pit' and share a space with two boys. I cannot tell them enough that this is not the first time I have been the only girl in all boy meetings and that I can handle myself. It was brought up again that if anything should happen that breaches my comfort level i should inform the boss immediately.

I wonder if i can tell him how uncomfortable the clock-in system makes me?

One of the guys has offered to postpone my insane commute and drive me home on some days, which will really, REALLY rock. This of course is the same guy who just went head-to-head with me on the altrusim of the United States and declared that we are not imperialists. I hope there isn't traffic.

Vancouver was really nice. The sites were pleasant, Whistler (home of the upcoming winter Olympics) was beautiful and I made friends with a horsie named Major. Major likes peeing in mountain streams, so bathing beauties in your bathing suites, watch out.

Speaking of bathing suits... actually, no. There will be no speaking out my latest bathing suit experience.

I was quoted on shameless... which made me feel all gooey and wise.

I got to see Bruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuce in concert this past weekend. He was promoting his "Devils and Dust" album and had some very, very not Bruce songs.. namely Reno, which is a heartwearming tale about a prostitute. A note for anyone looking to go see Bruce in concert. Bring food and water. Sneak it in, be proper and buy it at the concessions, but for humanity's sake, have water. Bruce has interruption issues. He closes the concession stands 10 minutes to concert time, shows up 30 minutes late and doesn't allow seating during songs. If you get up to pee, and Bruce is playing a 10 minute rendition of some good 'ol folk, you're ass is staying out of the seating area until the song is over. On a positive note the sound was amazing, and I think I'll be buying his album. It's a lot of acoustic, some piano, and an organ! There's one song, which I can't remember that is audibly astonishing, with Bruce making a driving drumbeat from his boots into a piece of wood that was on the floor. Really astounding. The Pepsi Area was at least 80 degrees, and we had no water. Really Bruce, deal with the interuption. It's fucking water!

I want to talk more about Vancouver, but unfortunately, I am forever going to associate the London bombings with my stay there, and I don't want to think about that right now.

I saw "War of the Worlds" and to quote the guy who was a hero in bed last night:

"The most compelling first hour and a half of moviemaking i've ever seen. It blew Signs out of its "Aliens cant open a wooden door" ass, it bent over Independence "A Mac Can Crush an entire alien civilization that's capable of interspace travel with an ass virus" Day and smacked it around. Intense visuals, compelling storyline..characters i actually liked."

I highly recommend it. Seriously. Even for those of you who don't like to watch shit get blown up. It is a little gory, but also, kinda pretty. Like entrails blowing in the breeze.

Posted by lysa at 2:53 PM | Comments (2)

July 3, 2005

Filing and the XY chromosome.

So, we have these boxes.

They have been there so long we're thinking of matching the walls to them, and just have a cardboard motif through the living room. Today, we decided, that the boxes have to go. We bought some filing cabinets (big, plastic, brightly colored) and decided since most of those boxes hold paper, some filing cabinets would do the job just fine.

I would like to share with you, my friends, the XY's version of "filing".

Posted by lysa at 7:44 PM | Comments (1)

July 1, 2005

I want to be a sellout, mommy!

Professional speaking, when it comes to what I want to do for the rest of my life, I *still* have no idea. Had you asked me when I was fourteen, I would have had an answer, sort of. I would have said "I do not want to sit behind a desk for the rest of my life". I was intent on saving the world back then, I just couldn't figure out how I'd get paid.

I started at Icon, CMT when I was in my early 20's. I was the only woman (girl) in the IS department. There were female programmers, and female managers, but in the IS department, I was the only one. After I had left Icon, a system had been put in place: women would come in as receptionist, move up to help desk, and get some level of certification. I was proud to make the way for others after me, and I had felt like a compromise had been reached between the old me, and the one that realized that what you do for a living, is not who you are.

It's years later and I am back in school, finishing up the education that I left behind for Icon. I just had an interview at another company in Jersey, which is about 2 tasks behind 'blow hole in the back of my head' on my ToDo list. The company allows a work schedule which will work with school, even though it means getting up at an hour in the morning I have never seen. The CTO and I were talking about the place, and after going over salary, health benefits (both of which are fair, but not excellent) he told me (as we were walking to the bus) that the CEO of the company is a bit of an old fashioned fellah, and the idea of a woman being in a position of power in the company concerned him. I felt the fire start in me, I was ready to be enraged, fight for my rights, prove myself to this 'ol dinosaur, and then the CTO tells me I would be the only woman in a powerful position, making almost as much money as the CTO, and my coming on would probably open up the doors for more women to hold positions of influence in this company.

Can it be done? Can you make money and still change the world? The CTO mentioned that this wasn't supposed to be a selling point, but truth be told, this was the best point I had heard about the company yet.

Maybe this is another compromise, maybe I can reduce my pay a mere 2-3K and open up some old, dodgy republicans eyes ( the CEO's office had a Bush-Cheney sticker, I nearly ran out but then I found out it was not the CTO's office ).

I think maybe, I can change the world and make a living.

Posted by lysa at 4:36 PM | Comments (1)

June 13, 2005

"update your blog for fucks sake"

The daily grind of the unemployed.

There are a few types of blogs. The two that specifically ring out in my head are the kinds packed with political or social commentary and the others are the day-to-day ramblings, rantings. craving, fluff and thoughts of the masses. I wish mine was the first, but I suppose it's the second.

This entry is a request from her

I lost my job a few months back. I was in school full-time and working somewhere between full and part time and I was relieved for the opportunity to concentrate on school. It's been about a month since Spring semester ended, and I've been home. I have somehow transformed from a part/full time Systems Administrator/Studemt/Programmer into a modern, yet painstainkingly obvious housewife.

In the morning I tend to the kitchen, so that it is easier for me to prepare dinner later. After that I check for laundry to be done, and putter around seeing if there is anything I can tidy up.

I break a few hours later to get back to the geek in me, check in with consultant work, compose some emails, look for a job that will compliment my school schedule for next semester, and hope back on my feet to make sure dinner is prepared when my boyfriend gets home.

There is a pride in this act that perhaps comes from old ground in notions that domestic upkeep is a chore for the woman, but I find that it's the same pride that comes from writing a good application, or fixing a bug that just kept pissing you off. Do a job, and do it well, I say.

With that in mind, I leave you with some recipes.

Brown Sugar Meatloaf
San Francisco Pork Chops (served over egg noodles)

Posted by lysa at 12:51 PM | Comments (1)

June 1, 2005

And the Grades are In

The boxes are getting unpacked, there's about one row left. It's nice, being able to go from bathroom to bedroom with only the cats to trip on. The new neighborhood is really nice, suburban, sunlit and breezy.

I got my grades back, it broke down to a 3.84 GPA with 3 A's and 1 B+.
People want me to be proud, but somehow I'm not. I think even if i accomplished the 4.0, I wouldn't be. I'm so far behind on what I should be doing: unemployed, totally in debt to those fucks at NYS taxation and finance, and totally clueless as to how I'm going to do this for another 2 years (financially).

It's a small triumph, but I have a long way to go. Q, said it best:

Posted by lysa at 3:16 PM | Comments (4)

May 19, 2005

Buh-Bye Mouse-y

I'm moving.
again.

9 times in 10 years and I still wait until the last minute to accomplish just about everything.

I pulled an all nighter, which should be good practice for finals next week.

For any interested, I managed to get an 86 on a test I never scored higher than a 20 on, no more remedial math - ever.

zo.ni.no

Posted by lysa at 6:28 AM | Comments (2)

April 25, 2005

Nashville, plugged

So, here I am: Stressed beyond compare and looking to lose some brain cells watching the tele. I flip on the original "amityville horror" only to learn that the story it was based on was fake. The man who told the story made it up to get out of a divorce. This is me changing the channel. *click*.

Next up I find "True Romance". True Romance is one of my favorite movies, and I am especially proud that it's on Lifetime. Yep, Lifetime - and why not Lifetime? Patricia Arquette is a kick ass woman in this film. Due to its violence, tho, I figured they would put it on Spike TV. Unfortunately, Lifetime censors curses. *click*

There is nothing on the tele. I find myself on "Nashville Star", poison pill in hand. I can't believe it has gotten SO bad I am being reduced to watching reality tv. I like country, I like vocals and lots of guitars, so I figure of all the musical reality crap, this might be watchable. Brett (aint nothin but a good time) Michaels is a judge, and he (and his waxed armpits) delight us to a rendition of none other than "Aint Nothing but a Good Time". At this time one of the leading "stars" comes on to compete. Can someone tell me why there is a FULL BAND backing up these Nashville Stars? What are we judging them on anyway?

*click*.

In other news, Bruce Springsteen wrote "Blinded by the Light" and he intended the lyric to be deuce, NOT douche. A deuce was his way of describing the two seater cars driving by, and he was the "teenage diplomat" mentioned in the song.

Have a good day, and I hope you enjoyed this section of Storytellers.

Posted by lysa at 11:43 PM | Comments (1)

April 13, 2005

Where do we go, from here?

I just paid $2.07 for one red pepper. NYC is really way too expensive... but were else would one live?

Wisconsin just permitted the hunting of wild cats. Wisconsin joins South Dakota and Minnisota in allowing folks with small game licenses to shoot wild cats. Three states down.

Posted by lysa at 9:03 PM | Comments (4)

April 7, 2005

Midterm alerts - updated

so far we have:

crazy history professor: B+
education profesor who assumes we all have children: A-
Speech: A+
Other history: B+

if you're doing an informative speech on how the internet works, do you think it's fair that you have to use books as resources???
blech.

Posted by lysa at 8:18 PM | Comments (0)

April 4, 2005

Of Course, Of Course

No, I'm not kidding. At least I don't think I'm kidding. During my early morning slumber I am faily certain I heard a horse tap dancing. This horse wasn't a particularly good tap dancer. The hooves came down with some expertise, a clomp-clomp per second, and then a pause, just long enough to wait till I started drifting back into my snooze.
There are a lot of noises you hear living in this city: garbage trucks, overly-zealous cabbies, horns at all hours, but the last thing I expected was a tap-dancing horse fucking with my snooze.

In other news, for those on midterm watch:
I got a B+ from my crazy history professor. I am not amused.

Posted by lysa at 11:26 AM | Comments (1)

March 24, 2005

Something to Blog About

Got to admit, I haven't had any time for this blogging thing. So many of us rarely update our blogs.

Where to start....

Well, I am officially upright, so, thats good. Every once in a while I get a slight twinge of unhappiness back there, but all in all thins are good.

As far as school goes, we're in midterms week. One down, 3 to go. My conspiracy theorists history had his midterm last Tuesday. He hasn't given us one quiz, an I have no idea what to expect. The good news is, he grades our notebooks - I got an "A". The notebook is like 30% of my grade.

Math is... not going well. I'm studying really hard, I have a tutor, and it's still not going very well.

I bought a dirt devel. Stranded cat litter be gone!.

My best friends birthday is coming up soon, and I"m looking around for presents. All I have to do is keep her from buyin anyting for the next two months and all will be well.

In other news, zonino oobooey ooboey.

You will not hear from me again until I et over midterm week. Nice spring break.

Surely there must have been something to piss me off this week..... maybe i'll update later.

Posted by lysa at 8:05 PM | Comments (2)

March 9, 2005

The Backs of Life.

Prepare for a long one.

One Friday, I stepped into my elevator. This is a fairly normal occurence, I live on the 7th floor and I'm not all that active. I coughed when I was in the elevator - also a fairly regular occurence. You know how you lunge forward a little when you cough, bend a little at the waist? Well, I did, bend, and I didn't get back up.

Turns out more people throw their backs our coughing and sneezing than I had originally thought - or so says my professional massause Taylor Techniques (who did a wonderful job) says. Turns out I seriouesly "pissed off" my Quadratus Lumborum muscle - which is knows as the "QL" to folks in the business.

This unfortunate coughing incident landed me on the floor for a few days - leaving me fairly incapacitated. The upside of this are the wonderful people who came over to cook me food, clean up after me and allowed me to use them for human canes.

If, by chance, you ever hurt you QL muscle, it is not advisable to sit in guitar class, or any class for any extended period of time wven when you think you're feeling better. Please, trust me.

For those that are interested, we worked on jazz in guitar class. I must practice tonight.

As for my current status, I can stand up straight and walk with a little hobble. The good news is I am no longer racing little old women with canes across the street and having them beat me.

Posted by lysa at 10:47 AM | Comments (3)

February 25, 2005

Doppleganged?

This is not me, yet she looks exactly like me. Who is this woman who poses for stock art?

Yet another mystery....

She does remind me that I need to get my eyebrows trimmed. Thank you, Stock Art girl.

Posted by lysa at 12:20 AM | Comments (2)

February 24, 2005

For every zonino, there is an equal and opposite oninoz.

So, the goodness of the day came during the credit transfer process here at BMCC. Turns out, they accepted transfer credits for both World Lit I & II, neither of which I actually took at any other school. Greek and Roman Literature qualified as WLI, and 20th Century British Poetry counted as WLII. Go Homer.

The oninoz of the situation is Spanish. Si. Spanish. CUNY to CUNY will accept any grade above a D.

Grades below a C- will not be accepted if they were earned at any other educational institution.

The Zonino of it all, is that I have 7 classes before I can get the first of my 3 degrees, and I estimate that with Summer I and Summer II sessions, I can be out of here by the end of the Fall Semester.

ZONINO!

Posted by lysa at 12:04 PM | Comments (1)

February 21, 2005

"Pieces of Sheet"

This weekend I went (with company) to the new art exibit in Central Park. The exibit attracted many, MANY tourists.

I have to say, I was woefully unimpressed.

Maybe if I was to be surrounded by sheets of orange, maybe if they would blow with the wind, maybe if it wasn't just piecs of fabic tied to poles.

Even the tourists thought it was lame, and these are the folks who take pictures of the guys dealing 3 card monty in times square.

Posted by lysa at 11:56 PM | Comments (1)

February 19, 2005

Zonino, Part Duex!

Today is Saturday, so I had my guitar lesson. At first there was 4 people in the class. Now, there are two. Turns out there was a pretty equal divide of skill so we got split up. Today, my classmate couldn't make it, so i got a private lesson.

There's a band called girlyman that has a ong called "The Shape I Found You In". It's a beautiful song, and it's in an alternate tuning so I can't really figure it out. Anyway, my private lesson today was fruitfull in delivering unto me the tablature!!!!!

My fingers will be killing me by the end of the week, but i'm going to learn that song.

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

February 16, 2005

BMCC

So, a community college it may be, but you really can't deny the perks...BMCC is located about a bloc off the Hudson, and with my absolutely disgusting schedule, I get a few hours during the day where I can take a walk over and relax with what nature Manhattan has to offer.

I've gone back to school for education. I always said I wanted to work with kids, and then those damn computer people started paying me. Since they have stopped paying me, I've decided to go back, finally graduate, and get on with what I said I'd always do.

I'm enjoying school and doing well. I wish I had this kind of clarity the first time. Now I know how much of a game this is, I want good grades, and there are a series of things I have to do for them.
It's really not as dramatic as I used to think.

enjoy the view.

Posted by lysa at 11:00 PM | Comments (2)

February 12, 2005

A blog in 3 part dissonance

Part 1: Valentines Day Weekends

Over the years, there is still one lesson I have not yet learned: never go away for "special occasions". There is something that happens to couples in those scenarios. Maybe it's the pressure of having a weekend be more special than those standard issue ones. When you try to make something more special, I think you forget about the day-to-day common courtesy's needed to make that happen. I fell victim to this last mistake.

My advice to all those seeking it is to remember the please's and the thank you's, and don't forgot to keep the part of your personality that got you a Valentine to begin with.

Part II
Why isn't learning how to stop the FIRST thing they teach you when you take lesons? Bike Riding? Stop! Roller Blading? Stop! Snowboarding? Stop!

Teach me how to stop!!!!

And Part III,

to all the ladies,
If you're looking for your special friend to come a little early, throw yourself, spinning uncontrollably, down a mountain. It helped me.

Posted by lysa at 10:20 PM | Comments (1)

February 8, 2005

Subway Dimensia

Today, I managed to miss my stop on the train, twice. The first time I was too engrossed in my history book to realize to change trains, so my local train went all the way to end of the line. Panicked, I went to the front car an knocked on the conductors door. After explaining that I was a moron, he explained that this is a common mistake, and I should take my ass upstairs and walk to school.

The second, I was on an express, and forgot to switch to the local. Obviously today was math class.

I'll write more, as soon as I remember what I wanted to say.

Posted by lysa at 3:08 AM | Comments (1)

February 4, 2005

Zonino!

Welcome Folks,

It turns out I am not as creative as I thought. A while back I purchased a LG cell phone. One night something good happened to me ( obviously an event to inform friends about ) and I used the t9 input to say "woohoo".

If you ever used t9 input, you'd know that if it doesn't have a word you type in its dictionary, it'll supply you with options. It did not know "woohoo", so it suggested zonino.

Now, Iknow a big word or two, but I never heard of zonino! I looked up the possible definition and found none. Zonino, as a word, does not exist.

I google'd it, and found that I was not the first to try and type "woohoo" into a phone, these guys beat me to it.

I figure'd I might as well start using oninoz to define the opposite of zonino, which I started using as my alternate "wooHoo!".

Why can't we ever be ready to do the things when need to do at the times when when doing them would make the most sense?

Posted by lysa at 2:53 AM | Comments (2)