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Sunday, September 30, 2001
Fifteen minutes later: I'm cranky because I can't find a miniature-S*m-version of Christiane Amanpour, Gideon Yago (or even Carson Daly), or Kylie Minogue. Also on my list: Sophie Ellis-Bextor, the remaining cast members of S Club 7, Martha Stewart, Jamie Oliver and Rudy Giuliani. I'm starting to scare myself. Starting? No, I'm gunning-for-the-finish-line to scare myself.
Posted at 12:40 PM | Comments (0)
Hello! Pretend I am writing this one year in the past! Then it might seem topical.
Matty convinced me (twisted my arm!) to install The S*ms on his computer. Naturally it ended up on mine too... I didn't play it too much when I got it, but here I sit, totally addicted today...
I'm not going to blather on and on about it, though. Except for one small comment. The skins that people make for The S*ms are FREAKING ME OUT. In case you're unaware, The S*ms is a game where you basically build a house and vaguely control its occupants by fucking around with them. You can download "skins" which are simply New People to move into your house.
So you know who could live in my house now? Christina Aguilera, Missy Elliott, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Tina from S Club 7 and newscaster Soledad O'Brien.
You can even download the entire cast of Survivor but I don't think I'm going to click on that link. Oh, fuck, look, it's the blue lady from Farscape! You can have the spare bedroom upstairs, dearie.
Posted at 12:15 PM | Comments (0)
Friday, September 28, 2001
Way to walk
There are a few different ways for me to walk home from work. Each of them is boring in its own special way. So sometimes I have to play make-believe whilst en route to keep myself sane.
East on 3rd Street. Stare at lost NYU people who aren't on the right street. Cut up through the walkway by the library. Go caddy-corner through Washington Square and past the arch, and up 5th Avenue. When I walk this way I am Betsey Johnson. (She lives on 5th Avenue, right there)
North on Lafayette Street. East on 9th Street. Vaguely consider going west instead, and walking up to Kiehl's. When I walk this way, I am Liv Tyler. (She lives on 5th Avenue, too. In fact, she lives across the street from Betsey. But I don't think the two of them would walk the same way home. Liv would never walk through the park for one thing. The kids there might be near-blind from too much pot and hacky-sack but they would almost certainly recognize "that girl from Empire Records")
North on Broadway. East on 8th Street. Crap, now I'm Amanda Lepore.
Did I say that this ritual keeps me sane? Perhaps that was a poorly chosen word.
Posted at 12:39 PM | Comments (0)
Thursday, September 27, 2001
I haven't seen Julie in ages. I miss her, like the desert misses the rain.
Posted at 12:04 AM | Comments (0)
Tuesday, September 25, 2001
Let's all welcome Phil to the world of weblogs. Whee.
Posted at 05:36 PM | Comments (2)
Clonmany to Ahascragh
I bought a book of poems today.
Seamus Heaney wrote a poem for my cousin Rory after he died of a drug overdose. It was read at his funeral, and copies were printed for our family... and this year it was published in the collection Electric Light.
I'll probably get in trouble for printing any of it, but here is the first stanza. Thinking about it makes me sadder than anything.
Clonmany to Ahascragh
Now that the rest of us have no weeping left
These things will do it for you:
Willows standing out on Leitrim Moss,
Wounds that "wept" in the talk of those before you,
Rained-on statues from Clonmany to Ahascragh,
Condensation on the big windows
And walls of a school corridor in Derry
Where I drew with warm fingers once upon a time
To make a face that wept itself away
Down cold black glass.
Posted at 12:51 PM | Comments (3)
Monday, September 24, 2001
So very slight
Slight template update. I'm sure you're all on the edge of your seats.
Posted at 11:48 PM | Comments (0)
Friday, September 21, 2001
Evil Evie joins the cast
OK, the cat's name is Evie. Alice & Madeline don't really like her, but they will adjust. All her tests at the vet came back negative, but she needs dental surgery, the poor wee dear. She'll be alright in a few days.
Posted at 05:07 PM | Comments (1)
Thursday, September 20, 2001
Posted at 02:54 PM | Comments (0)
Tuesday, September 18, 2001
Stray! Part Two.
So. Yes. The story of the cat. There are an awfully large number of stray cats in our neighborhood. Aside from the 4 or 5 black-and-white spotty cats who have been adopted by the camera store, the greengrocer, the butcher, et al, there's also Smoky (a gray boy with a big head who we first saw the night of the WTC attack), Skittish (who is a tiny white and gray thing who is terrified of people), and now this new tortoise-y kitten with giant Hemingway paws. I always make whispery noises at cats when I see them, so last night as I was walking up my steps I called this one over from the middle of the road. She ran right up the steps to my legs, making a funny croaking noise.
She was so friendly (and so bony) that I ran inside to get a can of cat food for her. In the meanwhile, a blond lady who was walking up our street befriended the cat on our steps. When I came back out with food (and Matty in tow), she started going on and on about how nice this cat was, and how she was a keeper, and we shouldn't let her back into the wild.
She was kind of the Professional type but I forsee a Crazy Cat Lady future for her.
So anyway. The cat. The cat wouldn't leave.
So now the cat lives in our bathroom.
We haven't given her a name yet. I was thinking maybe Claire but Matty vetoed that. Any suggestions from the peanut gallery.
Posted at 02:23 PM | Comments (0)
Stray! Part One.
Anybody want a stray cat?
Posted at 01:27 PM | Comments (0)
Friday, September 14, 2001
How much ass does Christiane Amanpour kick? While every other journalist is blabbing on and on about this "senseless tragedy," she's deconstructing Middle Eastern fatwahs and examining the power structure in Osama bin Laden's organization. AND she was roomates with John-John! I wonder what she has been busy with lately, I haven't seen her on the news much at all.
Posted at 09:34 PM | Comments (0)
And 1 minute later I find out that I don't have a key to my parents' house anyway, so we can't go even if we want to. Blah.
Posted at 03:29 PM | Comments (0)
Don't really know why
I went to work yesterday. I don't really know why. Saw a caravan of army trucks trundle across 12th Street just as the bells at Grace Church began to chime 10am. Chainsmoked the entire walk, tried to ignore the weird smell. I lasted about 3 hours in my office, the bookkeeping staff counting money, putting it in little bundles, working up columns of figures, while all I could do was check my voicemail (too many messages to even think about) and watch CNN.
On the walk home, I made the mistake of cutting through Union Square... the people standing around, crying, reading newspapers, collecting socks and blankets in big cardboard boxes, drawing on butcher paper on the ground, passing flowers around. Too, too much.
I've offered my parents' house to my friends for the weekend, but I don't think I can go out there now, as uncomfortable as I am this close to the city, I don't think it's right to leave.
I have been carrying my camera with me at all times, but I haven't taken a single picture. Matty did, I think they are from Wednesday but I forget now. The first one was taken from the steps of our last apartment, last year.
Posted at 03:27 PM | Comments (0)
Tuesday, September 11, 2001
A friend in the UK from an IRC channel is calling my parents in Ireland for me right now because I can't get an international line. The internet is amazing, isn't it.