Archive for June, 2008

How I spent my summer vacation

Ever since whoisliz.com officially died last week, I have experienced slim to no traffic over here…Did people really not heed all my warnings about changing their links and feeds, or is it just because I didn’t actually post anything all week?

At-Home Companion and I spent the weekend cooped up for a while because, you know, June in New York has become monsoon season. If I were to pen an open letter to our nation’s leader, it might say something like “Hey there, guy, please stop denying that climate change exists. It looks like stock footage from the hurricane episode of The Golden Girls outside my apartment and, mind you, I do not live in Florida. If I did, I wouldn’t be having this conversation with you at all because Al Gore would be president. Thanks for the economic stimulus check by the way, I’m off to buy another AC and a dehumidifier so my bathroom doesn’t smell like mold. Now watch this drive.”

Also, my bathtub seemed to be retaining some water, as in, not everything was draining properly, so I unscrewed the drain screen thing and tried to fish out the hairball culprit. You guys, this was one of those things that was the grossest but most satisfying thing ever. After pulling out a reasonable sized chunk of slimy hair, I kept a-fishin’ and pulled out a gnarly, dreadlocky chunk that could have passed for a wet rat. It was glorious. I gagged the whole time. I handed it over to Liquid-Plumbing Companion because, bless his heart, he was very supportive while watching me poke old hair with a plastic fork, and he offered to prepare said dreadlock for the trash. Did you hear about how the guy in England was fined because he didn’t properly prepare his trash? I love that story so much, if only because it reminds me of the Anal Retentive Chef from SNL (“We place our refuse on the paper towel, making sure our corners are square, and we fold.”) TV Watching Companion and I have also been on a Newsradio kick this week, is that maybe the most underrated show ever? I think it is. Best ensemble cast maybe in the history of sitcoms. Yeah, I said it. But also, R.I.P. Phil Hartman.

Now where was….right. So, the whole reason I tried to unclog the drain this way is because I read that drain cleaners, aside from killing one out of three Heathers (R.I.P. Heather Chandler), are so awful for the environment that they will probably also kill all the alligators in the sewers, too, so why not stick your fingers down a questionable drain and remove all threat to the environment while making yourself gag? It’s all in my quest to be green, folks. Now excuse me while I close all the windows because it’s pouring out and then go throw up.

Interesting fact I learned on my day off

I took today off from work because we get to do that in the summer – every month, we can take a Friday off in June, July and August. I’m sure that my friends who are teachers are laughing at that, but it’s genuinely exciting to get three extra vacation days in the summer when you work in a corporate pit of despair.

Today’s weather was especially perfect so I decided to go back to my old neighborhood (or close to it), and I’m pretty sure I hit all the best shops. I just bought a sewing machine and even though I was ready to throw it out the window last week because I couldn’t even figure out how to get the bobbin thread to catch (which is not even Sewing 101, it’s like Sewing 99), I can’t stop buying accessories. So today I went to cutest store in the world (and the place where I first took sewing lessons), Brooklyn General. They have the best fabric, but today I took it easy and just bought extra bobbins (because every beginner need twelve extra bobbins, right?) (Am I making sarcastic sewing jokes? Have I become that nerdy? In college, Roommate Abby and I were both taking art history and one day she lost a button on her coat. We made a joke about the Button Hoo Burial and oh, how we lauuughed. I thought that was as low as it got for me, I suppose I can’t outgrow it. By the way, the Button Hoo joke was a reference to this…Because what’s the point of being a liberal arts student if you can’t get a good joke in about an excavated Anglo-Saxon cemetery? Now you can say you learned something today.)

I also went to DUB Pies and bought some extra delicious and flaky meat pies. Because sewing and meat pies just make sense together? Sure. My last stop was the crown jewel of Brooklyn shopping, my favorite place, Sahadi’s, which I have discussed before, and where else can you get quick-cooking oats, whole-bean coffee, Ghirardelli chocolate and tahini in one stop? But here’s the thing I’ve been getting at all along – as I was crossing Atlantic Avenue, I saw Peter Bogdanovich with his family, and even on a warm summer day such as this, with no cameras around, the man still wears his ascot. That is what I learned today. No matter what, it’s never the wrong occasion to wear an ascot. Summer Fridays – they’re all about learning new things.

NY Post Punny Whatever of the Whatever

I’m really tired today! Could be because last night , Food-and-Live-Music-Loving Companion and I went out to the Great N.Y. Noodletown and ate our weight in fried things like duck, chives and crispy noodles, then went to the Chinatown Ice Cream Factory (where, by the by, the ice cream is made of cream, fat and then some fatty cream) and then went to the Futureheads show at Bowery Ballroom.

Food-and-Live-Music-Loving Companion realized he knew the bouncer (because, of course, who doesn’t know a Hell’s Angel? Don’t we all?) – they used to be neighbors! My love interest was neighbors with the Hell’s Angels and got to¬† know them – which is thoroughly enjoyable to me because I assume that every day and every encounter would be just like Pee Wee at the biker bar during his Big Adventure. (“I say ya let me have him first!” Anyone? Anyone besides Becky?”) and this particular Angel got us a table in the balcony – we were royalty! V.I.P! Lucky dogs. It was a really good show and we were like 9 feet above the band and it was kind of awesome. Which is why I’m too tired to come up with a pun. Help me, won’t you? We can make this into a game like the New Yorker caption contest – I’ll provide the pun, you pitch me the show. This requires people’s comments. Don’t make me look foolish, readers. Comment!

Here’s your pun – GO:

Second to Nun

Seriously moved

I am expecting that any minute now, whoisliz.com will be dead. ‘Cause I haven’t paid for it to be renewed so…let’s see what happens with that!

If you are still being redirected to this new site from that one, this is one of the last days you have to get it in your noggin that pretty soon, it will be done. For-eh-ver. Seriously, make this wordpress page one of your links and change it in your reader already. Sheesh.

NY Post Punny Show of the Day

If elephants can paint and mini-horses can guide the blind, I don’t see why we don’t put more animals to work. Animal Planet feels the same way, which is why they decided to put a bunch of apes in a boardroom, give them some creative briefs and see what kind of ads they come up with. Will it be better than what the ad wizards are thinking up these days (I’m looking at you, Burger King creepy giant king-head-character creators)? Let’s find out on Gorilla Marketing!

Orange you glad I didn’t stay bananas?

I’m on the mailing list of a swank, Soho salon and last night they held a swank, Soho event for their premier clientele featuring a host of free services. Mini facials, skin analysis, makeovers, spray tans. I signed up for all of them, assuming that I would at least get to do one or two – there was a long wait for everything so I wasn’t really willing (or wanting) to wait around for random mini-versions of spa treatments that wouldn’t be all that relaxing.

Of course, what I had feared the most actually happened – that the only service that would become available after what seemed like an interminable wait (in a tiny room full of size zero 20-year-olds and one woman who looked uncomfortably pregnant and was just there for all the free fruit) would be the spray tanning.

Of course I never say no to free things though. You should know that. I mean, you already know that. So I was like “Yes! Liz! Me! Right here!” and went into the spraying room. A lovely Russian woman sized me up and said (because free tans are by no means comprehensive) “Which part you want sprayed?”

Because you see, dear readers, I only had the choice to have my face or my legs done. Before I could even make my tan Sophie’s choice by saying “My legs,” because hello, these gams is pasty (all of me is pasty, you should know – I am just shy of being translucent), she said “You face.” I was like “Oh really? You think?” and she left the room, called out to someone else “She want her legs!” – and then there was a bunch of muttering. I think she was worried that doing my legs would make me look ridiculous, you know, what with my lower half being on the receiving end of the Great Pumpkin’s dominant genes and my top half looking more Casper. You know what else makes you look ridiculous? Having any ONE body part spray-tanned, and not doing the rest. But by no real choice of my own, face it was.

I kept a tank top on and took off my over-shirt and a light mist washed over my face. After a few minutes of waiting, I was able to put my shirt back on and I hit the streets with a brownish, metallic tinge to my skin. I had to run to Pearl River to do an obligatory noodles and soy sauce run – I know, wherever I go, even Soho, the most expensive shopping neighborhood, I manage to find a way to buy groceries- so I walked around thinking “Damn, I bet I look good right now.” I figure that my glow is making people take notice and say wow, I wonder where SHE just came back from (or “I wonder where her face just came back from! Because the rest of her got a visit from the Liquid Paper Correcting Fluid fairy!”).

By the time I got home, I was like, yes, I am sure I look fine. In fact, I bet this has faded a little bit and it looks natural and Melanin-Loving Companion will be impressed. Errr, maybe not. I think his first words (when he regained the ability to speak) were “Please wash that. Now.” “But,” I protested “I kinda wanna be tan!” and he basically told me “Tan is one thing…But you are not it.” I admit it, it didn’t even look like I was another race or something, it just looked like I was experimenting with base for a high school play. Perhaps you can be the judge, readers. Please note my pasty arm (same color as the pasty envelope) for comparison.

NY Post Punny Kitty of the Day

I didn’t want to go so far out soo soon into my pun of the day foray, but Reece sent me this picture yesterday, so it kind of warrants recognition:

The Captain On Chenille.