Tick Tock Goes The Clock

Carny

2008-06-02T17:21:00.002-04:00

A good fair took place in New Jersey this week, filled to the brim with whiskey and cigarette accented carnies, tanned and tobacco toothed....And me without my sketch pad.

For shame.

I'll always find some way to run off to the circus...If just for a few hours.

"I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel...'

2008-05-29T00:17:00.002-04:00

'...That's all, I don't even think of you that often."

-Leonard Cohen

There are a few downfalls to living in New York. There's nowhere to extend it. So things are consistently being built over...Or worse remaining and changing into something that isn't familiar at all...

Some weeks ago the influential(and ever important to Punk culture)location of the closed rock club CBGB's re-opened as a designer's store. Five hundred dollar jeans are being sold in a place where you could go as you were, see five bands for eight dollars (some bad, some good, some great), and get an eccentric learning experience from the bathrooms downstairs. I remember it well. I'm pleased I do.

Somehow five hundred dollar jeans just don't make the cut for me.

I'd rather be reading the grafitti.

And a few weeks later I headed off to Union Square in search of painting supplies at Utrecht. I was pleased with my find of painting but not with a few realizations.

The Lower East Side has been overrun by the NYU students (Some of the most loathed creatures...even by their own alumni)for years. In the past few, it's gotten worse. Recently they've knocked down a beautiful old church to hold all the little buggers. In fact, the place my dad lived...and then my mother lived with him...and where I later was conceived (Yes I will have a tour one day...It will be exceptionally dull for most!)which was just a run through Union Sq. to Andy Warhol's last studio, now is a dormitory for NYU students.

I was annoyed. Did they have to take over EVERYTHING?

As I thought about this I walked through Union Square and noticed something else. The artists all had yellow posters tagged to their carts...They were being forced out of Union Square! The city is attempting to force the artists out of Union Square. What is Union Square without the craft tables, artists,and the farmers market?

F**KING NYU STUDENTS!

Ugh.

A month or so later today I was wrapping ceramic sculptures in old newspapers at work when the pinkish brown color of the New York Observer caught my eye. About a week old, the black block letters on the back read "Life And Death At The Chelsea". I like reading about the Chelsea Hotel. I'll even swing by their oft pretentious blog to read information. I disagree fully with their claim of being "The Last Outpost Of Bohemia" but I liked their interest of their own history and the preservation of the artists residing at the Chelsea today. Well, I thought they cared about the preservation of the artists.

However they too have succumbed to the "GREATER THINGS IN MONEY...I mean life. Life yes, not money. All about life. Life that gets much more expensive...Whoo whoo!

Now for anyone who doesn't really know about the Chelsea Hotel, the building was erected in 1883 and opened in 1884 as an inexpensive apartment co-op. In 1905 it went backrupt and a few years after that it was purchased and reopened as a hotel. In 1946 it was bought by the Bard family who the hotel belonged to for many years and generations until last year when Stanley Bard the usually beloved 72 year old manager was ousted by the board of directors. Which explains a lot of the changes that have been taking place.

The Chelsea Hotel has been home to many artists of all different mediums. It would be entirely useless to try and list just a few so I'll send to a Wikipedia page instead. Even in the last few decades it's remained a home for artists. The pricing has gone way, way up (Decades ago you could exchange a good painting you'd done as rent) because of the idea that you're "sleeping with history"...And yes there are quite a few spirits still living at The Chelsea in the respective rooms. They have been seen AND heard...Often. But still it was a home for "interesting folk" in New York City...And a great selling point for tourists.

Now they've been evicting people to make way for a cleaner, cooler, much more fabulous Chelsea Hotel. In other words the same derivative Hotel that can make lots of lots of cash...They think.....in just a few years.

One of the artists who is being threatened with eviction (and the topic of the Observer article) is a retired musician Jann Paxton who is also terminally ill with cancer, as well as numerous other ailments. He's also broke and in debt as the rates for the Chelsea have swiftly gone through the roof in a very short time. If evicted he feels he'll die very soon in a welfare hotel or shelter.

Money is money, and it's important. New York is expensive. If it isn't about what's right, can it be about what is fair?

Or even intelligent?

Lose the artists, lose the reason that The Chelsea stands out in anyway. There are many old buildings in New York...That doesn't mean people will stay in them. Especially if they're like everything else.

Lose the artists, lose The Chelsea.

What makes the Chelsea ISN'T about everything that's gone happened in the past. You can go many many places in this beautiful world and be standing right on top of history. EVERYTHING is history. What makes the Chelsea is the possibility of who could be there now and what could happen. And that you could be in the middle of it.

A few weeks ago I was walking through Alphabet City and mulling over the idea that I wouldn't have been walking so freely twenty years ago...And that it wouldn't be as clean and lovely looking in it's own way.

And I felt a little sad. As though I'd cheated. Where was the alphabet city of twenty years ago.

...And then I tripped over a used condom and felt a little better.

Oh well.

But at least I still remember the bathrooms at CBGB's.

Quote

2008-02-29T13:19:00.002-05:00

Anthony Palumbo's Artist Statement (Art Students League Retrospective Brochure)

"I believe the essence of all visual expression begins its life through struggle of the sketch. Thoughts on my art melt into reflections on my life. They are inseparable. Without a connection to these supports, life is impossible. Painting is an obsession. Drawing is my anchor. I discovered early the power of visual imagery in reaching out to others. I am a private, stubborn man.

Three powerful influences as a child shaped my destiny as an artist. The Church, mysterious and threatening, fed my imagination to draw and act out expressive stories through early scribbles. Church art (not the great art one ties to the Renaissance but provincial, more primitive art) fired me up. Goya and the early German painter Grünewald intrigued me. These painters were spiritually inspiring with their magnetic, mystic convictions, raw storytelling emotions and techniques.

In addition, shocking pulp fiction of the late 1920s in southern Italy had great impact. Large garish posters on horse-drawn wagons loudly hawked books of scandals, love triangles, psychological aberrations: a gory mess not too different from flagellation and torturous effigies exhibited in our religious processions. I did not realize their lasting effect until I later faced the experiments of Surrealists like Magritte, de Chirico, Ernst. The drama of déjà vu hovers still. My grandfather's surreal workshop dwarfed me as I entered his world of building mammoth wine barrels resembling gigantic rib cages, with Lilliputian workers constructing or dismantling scattered ribs of wood waiting their turn for assembly. I found kinship with Piranesi's monumental vision. These unlocked floodgates to my imagination.

My family arrived in America in 1929 upon the heels of the Great Depression. I was nine. Though the situations were different, I related to emotions expressed in 1930s newspaper photographs, art and headlines shouting "bread lines," "uncertainty," "homelessness," "pending wars." These feelings spelled human struggle. If there ever was a time when life and art meshed, this was it. Reginald Marsh, Rico LeBrun, Thomas Hart Benton were heroes of power and social conscience. I, too, thought I could change the world with my art.

A devastating studio fire in the 1960s changed everything. I lost most of my drawings, paintings and sculpture. It was gut-wrenching. A new era opened up in 1968 when I began teaching at the League.

I am in constant flux. Each moment, thoughts change feelings, feelings change actions. Searching for one's identity never ends. How do you know yourself when daily bombardments of visual, verbal and tactical stimuli fill you, and it is the brush or charcoal which points the way to the creative process? Here, in experimenting -- the thrilling part of art -- is where discovery of one's self is possible.

I have struggled to develop my art, and it is most important to me that I share as mentor the awareness that "uniqueness lies in that area where the proverbial carrot dangles. Be aware of 'catching the carrot.' There the rut lies ready to trap the unaware."

An artist with a fermenting soul stands on fertile ground constantly vibrating with perpetual life at times bearing unpredictable fruit amongst weeds."

My teacher and mentor passed away last night. I am quietly devastated. Brilliant artist, beloved teacher, and a unique man.

Clue

2008-02-22T13:41:00.005-05:00

I was awoken this morning at about two by what I believe was a large crashing noise. Disoriented and still a bit paint smeared I immediately panicked when I saw my easel with painting (in progress) on the floor upside down. Wet canvas facing floor.

Aaccch!

I must mention there was a very sheepish (guilty perhaps?) looking Sheperd Mix looking over at me, ears as up and out as all get out...and tail thump, thump, thumping as if only she were saying "Remember how adorable I am? Please remember how adorable I am!"

I know.

Luckily oil paint after a bit just smudges (thank you layers!) and smears. Lifted it up...Picked a bit of fuzz off the painting (cursing appropriately after noticing a dent in the wall from the easel) and placed it and the easel back on it's place on the table...I then took much too much time trying to figure out what had happened. It was too odd, I must keep the crime scene open. I must interrogate the witness/suspect. What the heck did she do???

But the witness/suspect/yes absolutely the culprit was still adorable (and a bit nervous) so I patted her on the head and let her go.

I learn from my country. ;)

Just kidding.

On another note,

Please someone call a groundhog and ask them in detail "When is spring coming?"

The entire city is covered in snow...Help!

Have a good weekend :)

Monday, Monday, Model, Model.

2008-01-14T19:20:00.000-05:00

Wheee, I haven't written in a very long time. Wait, scratch that...I have written, I've just deleted them ten seconds after they were posted.

Tada!

Now I think I'm ready to slowly get my feet wet in blogging world. Turned twenty a few weeks ago...Yay, very happy to be out of one funny little hurdle! It's time to make a truly daffy little post. I spend most of my time in art classes. My hands are covered in charcoal consistently. When away from the canvas and model...I feel a little empty. So my first post back will be a daffy little post about what you can and do find in a room with twelve to twenty other students and one or two naked models.

First of all god bless the art studio. For the most part there's heat, and light, something or someone to sketch...and no poor innocent bystander having to realize you've been staring at them for the last twenty minutes....Sorry!!!

Second god bless the model. I know it's hard. You have to stay perfectly still for a period of time while nude in a room of people staring at you. I appreciate it.

However, for every good decent model there is a hideous counterpoint.

Some examples include: Cheese?, Big Stick, Wobbles, and Travis Bickle.

Now, Wobbles is quite self explanatory. They wobble. They wiggle. They move their heads. They jiggle! This model either has picked the wrong pose or just has no concept of what sitting still actually entails. Usually a Wobbler will ask if the pose is over and then every few minutes after that complain and pull faces.

And then they sigh. And then they break out of the pose to stretch...And sigh again.

All in all not so bad.

After Wobbles in "self explanatory" comes...No, not Big Stick. Big Stick is quite possibly not what you think Big Stick is. Do not assume the worst on Big Stick. "Big Stick" (Yes, can I type it enough?) is every male model's best friend (No, no, still not what it might appear), one of those old rods with a hook attached to open and close big giant windows. Close to around six feet tall...They won't put it down. It isn't just a stick that's held or leaned on...It's BIG STICK! Must grasp! Must stand in power pose with. Must not let go! Mine!

Giant Phallic Symbol of Doom!

Drawing the big stick isn't fun. It gets in the way and it's just a straight line...But try to get one away from a male (or the one time butch lesbian..who also fits into a category soon to be detailed)..be prepared for a fight. There will be no taking away of Big Stick. Only admiration.

Now "Big Stick" is up there on things that can drive you a bit mad in art class. As can really any accessory a model brings in. Such as a tennis racket, boxing gloves, or a sandwich (stop moving your face!!!).

As for the tennis racket and boxing gloves...Do you know you're naked? Why are you boxing naked? Why are you playing tennis naked?

Actually one er -- creative model took "Big Stick" and wrapped his t-shirt around the end. He slung it over his shoulder and became classic hobo chic.

Do you know you're hitchhiking naked?...Actually that might help...Carry on.

And now Cheese?, Cheese? is when nothing at all is going on in a model. Nothing. Empty, confused, maybe hungry...Aha! Cheese? is born. You can work with Cheese?...Cheese? more than anything else is just...cheese? Imagine a face head slightly cocked, mouth hung open...Eyes vacant...Cheese?

Fits, yes?

And last but certainly not least Travis Bickle! Now, if you've seen Taxi Driver this is probably entirely self explanatory...But no worries folks...No vigilante here...Just a bit nerve wracking and more aggravating than all the other three combined!...But of course!

Now even if you haven't seen Taxi Driver...Does this sound familiar?

"You talkin' to me? You talkin' to me?...Well I'm the only one here..."

This is the model that is often insecure and is paranoid of what the class thinks of him/her...Or doesn't understand that as the person with the charcoal you're allowed to sketch them. In fact you're supposed to be looking at them.

"You lookin' at me? You lookin' at me?..."

Sometimes they just want to be the one looking. Other times...I don't know.

Often the "Travis Bickle" will start an argument with anyone over anything in the class. A student, a monitor, another model...A chair. Seriously.

A Travis Bickle type will also often comment on your sketch of them...If it isn't how they'd like to see (or present) themselves...They will get annoyed. Very, very annoyed.

Yes this is by far the most hideous of the bunch.

BUT!!!! For every awful model there is there's always an incredibly decent one and even *gasp* the heavens parting "muse" we all want to be or have.

Now don't take this blog all too seriously. It's for good humour. But yes...it is all true. People are funny :)

Have a great week to all!

New York and the Cinema

2007-08-23T01:38:00.000-04:00

I'm a bit of a cinephile.

I always have been. Great nights as a little girl were spent at the video store first picking out a film (we had a great video store with a lot of bootlegs) and rushing the block home to eat and watch it.

I find it immensely comforting to immerse yourself in a great film and completely depressing to find yourself watching a terrible one. Truly gut wrenching depressing.

But my favorite type of cinema are always the ones that take place in New York. Not Los Angeles studio created New York...Actual visions of New York. It's home. And I think it has great life to it. I will watch a terrible movie for shots of "real" New York (I actually did a few nights ago with Factory Girl...Yeesh. And not entirely worth it.) So five minutes ago...

You have to be in a Godspell mood to watch Godspell. If you're not in a Godspell mood you will not really be able to sit still. You may even be cynical...God forbid. :)

Luckily (and with the help of youtube clips) I was. Sitting in front of the screen and not particularly paying attention my head lifted up. And there were the Twin Towers. Barely finished, young, and being danced on. There was no sense of doom or gloom. Just size. A slightly awkward but beautifully reflected pillar doubled and only slightly different from the other. I don't come from the generation of people disliking the towers' initial presence. I always thought they were very, very beautiful...And big. Very recently that area got another blow. The Deutsche Bank building which should have been taken down long ago resulted in the completely unnecessary deaths of more people...And who knows what other sort of damage. I never am down by the area (which I oddly refuse to call Ground Zero) unattended. And by unattended I mean in a group of three or more in a cab. We drive past and hopefully don't have to look for too long. It's still very big. But barren. I can only see the odds and ends of massive equipment meant for "cleaning up". So that they can build a big giant building and makes lots and lots of money. And that's preserving. To destroy more and build on top of it. We've won. Right?

The worst part is that I can't see sky from a cab. But as it turns a corner I can see tourists. Looking through a camera lens at the World Trade Center. Never without the camera lens. Why does it make it easier? And who the hell would want to show that to their friends?

George Bush says that it would be a very, very bad idea to pull out troops. In fact it would be a much better idea to put more in. A basically abandoned building gets to stay put and infest the community...In the end it results in innocent people's deaths. But people should be thrown into something just to be destroyed? No, of course it isn't just that but where is the balance? What's more important? And can anyone give a straight answer?

Help got severely stilled when it came to the Deutsche Building. Why? Because of the construction at "Ground Zero". Because it's so necessary. I hate it. I loved the area and now I hate it. And I don't hate it because of September 11th. And I don't hate it because it makes me feel vulnerable and sad. That's normal, that's healthy. I hate it because no one will let it be. The "tidying up". And then the building over. I hate it. Every second of it is under my skin. I find it so despicable I can barely find words.

I wish they'd plant a garden and make a park. I wish so hard and so often.

And I wish they'd stop digging. It's invasive.

I never like the photographs that are posted on every toll booth. The ultra American view. The Twin Towers stared up at from very, very low. The illustration shaded crudely. The doom and gloom. It's so awful.

Awhile ago I "inherited" my parents wedding photographs. One had a broken tag. It couldn't be hung. So it sat until a week ago when I picked it up and slid it onto a shelf. And then I noticed it. They fit in so well that I hadn't even thought twice. From the Barge Music barge was the skyline. It was June 15th 1986 and sitting at night only slightly lit up were the Twin Towers perfectly content and alive with the rest of the buildings. No doom or gloom.

I'd rather see that.

...Or people dancing on top of them.

Hope everyone's week goes well everywhere. :)

A Touch of Beat, Touche! Touche!

2007-07-15T19:55:00.000-04:00

Returning from the murky depths of caffeine and art supplies...and the realization of the loss of a really great coffee shop a few blocks away (No paying of the rent!), I felt Tick Tock could use a nice summer makeover. Music and art and everything in between. We'll see how it goes.

Enjoy!

Point big brother over there maybe?

2007-06-22T16:15:00.000-04:00

The new happiest place on earth.

Dick Cheney's mind.

Oh wait, no that's just the nauseating backwash.

Gotta love those cheap thrills.

So Cheney's in the news this week for being something I'd like to use a more derogatory word for than well, a hypocrite.

A big foul deceitful hypocrite....but a hypocrite.

Later on in the week he's been noted for being secretive.

Illusive, even.

But still mostly just a lying, evasive, foul (yes often foul) and disruptive old fart.

Disruptive?

Why?

Because I find it irritating to consistently spout "Now what?" whenever something else runs badly (or foul) in the white house. There's no shock value left, just disgust. NOW what? I want to be completely shocked by what goes on, instead I'm just left feeling interrupted.

Of course not just that, but first of all the news channels have become more and more pornographic. Whose interest are you trying to pique?? Just say what's going on. Don't try to grab some one's ears. It would be fantastic if more people on the news said what they're actual opinion was. But there is the truth that you can't. They can't. Get fired, make enemies, start a problem...Or a dozen.

So we're left with artful nodding, slight eyebrow raising, nervous chuckle, and sympathetic noise.

Now back to you.

I don't want Dick Cheney or his office to have any secrecy. Any privacy. Now of course that wouldn't work. But I loathe these people. I have no ability to trust whatever his office does...Or says. Does anyone really? Cheney could dish out his entire life story "...it was never easy for me. I was born a poor black child. I remember the days, sittin' on the porch with my family, singin' and dancin' down in..." and so forth.

He could be completely truthful, I wouldn't trust him for a second.

Nor, do we really have any reason to.

And Bush is just an empty despicable vessel who also happens to be a sadistic bastard.

We have all of this hideous reality television, let's just destroy every show that's on the networks and replace it with hidden cameras and recordings depicting EVERYTHING that goes on it the white house.

Then they'll be DVD sales with outtakes and bloopers...and no more f**king privacy for the Bush Administration.

And we wouldn't tell them we were taping them.

Okay, it's tapping. And no it wouldn't work.

BUT!

It would save the news channels from having to feel "ear catching".

And more people would pay attention if it were in the "reality show" mold.

Haha, now would that make the country a little less foul or a little more foul.

Linus if you're still out there waiting for the Great Pumpkin, I'll come out and sit with you and wait for November 2008.

I wonder who's going to be waiting longer?

Have a great weekend all!

Don't watch the news...just yet.

2007-06-12T23:54:00.001-04:00

After a night of semi-horrible painting (it happens) I turned on a Mario Cantone program in hopes of seriously chilling out. His sister was my much remembered Theatre teacher all through elementary school. She was pretty intense.

I always loved the school, I'm a big fan of old buildings in general and it's a beautiful big building...But it was a great school. When I was going there, there were a lot of other kids with parents who were writers or artists as well so it was a lot of fun.

My favorite part of the school was the fact that James Cagney attended it growing up...and was kicked out quite a few times while in attendance. My last year there was I think a centennial so they asked the graduating students what they thought we should do. I wanted a plaque dedicated to James Cagney.

It didn't happen. It might have by now, which would be very cool if it did. I hope they didn't spend it on something silly like better basketball hoops.

Huff! Just kidding. It was a great school though. And with a lot of interesting teachers. Some more determined to be interesting than others. Often a little mind boggling.

And in other news?

I hate watching the news lately. There's such a huge overfocus on people and things that are useless. I hate that the war is almost like an after thought.

It's very easy to say "Bush is an asshole."...And then do nothing. No voting, no protesting, no independent thought.

A whole lot of Paris Hilton this week though.

God, please no more Paris Hilton coverage. It's infuriating. WAR GOING ON NOW.

I feel very guilty though.

If I were catholic, I'd do penance.

First thoughts when the breaking news tagline "PARIS BACK TO JAIL" popped up...with the under note of a medical condition she needed fixin' for?

"Gonorrhea?"

But really, who wasn't!??!

Haha. Sorry about that Paris.

So can we draft certain people to Iraq? Just certain people, you know. Go on, think of a few names!

I've spent the last few weeks taking care (Okay fine, part time nanny...Nanny, yeesh.) of the two year old who shall remain nameless.

Conversations with PinkZilla:

"Can I bite you?"

"Well, no."

"Why!?"

...The only little kid I've never been able to communicate with. She makes me a little nervous to be honest.

So that's what's going on for the moment.

By the way, happy 1st birthday to my blog.

Cake, ice cream, and Paris Hilton footage for EVERYONE!

:)

The earliest class photo I could find. 1942. Very cool.

A non-strike

2007-05-28T20:43:00.000-04:00

I'm still in a vaguely anti-writing mood (Waiting on test results, so everything I've written recently has had very little focus...and a whole lot of nothing!)so I'm still spewing youtube videos.

And what's wrong with that??

After a nearly three hour march (singular, and for no particular purpose but I'll be happy to call it my "Memorial Day March") I came back feeling lighter, more humid, and even more confused than before.

I feel like I'm on the brink of some sort of change, I just have no idea what it is.

So for my second video of the writing drought, John Lennon and Bob Dylan in a cab from the documentary "Don't Look Back".

First thought,

Genius!

Second thought,

What were they on?

Hope for a fulfilling Memorial Day to everyone involved in the past or present, and to their families. It's awful what people are having to go through, and for what?

Well Mr. Bush?

No more writing!

2007-05-20T21:59:00.000-04:00

I can't type anymore. I think my mind is just spinning without enough boundary or focus. So...Music!

Francoise Hardy and Jacques Dutronc "Les Garcons"

I'm reading "My Name is Red" and "Down The Highway: Bob Dylan"...no writing. No writing. NO WRITING!!!!

Have a good week!!!!

You may ask yourself, HOW DID I GET HERE?

2007-05-12T02:52:00.000-04:00

I have been staying away from the news for a few weeks now. I'll make sure I have some knowledge of what's going on but, in all truth I'm just not...I don't know really. Awake? Around? I am interested, so that's not it.

I think I'm spending too much time with my generation again. I always feel like my IQ drops a few extra points after a couple of weeks. I am completely lacking in interesting conversations in the social environment.

It is dull.

I think it's time to take a very long train ride back to something intelligent.

I'm taking it to the suburbs tomorrow but eh, there are still people there over the age of 23.

That's good.

Hey pal feelin blue?

2007-04-22T17:02:00.000-04:00

Don't know what to do?

Watch this!

Because it happened again last night...or well didn't happen. All I was given were those extraordinary memories of Stephen Colbert last year.

Here's the only copy I could find of it on youtube. There's an interesting commentary that goes with it. Watch, remember, and look at Bush's face!

If you give a mouse a cookie....

2007-04-09T15:29:00.000-04:00

I was coming out of the grocery store a few days ago when my eyes trailed to a photo of Bush with the words IMPEACH under and above it. I was unable to resist glancing at it for a few more seconds (Can anyone resist those lovely words under that not so lovely face?)when an arch voice summoned me:

Miss, come over here please.

Of course came the speeches about Bush and the economy, the end of the world coming as soon as Bush's time was up. Well, the end of the world and the beginning of a new good one. Just a penniless, doomed one.

I listened and nodded while glancing along the table they'd set up against the chilly weather. Books and pamphlets all with titles like "Bush is Hitler", and "Satan's Children" with a picture of Cheney underneath it.

I don't like it. I think Bush and Cheney are incredibly evil and stupid. But what good does it do us to make comparisons like that? It's just the same as them. It makes us all look arrogant.

So I nodded and he held out a form asking for a monthly fee of $300 dollars to "rebuild my country". I then explained I was a student and he pulled out another form filled with cheap thrills of Bush in bad poses. This was a much cheaper form. This was my form. This was my duty. This was my new community. I was not alone.

I told him I was an on and off Crawfordslister.

And a democrat.

Then I told him not to worry.

He guffawed at me "Well, I am worried!"

And as I walked away pulling my hat a little lower I thought that I was too. Worried about everything I'd been worried about and worried that even though it was great people were getting involved I didn't like the extremes of it. Who did it and who does it help to compare Bush to Hitler? It's too simple to say, and too crude. What comes next? Killing off people to save them from a daft civilization? Because that's better? It isn't a good beginning. I didn't like it.

So does not signing up with the angry extremist with a cold red nose make me un-patriotic? Or a bad American? Would signing up make me a good American and very patriotic?

I don't know, but I don't like it...any of it.

The Muzz Chronicles

2007-03-31T19:56:00.000-04:00

I'm waiting on the world turning green.

And all those wonderful colors it will turn in an instant!

The trees had begun to bloom I noticed while walking Muzzy and contemplating very little. Just one of those dizzy brain days where a migraine is sneaking up behind you with a nasty little grin.

And all you can do is grimace and bare it.

Muzzy the brindled mongrel who attracted quite a lot of attention on a regular basis as she clucks and sings her way down the street...

"Why is she doing that?"

"She's happy and wants everyone included in that."

...And Muzzy the notorious flirt who loves and leaves onto her next crazed pooch admirer. Well this time Muzzy sought out a dog. A quiet, sweet, and shaved for the summer lab. Cluck, cluck, woo, woo, bark, bark...sniff ass, sniff ass.

Amidst the crazy spring love, of course came the reason for a walk. Marking one's territory profusely...And that's where the blogger, yours truly got a little messy.

Dropping down to pick up (As I'm such a premium New York dog owner)...also known as Muzzy's least favorite thing...

"How DARE you pick that up!!!! It's there for a reason! Cluck, cluck, woo, woo, woof, bark, moo!"

Muzzy slips out of her collar! And begins to frolic! Barking happily at other dogs who bark at her happily back...after a few seconds of complete panic I got hold of her and slipped her collar back on. And threw out her addition to the pavement. Not realizing that quite a lot of it had wound up on my hands and jeans. This made her very happy. So happy that people couldn't help but come up to us and say how adorable she was, how sweet, how happy!

Of course she's happy.

Thanks Muzz.

Well, we got home without being noticed by too many people as the new "poo poo platter".

And as for me, some people do rain dances to make the rain come.

I'll do a fertilizer dance to make the trees bloom.

So there's where one of my few Saturdays in the city went.

Have a great weekend!

Love,

Arabella

The Fool On The Hill

2007-03-28T15:43:00.000-04:00

I absolutely love this song and video and was struck with an immense need to post it.

An anthem for all who live in their own heads :)

You Push For Bush?

2007-03-26T15:29:00.000-04:00

Oh the trials of being part of the generation that never votes!

Well, at least some aren't too inclined.

For instance, no one my age to talk to about it. Of course it's so easy to just call Bush an idiot (it IS true) but no one has anything else to say. It just sounds remarkably intelligent and suave to their ears.

"Dude, Bush is like such an asswipe and an idiot."

Obvious...Yet not as detailed as I'd like to hear. Nor as intelligent.

Asswipe? Asswipe?!

C'mon.

The worst folks though (not just basic commenter's but really must be quite delusional) are the ones who kind of coo over Bush simply because it's the opposite of what others are doing. It's not rooting for the underdog...It's just someone trying to be viewed as having independent thought. It just isn't my cup of tea. I'm not saying people should follow all packs, I'm just saying it's a little off to do something opposite than everyone else JUST to appear original. Try something a little more creative. It may take time, you might not get acclaim for it. You might not be able to wear it on your tee shirt (OH HOW MY GENERATION WILL SUFFER!!!!) but you will be better off.

It's not original, it isn't as intelligent as one would like it to be, and it's more than a little silly.

People who are for Bush (I won't even start), you're in the dark. I don't know how you could possibly be in the dark. I don't know why you voted for him TWICE if you did...BUT that's your mindset. It would be great if you tried something else but hey, you might not want to.

So who am I voting for?

No idea.

I'm completely split.

"You mean we could have a woman OR a black man as president????" AWESOME!

Does that mean I think that either one is the best choice at the moment? No. I think Obama is extremely intelligent and charming (For crying out loud can we have a charming president again??) and Hilary is also extremely intelligent...And a woman.

If I don't vote for Hilary does that mean I'm a traitor to my sex?

I don't know. I don't know if I'll vote for her. I think she could screw up monumentally.

I think Edwards for the moment is a good bet for the country at this time. I don't know if I'll vote for him either.

And if Al Gore finally stops being a tease...

Then all bets are off!

I vote for Gore ;)

...I don't think he'll be running though.

Have a great Monday!

Go Forth To The Meadowlands!

2007-03-18T22:25:00.000-04:00

I went to Beatlefest (or known as The Fest For Beatle Fans???...Okay Apple is on a mission) on Saturday and of course have decided I'd prefer to live IN Beatlefest.

Yes, honestly.

I am never more in my element than sitting on the floor somewhere doing something or nothing and listening to a band play. It absolutely charges that up when someone is playing The Beatles. Probably the best fest I've been to. They had a killer group of people there including Bob Gruen, the original Quarry Men, Paul Saltzman, Mark Hudson, The Smithereens (because of their new album "Meet The Smithereens"...They did a great job, GO GET IT!) and a lot of other great guests. The Smithereens did an absolutely amazing performance. I was in one place for 10 hours which is incredibly strange for me but honestly I would want to live in Beatlefest, sounds terrible...BUT I would. It gets to be the most relaxed, happy, and fantastically cool time.

At the very end of the night I stood on the slowest line for Mark Hudson's autograph (he'll actually talk to you, it isn't a cafeteria line...grab your gruel and go go go!) something I never do (I never really find a need for autographs, who knows?) and am completely thrilled I did so.

My hair was up in the tell tale "you just didn't want to listen to me today did you?" bun and he commented that down it must have looked very beautiful, crazy, and wild and not to ever change it.

And when Mark Hudson tells you to do or not do something...You listen. :)

Now MEET THE SMITHEREENS!

Have a great week!!!!

Captain's Log ABCDEFG A.D.

2007-03-12T17:44:00.001-04:00

Spring! Winter has finally unglued itself.

A few days ago my friend and I compared notes on why winter hadn't left. I didn't really give her too much of a chance for her explanation as I quickly gave my two explanations...Hers would have been much too much realistic at this point.

"Well, it did come late this year..."

One: Winter is the rich spoiled party guest that arrived late. Got very drunk and danced on your tables topless (while no one wanted her to), cried hysterically over something and is now passed out in your bathroom refusing to leave...After vomiting on your shoes. Just because you came late doesn't mean the party didn't end!

Okay horrible analogy. Funny though when it was 14 degrees out.

Two: Mother Nature is going through a horrible breakup and can't deal. (Global Warning isn't helping her either) She's been eating Ben and Jerry's and watching Lifetime movies. Give her some time.

So, Winter is every one's Hilton sister from Hell, and Mother Nature needed some time.

Note to self: Get more sleep.

Spent today with Dad walking downtown. He has a lot of history there so we made good conversation...We usually do. I don't understand that whole "rebel against your parents" clause the youngsters create. I like my parents. I'm friends with my parents. Rebel against what?

My big form of "rebellion" was to stick a stud in my nose...Which I then decided I didn't like...It lasted all of a week! Otherwise it seemed silly. My father would just roll his eyes and my mother would have sworn she'd done it first.

Actually she probably would have done it already...But she needs to make sure we all know she did it first. Because she did. Okay. (Heehee)

It was a great day for clothing, babies, and dogs; we commented. Everything he pointed out had a story or someone famous attached to it. I was thrilled to see Screaming Mimi's had not become a trap for the dreaded "baditude". Still wonderful, and amazing. And on the way back I fell in love with a pink tweed hat on a vendor's stand. All in all a fantastic day. :)

As for the rest of the week: pray the weather stays beautiful, kiss the dog, get my freckles back, and on St. Patricks Day go to Beatlefest.

How do you say "Trekkie" in Liverpudlian?

Have a good day!!!!!!

I said my friend what do you mean?

2007-03-06T21:43:00.000-05:00

As I'm writing this I'm looking up at the autographed photo of Harry Nilsson standing in front of the Eiffel Tower that was given to my dad as a gift from his friend Dawn. Also a HarryHead. And an excellent rock journalist. I always found it interesting that the photo of Harry went right above my father's computer where he worked endlessly. Yes, I inherited a love. My father bought me my first Beatles album, and he put on Nilsson all the time.

I remember spinning round and round (yes this was my great high) while listening to music. I also remember breaking a few c.d. players that way. I think three actually. I had to quit spinning. And by the way, that was very hard to do.

People usually understand why you love The Beatles. They accept it. It's hard not to at least admire the music. When you tell someone you dig Harry Nilsson you usually get a "Huh?" or "Hey, that's the guy who got Lennon drunk! They were crazy!"

But there's always the golden moment that you wait hopefully for when someone responds to you with "Harry!!!" They're usually just as pleased that not only a. they're not alone in that love and b. someone else is listening to Harry. What I've noticed is every Harry Nilsson fan wants everyone else to know who Harry is. Listen to the music, just listen. You have to know his music, you maybe don't know him but you'll know a lot of the music.

I can't really find enough words to explain Harry Nilsson without saying "Brilliant!" and "Heartfelt" a lot. And that's just repetitive. The truth is it's very hard NOT to like Harry.

So as a true HarryHead I'm plugging:

Zip through YouTube and check this trailer at the bottom of the page out! It's for a documentary on Harry's life that has been popping up in film festivals around America. If there was ever a person or story in music that could mix the gritty, soft, joyful, sad, and altogether interesting soul...This is it.

So toast a Brandy Alexander and check him out :)

Love and Schmisses,

Arabella

Quotes To Make The Mind Boggle

2007-02-28T19:35:00.000-05:00

Left alone with my imagination (which face it, can get a little annoying given too much free reign), I've decided to type in some famous quotes where the ideas of the writer or speaker are fully intwined with the ideals of that person...or at least their famous personas. It's all in the mind you know...

"I love talking about nothing, it is the only thing I know anything about."
-Oscar Wilde

"I would rather watch somebody buy their underwear than read a book they wrote."
-Andy Warhol

"I believe in compulsory cannibalism. If people were forced to eat what they killed, there would be no more wars."
-Abby Hoffman

"The only difference between me and a madman is that I'm not mad."
-Salvador Dali

I love quotes, I love reading anything that goes on in anyone's head. It's upsetting and neurotic to think that what people say isn't exactly what they feel or think. Don't believe in the phrase "brutally honest", brutal is brutal. Brutal is awful. Honest is good.

My last quote?

A very fun one at that.

"Facts are the enemy of truth."
-Man Of La Mancha (Said by Don Quixote)

Wonderfully weird for the weird at heart, but also a predecessor to Steven Colbert's "Truthiness"? Ahh that kind of ruins it.

Steven Colbert as Don Quixote...Hmm

Re-TREAT!!

2007-02-27T12:37:00.000-05:00

I am officially in hiding.

If I can retreat to the bedroom (which I've decorated in festive string lights and a glitter lamp...I need something to stare aimlessly at!) and get back to artwork that I love, I'll be okay.

If I can hide from the wrath of my mother and the gnawing self importance of my stepfather, I'll be happy.

And If I can teach Trey to use a phone so I can keep in touch with him, I'll feel a whole lot less guilty. Ugh.

I'm also retreating from a good deal of my generation who according to msnbc.com has been labelled as the "me" generation. It kind of is. There's a deep value of "insta-celebrity" and well, yourself. Not the actual you, but the you that's created in your head or you'd hope to be.

There's also been a lot of competition lately, and I don't like competition. The most (scarily enough) coming from my mother who has decided that anything that I can do she can do better or anything not so charming about her is not so charming about me.

I've noticed the only way to ask her for help is to flatter her endlessly until she seems fluffed enough and then ask her. Then flatter her more in case it blows up.

It isn't brown nosing, I don't do brown nosing...It's the closest thing to a human sacrifice they have in New Jersey.

I love my mom, I just can't...I don't know. It's too upsetting having your mother want you to be homely, dumb, and untalented. And forget wanting it, deciding it has to be. The truth is she's just repeating what her mother did to her. So where does that leave me? Will I do it to my unknown, unborn, and un-conceived child? If so, time to bang my head for an indefinite period of time!

So I'm hiding, and I'm not a recluse. I'm just not in touch with certain people.

And how are you? ;)

Happy Tuesday :)

Love,

Arabella

When my eyes beheld an eerie sight

2007-02-21T14:47:00.000-05:00

Not so pleasant sights of the week:

1.Anna Nicole Smith's clown video.

I still haven't quite gotten over that one.

2. Scary altered 65 year old trio of collagen abuse that confronted me and Muzzy on the street and then proceeded to ask me how old she was (She looks a lot younger and acts it so people are often confused)I responded happily TEN and waited for the normal conversation about how energetic and friendly she was. I instead received a "She's a OOOOLLLLDDDD lady, she's going to be gone soon!!" Then they began to giggle. I wondered two things simultaneously: One, how could they speak with those lips. Two, She looks half her age and has had a lot less work done than you.

What is wrong with people? Seriously. Who says that??? It probably doesn't help that Cool Yule passed away yesterday morning. I did get to have a nice long talk with him on Monday night when I realized this was it. I don't understand how I'm a bit odd for quietly mourning a friend and good model for art, but others can mourn the loss of a shoe with great remorse. He's very important to me. I'm not just going to think of him as an object and replace him to fill a void. Seriously though, who wants to be accosted by something that looks like The Grinch with inflated lips in the first place? Much less be told something strange.

I know I don't.

3: The Victoria's Secret on Broadway. I just want to buy lingerie. I don't want to be sprayed with something smelly. I don't need to know what the Victoria's Secret motto is. I definitely don't need a clevage enhancing bra with superpowers and jingle bells and x-ray vision...In twelve different colors.

I left with a bag full of pretty panties, a sea faring pink dog....And a big headache...But was it a sexy headache? You bet!

And 4. Giuliani's running for president!!!! NOOO!

So the Scooter Libby trial progresses, England has pulled out of the Iraq war (GOOD!C'mon America! Your turn!), and I really dislike Heather Mills. She's crazy!

Hooray for The Beatles!

Hey, How did this happen?

2007-02-18T22:41:00.000-05:00

I can't imagine how or why but I'm very pleased to see it.

I was also pleased that the so called battered video of Snoopy Come Home was not battered at all. And I cried through most of it. I still am!

I think the weather's getting warmer, maybe it's false hope BUT I think it will :)

I came home to a livid Dad who explained to me that my fish Yule had passed away. Or at least he thought he had. Cool Yule the siamese fighting fish who had been rescued from a toilet seat a few years ago had become the insular observer staple in my room. My father handed me the net and I went into the room (of course crying) to pay my last respects. He explained I could get a new siamese fish and I told him I never would. I would have to get a different fish if I did. However the idea of handling him with that stupid net that he hated seemed ridiculous.

I unplugged the tank and reached in when suddenly I felt something slap against my hand. Yule is not dead was not dead and did not particularly enjoy being thought of as dead. The best explanation being "What the fuck!?" and the second being "Fuck you!!!"

I never thought of him as polite anyway.

Ecstatic that my friend isn't dead, I had to explain that he mostly did sleep. I know he'll die eventually. He's outlived quite a few fish. The age that his breed usually die at is two. He's three and a half. He basically sleeps 14 hours a day, looks crabby and eats. He loves his medicine. He's a cranky old bat. Or fish. I love him so, so very much.

Happy Non-Death Day I suppose :)

So here's to an old fish and a movie that makes me cry...NIGHT!!!!!!!!

Love,

Arabella

Just because you wear a wallet near your heart, you think you're twice as smart. You know that isn't fair.

2007-02-17T22:53:00.000-05:00

I was horrified again today to realize that the quality of art in movies, of intelligence in movies had sunk just a bit lower again. It isn't all movies of course and to say so would be belligerent. It's only some. I could (and do) avoid it in so many other movies, they just aren't my taste. But it was the children's movies that I found difficult to swallow.

The children in those movies weren't children at all. Not any I've known.

Where had all the real children gone? And where were their real emotions?

Children as written in recent movies are bland and predictable. They will coo and "wahoo" their way through actions, they can be stupid and evil, and they don't usually understand anything under the surface. A giant THING must occur for them to react or be interested. They're cute. Whatever cute may be, they're it.

I have never met a completely idiotic child. Cruel yes. They do "wahoo" but happily, mostly for an adult's appreciation. They focus on and love something on a much smaller scale. If an adult raises that scale, their scale for what is interesting will of course raise as well. You can give a mouse a cookie, you can give a boy a gameboy...of course what will they want next?

The best real child in any movie in my opinion is Le Ballon Rouge. You have the mind of a child, as simple and raw and just as complicated as any adult...Possibly more. And you have an object in which love is projected. The boy barely speaks in the film but you understand everything he feels. You miss the feeling. That is a real child. That was a real child. I believe the director's son. Not an actor paid to go through motions you believe children will see themselves as or hope to be and adults will giggle over.

What is an intelligent child viewed as in movies or television? Precocious.

I dislike that word so much. It's an insult. An enormous and beautiful soul grows in every small child and they're viewed as precocious??

I still wander toward shop windows and look at balloons, and think just for an instant...Could I buy one? Would it follow me? Would I love it as much as anything that someone could possibly adore in the world?

A child could. They do. Children can act out the parts of the "wahoo's" and big screens but they'll always immerse themselves in Pascal. It isn't even a character at that point. Most adults feel horrible when they see the balloon crumple. And everyone wants to be carried away by hundreds of beautiful balloons that come searching for you at your need.

On the rage of pubescence (and a few years afterward) I turned to my dad on an outing and expressed my hope of never losing the uncanny ability to feel everything as deeply as you do as a child. That I wouldn't be afraid of it all coursing through me. He smiled and without turning to me said I wouldn't. I hope I didn't, and I hope I don't.

I also hope cinema gets a lot better. I think it might just do the opposite.

Please keep releasing the classics on DVD!

Speaking of classics. My father called me (possibly sensing my impending doom because of bad movies) and informed me King Of Hearts was on at nine...And he had dug about and found my battered copy of Snoopy Come Home which I had been sobbing over. I didn't woohoo. I did jump and thank him excitedly. Then I did the horrible bobble head dance I hope no one ever witnesses!

King Of Hearts was excellent. I loved it! And my complete adoration for Alan Bates only grows and grows and grows...

And grows.

Goodnight!

Quote

2007-02-07T19:48:00.000-05:00

"It's only with the heart that one can see clearly, what's essential is invisible to the eye."

New YorkiTude

2007-02-07T15:01:00.000-05:00

It is freezing out, actually the temperature is much higher than yesterday or the day before..

10 degrees! Winter has arrived and set up as the unwanted guest. Usually a relative, not someone you're particularly close to and quite often an instigator of arguments.

February in New York (February in general) is quite possibly one of the more boring months of the year. A few days ago the nasty winter blues had not completely set in. Everyone looked at each other incredulously and laughed about the drop in degrees.

Now everyone's just glaring and cursing under their breath. This is probably my least favorite time of year. A New Yorker becomes dangerously close to befitting the "arse" stereotype. I don't believe in the "New York 'Tude". I don't really believe in any nasty attitude at all. It's not nice, it doesn't help anyone's day and it doesn't really help the jerk who gave attitude in the first place.

I do however revert to it only under the most extreme circumstances. This usually includes various "interesting people" name dropping, dressing completely in black, and tut tutting anyone who doesn't know anything about anything which obviously is something that New Yorkers would know.

I am not proud of this, and it only happens once in a blue moon. I'm a turtle dipping it's head back into the shell unhappy with the surroundings. These are the set off parts of the conversations and how the evil 'tude pops up:

1: Your Parents are both artists, you must be uniquely f**ked up. Children should have good stable parents! New York is a horrible place to raise children! Poor, poor you.

2: New York isn't anything special, I've been to the Hard Rock Cafe loads of times! It's dirty in New York and people are deranged...BUT I am very hep and I am like so completely awesome. Did you know I've been to the ESPN ZONE?...I don't think you act like a New Yorker. Are you sure you were raised here.

(Ugh, more than once has this occurred)

And number three is the big one: A person (who is from anywhere else in the world) is being a huge jerk and snot to anyone who crosses their path. They are without a doubt the most fabulous person in the room and no one can top that. Go into character and watch them quiet down.

I don't do the lovely rolling of the eyes and gnashing of the teeth. My voice stays the same and I smile throughout the conversation as though nothing has changed. I don't push in the subway and I hold the door open. Oh and I do make eye contact with people...That's something else I heard. Supposedly no one makes eye contact?

Pray for an early spring as the New Yorkers are getting cranky. With or without their coffee.

Have a good week!

New Jersey Nougat

2007-02-03T20:16:00.000-05:00

I'm out of Manhattan visiting my mother for a few days, and tonight is all about baby brother. Which means we've done a few crafts, he's learned about Buffalo Springfield and Keith Moon...He's had his hair styled this way and that.

He's explained to me Star Wars, and told me what Beatles tee shirt he'd like. Now he's up past his bedtime and watching me sort through photos my favorite being this one. It was a great hairstyle he wanted after I showed him CryBaby with Johnny Depp.

Mr. Cool my little rockabilly is waiting patiently for books to be read to him.

Have a great weekend to everyone about!

Love,

Arabella

Substitute

2007-02-02T13:19:00.000-05:00

It's a Keith Moon day. I don't know why but it is. It should be interesting :)

More information later :)

Love,

Arabella

Cold Kickin Fruity Goodness

2007-01-31T00:03:00.000-05:00

Having almost beaten the dreaded dinky cold down with the lovely power of fruit smoothies and soup, my mood is up and much better...And less clouded.

Thank goodness!

I got very lucky over the past few days and found quite a few good films to watch:

Little Miss Sunshine is great, Strangers with Candy is...Strangers with Candy heehee, and New York Doll was an excellent look into Arthur "Killer" Kane.

This was much better than my usual sick and bored and unable to read or sketch routine.

I then spent the rest of the evening teeheeing with my father on iTunes. We bonded over excellent 60's pop...and covered our ears at bad covers of excellent 60's pop.

He started the evening by showing me how he injected himself with the meds and showing me his very pointy needle (forgetting my giant fear of needles and possibly not noticing the look of woozy terror on my face) while making jokes at meds expense.

Meds were not totally put off by that.

And oh my god it just started snowing, giant big fat flurries floating about tantalizing my fish who looks just a bit worried...And it's sticking!

Finally it's the end of January and I get my snow...Otherwise winter's just a bit depressing don't you think?

I am so incredibly pleased.

Now, this is for a certain sir who told me that "Once you've seen one Charlie Chaplin movie, you've seen them all!"

Sir I feh you again :)

Feh!

Happy snowy Tuesday evening/Wednesday morning!

Ever Important Mondays

2007-01-29T14:30:00.000-05:00

It finally started to snow on the upper east side. A few flurries past midnight and I'm very pleased.

Since I'm such a lover of denim I found this interesting;

Levi's Jeans is on a suing rampage. Their back pocket design (which looks like the childlike drawings of a bird mainly seagulls) have been copied or emulated through many other companies. Apparently it's a trademarked design. Of course this is nothing new as everyone copies everything by accident or on purpose. Big bad Levi's has been able to intimidate many lesser brands into taking their copies off the racks. The company will not stop until all brands whose back pockets resemble the original Levi's design are taken off shelves and production (or re-production) is ceased.

I don't have an opinion, only am wondering if I have any knockoff seagulls flapping on my flap pockets...and if the Levi's police will come to take them and me away.

Quick! To the underground shelter!

In more political news, women (thanks to political speakers such as Pelosi or Clinton) are coming out of their pineapple up the rear, stiff edged and hard jawed political selves. In the past, women in politics (or planning a career in)were advised to play down their "softer, motherly sides" for a tougher and less emotional appearance. The idea being that a women who was a gentle caring person with a family would come off as a little too feeble minded for politics. Really all this just gave way to homophobic labeling of lesbian.

Was it so terrible to be something other than sterile and cold? Isn't it on the whole much easier to identify and feel comfortable with people because of their humanity?

However there is that minority of people with pineapple's up their rears.

So maybe it was all a play up to them.

Actually I think it's more of a majority.

Oops.

Well, it's Monday and I have the tell tale cold. I'm using that sinus stuffed woozy feeling to truly enjoy "What's New Pussycat?".

Peter O'Toole's so pretty.

I am so bored! Have a great Monday!!

Monday Blues

2007-01-22T12:53:00.000-05:00

Hmm, Monday.

I'm not the biggest fan of Mondays.

Let's see, January is almost over so of course winter is here at full speed (it got lost along the way...Either that or it took an extended vacation)and so mostly it's cold. I trudged out to New Jersey to visit my mom and teach my much younger brother to ice skate...As well as help pull other children off the sides of the wall in hysterics.

"Are you okay? Do you want to skate with us?"

"No. I can do it myself!"

"Okay, if you want to just holler."

2 minutes later...

"HELP ME!!!!!! I HATE THE ICE!!!! PLEASE!!!"

Brought my own skates, the giant cushioned ones that look much more intimidating than they are...Really, just stick out your hand and let them sniff and their tongues will lick you. A wonderful change from the leather/canvas blister twins that every little girl must wear as an ice skater....Dammit.

The dammit probably came from my grandmother who decided at some point I would either be a figure skater or a famous dancer. I didn't really want to, or have the feet for either but it was such a big deal for her...So it happened.

In interesting news,

There's a plan in the works to take out the middle man, otherwise known as middle school.

Which prompts the question: What is worse, middle or high school?

I vote middle. I disliked high school quite a bit but middle was just confusing...And people were a lot meaner in middle schoool then in high school.

Anyway the plan is to just extend schools to k-8. Which sounds fine.

But of course now this topic has brought me back to high school. In middle school I was sad. In high school I was in trouble. And not bad kid trouble. I never fought and I was so quiet people thought I was either mute or did not speak English.

I was in teacher trouble. Teachers swore I wasn't writing my own papers, or the books I was reading weren't recommended (I was told Slaughter House 5 was a grotesque novel), I wasn't allowed any art classes, and I've always read quickly but apparently I was lying about that as well. My favorite though was being sent to the social worker who asked me if I wanted to kill anyone in my school (Um, no never. Why?), if my mother had affairs with the neighbors (No.), and if I hated anyone of a different color or sexual orientation for that very reason(No, of course not).

Then he asked: "So why do you hate Jesus?" I didn't hate Jesus. I just didn't think I should have to write about him in public school. I also didn't think he was apparent in every single novel. Every essay or book report had to acknowledge Jesus. I didn't want to, so I didn't. But of course I got very passive aggressive and when a teacher would ask for a six page essay...I would hand in a 15 page one with teeny tiny print. I was a pain in the ass. So I'd get sent back down to the social worker. Who was a guidance counselor with a fancier title. But, at least in high school I had a better idea or who I was than in middle school.

I don't recommend starting any trouble in high school unless you're sure it's absolutely necessary.

So for a boring Monday rant...There you go.

So Hilary's in the running...And telling off Bush. Good.

Happy Monday :)

Where The Buffalo Roam

2007-01-13T21:38:00.000-05:00

For What It's Worth-Buffalo Springfield

Happy Saturday Night...when do we get to run the bush association out of office on a rail?

Peace :)

Foot By Foot, Inch By Inch

2007-01-13T16:18:00.000-05:00

Two teenage boys were returned home after being abducted. One had been missing for a week or so and the other for four years. They're in pretty good shape at the moment. I wish them the best lives and hope that they'll be alright. And that the man who abducted them is sent away. Or provided serious help. There isn't much information out and the moment about the two boys except that they've been returned quite happily to their families....good. A media circus would have been trauma upon trauma.

Hoping for the best for them.

I tripped my way over to a friends house who was home for the weekend from school...I literally tripped. A long line of ouch and prays that my shoes would stay on my feet until I got to her house from the subway. Bad shoe choice. Too big and sockless...eek!

We met up and after me pleading with her not to get the "dangerous and if badly done you will bleed internally" tongue piercing (out of boredom of course)we went to get lunch. On the way she informed me she had not taken her medication (yes seriously) and giggled. .

We wander into this fantastic looking restaurant, all wood and completely run by "just out of Ireland" waiters.Friend sits down across from me and begins the rant that basically forms our friendship...

Were those guys outside staring at me or you?

Was that man paying attention to you?

Is the waiter flirting with me or you?

What do you mean you weren't paying attention? If he's staring at you I'm going to be pissed...What the hell does everyone like about you anyway?

...Medication is an excellent creation.

I've always liked to observe more than be the center of anything so watching my friend can either be incredibly amusing...And great for art!..OR well...nauseating.

In other words she drives me bananas and I don't see her too often.

Throughout the meal she put on a fake Irish accent hoping to attract attention. It didn't work, she wanted to leave...and I was to get to work on cutting hair.

I colored and cut her mother's hair...one of the few great things of the day I love seeing her mother she's a wonderful person and I love cutting hair. Then her boyfriend's hair. Ahh the boyfriend. Who I think has a slight foot fetish. But an in the closet foot fetish. He's like those Republicans who swear how horrible homosexuality is (sigh) and are in fact well....Paging Mr. Foley!

He often announces how disgusting and weird feet are...but likes to stare at them in private and often asks to touch them. As I was cutting his hair he looked down and said....you know you have really nice feet, would you like a foot massage?

No thank you :)

So what have we learned? It will be about three months until we hang out again. I will call ahead and ask her if she is on lovely meds.

And I will get better flats.

Have a great weekend!

I'm in the mood for spring, simply because you're near me.

2007-01-08T17:34:00.000-05:00

...Well, you were.

Yesterday was an incredibly beautiful day. I'd gone to New Jersey to visit my mother and managed to drag her back into the city unaccompanied for a few hours.

Which were spent winding about Central Park.

Hello Alice,

Hello lovely children on Alice,

Hello crab apple teenagers moping about Alice,

GOODBYE crab apple teenagers....

Hello Hans.

No children have ever really climbed on Mr. Anderson or his duckling who gazes. I think I did a handful of times but he never held as much appeal as the "Alice Statue". It was always a grand triumph to climb to the top of Alice and whisper in her ear. Then climb on top of her head and watch the ducks in the pond. Hans Christian Anderson (as wonderful as the statue is to look at now) wasn't as recognizable as Alice and the Wonderlanders.

I only took a few pictures yesterday. Too busy trying to sort things out with my mother, too busy saying hello to children, too busy wondering if I wanted it to stay warm or I wanted snow.

Truthfully I'd like a warm snow with lot's of sunlight, a bit of dewy rain, flowers blooming everywhere, and a side of broccoli rabe...to stay.

But I'd rather not rush a good part of the year and let it go as it wants to.

Today was gas. Everything was all about gas. But was it a gas? No, but not worrysome either.

Phew!

As for politics?

Bush is still an idiot and Bloomberg is O-tay.

It's only Monday.

Hope anyone and everyone had a great weekend!

MuzzyCentric

2007-01-01T17:31:00.000-05:00

Well, New Years Eve did not need a part two or three...mostly from the lack of interest in going into it.

Their were a few good moments....and quite a few bad ones. All will be memorable in one way or another.

The main moment was as the ball dropped and 2006 turned to 2007 I wondered WHAT am I doing here?

It was a moment I would have rather spent with family. In fact in the beginning I wanted to spend it with family...but guilt inducing phone calls made me try to reconsider.

Today was spent in that lovely tired euphoria when I woke up and it actually hit me that today was the last day of eighteen...which had been a very good year. I spent the day muddling about with a very small camera about the size of an average thumb that had been a gift.

I was quite pleased to see that it worked and enjoyed the gritty quality of the photos. My model?

Muzzy of course. The camera has no flash so she was very much happy to oblige.

I'd much rather show photos of Muzzy the Moocher than talk about any politics or rants tonight :)

Have a great day all!!!

New Years Eve Part One

2006-12-31T15:47:00.000-05:00

Ugh. I've been slugging about all day with moments of pacing and lots of Bowie to listen to. I have the feeling this could be a three part blog throughout the night as it's already bothering me, yet the night hasn't begun.

My father is dealing badly with aches and pains, my mother has called twice as I'm sure her own New Years plans have fallen through and she's wondering where that daughter of hers might be. Still haven't returned her call as I'm working on the gall and ability to make my plans sound much worse than they are to make hers much better in comparison. They might be just that bad, but as the night hasn't begun yet I can't take that chance!

Off to friends party/birthday/my birthday (despite pleading for her to leave it for her own birthday celebration)tonight where I know very few people...Actually I think she doesn't either as her mother has taken over the party because like all of my friends "I need to be celebrated" parties...They fall apart before they've begun. I'm feeling a little lost, gone are my normal New Years Eves of walking about the city or during some years New Jersey and making short but interesting conversation with others doing the same. Now I'll be sitting in a room watching as my friend tries to ply me with liquor (I get drunk much too easily so I prefer cola, what's the point of being drunk off of a few sips to want to fall asleep after a few more?) so she can begin her appeal for a menage a trois with pompous boyfriend du jour or just act out her ever recurring idea that I am an unknown extension of her and she can do as she wants and place thoughts into my obviously vacant and vapid ditz mind.

Help me.

Haha, I have very few female friends my own age. Any females I do know that I don't believe have moments of utter derangement are a bit older (more than a bit) as the two or so I'm actually friendly with are known for having the more than occasional "brain fart" and suddenly believing I'm out for something in the male species and am going to take all of the attention (somehow...I have no idea how!)away!!!! It's all part of a master plan I had involved Hussein in and now that he is dead it has failed.

Speaking of which, why is he dead? He found a lovely way through this to martyr himself forever as THE terrorist icon. It's disturbing...And worthless. I found out at a Patti Smith concert on Friday that he'd actually been executed. Smith's words on the matter? There should not be any celebration on this.

It's absolutely true. This hasn't done any good for anyone and it probably will make it worse. BUT there must be a plan to look like someone's doing something right!???

I mean, next to watching reality television.

Well, it will either be interesting or very dramatic and shudder inducing (at least that's what I've been telling myself for a month and a half). I wish that my friend was not turning me into a centerpiece as well as entertainment. I also wish that she had not told me she was giving me my gift tonight rather than on Tuesday and that I had to read the card aloud to a room full of strangers.

It's all about performance, I feel used. I'm kidding. I do though. It's one thing to give someone a gift in an intimate you are my friend this is for you situation but to make the card a speech that I have to read and not her, it just seems weird. She also would like impromptu speeches about her and how she's affected everyone's lives.

I'm sure I'll be back to blogger during the night though in what state I don't know. However, now I'm off to CrawfordsList as I hear it's rocking tonight!

Gabba Gabba Hey :)

Have a great New Years Eve :)

Love,

Arabella

I don't believe in Nixon, I just believe in me.

2006-12-20T11:14:00.000-05:00

The FBI files on John Lennon have been released after a settlement. The settlement basically allows that more of the original information is visible. In the older documents large paragraphs were "blacked out"...maybe because their reasons for Lennon's investigation and attempted deportation had no real just cause?

Yeah.

It's very interesting to look over, like a Tiger Beat biography gone republican. For whatever John Lennon's problems in his personal life could be he was a great speaker and mind. Although he isn't alive for this lovely war his ideas connect more than before (if that is even possible). The allegations tend toward outrageous and were in fact proved very untrue.

John was very left wing but he did not join any groups that were of the "extreme" nature.

For anyone interested go take a peek at the articles here:

http://www.lennonfbifiles.com

Plus lots of other fun things to go take a peek at while you're at it.

News for me,

La Monster Migraine is preventing me from sketching. Argh. Muzzy the Mooch is bothered by me at the moment...and yet the world still spins.

Huh. :)

Merry Early Christmas! And since it's Christmas (and what have you done) and it's a Lennon enthusiastic blog (another blog over)...youtube is my friend.

War is Over if You Want it.

Good Afternoon!

2006-12-11T15:39:00.000-05:00

Ahh the holidays.

If there's ever been a possibility of happiness and hell wrapped with a bow, it's probably the holidays.

Unless you count the idea of someone assassinating Bush...Then we'd get Cheney.

So either the reason no one's attempted squat (No I am not for murder but come on it's Bush)is that Americans are intelligent enough to know we'll get Cheney.

...Or they're just bored and watching reality television again.

Heh.

What is worse? The puppet or the puppet master.

Last night I took place in a heated argument in which a few members had a bit too much wine, so part of it didn't necessarily make sense.

Some believe (I do not) that Bush is just an idiot. I believe he's a sociopath and an idiot and his actions are in fact quite evil and despicable.

There was a very rosy hue immediately after the elections, people were happy and a lot (including myself) very surprised. It was a great wonderful shock. Now the hue has worn off and mostly from what I've gathered "Independent Voters" really aren't expecting much from the democrats.

Understood.

There is something I don't agree with when it comes to "Independent Voters"...and yes I know that by referring to them as that makes it seem a little snide and sarcastic...honestly that's not what I think. I don't agree with the idea that there is no difference to the "Republican Party" and the "Democratic Party". There are many similarities and being a Republican or a Democrat does not make one right or wrong.

It's always just the people involved.

Truthfully, I'm very bigoted against Republicans.

I don't like or associate myself with any of their "ideals". I do very much believe in the rights of individuals one in particular being gay marriage. I think that with most democrats even if they don't agree with gay marriage they get that it's not their decision and they do not have the right to even attempt to say who can or cannot be married. Being gay has never been a choice, it isn't right to be bigoted against anyone black, white, muslim, chinese, hispanic, jewish, etc. Being a homosexual despite many beliefs that it is a choice is not. AT ALL. Well, wait. Let's see, you can make the choice to stay in the closet and be miserable and not feel whole. Otherwise it's all the exact same thing...for everyone. Get married, don't get married...whatever.

However, in my still farthead eighteen almost ninteen year old brain it is absolutely fair to be bigoted against Republicans.

I'm open to changing my mind on that if any Republican doesn't come off as a fool.

But c'mon, you voted for Bush...TWICE!??!?

Haha, Happy Monday!

Ghostest To The Mostest

2006-11-30T16:03:00.000-05:00

I have a brand new hostess or host, who presumably is a ghost.

Another nice quality to living in New York. Many strange things can occur...Often wonderful...Or as we in Muzzy's home put in "wunnerful".

Said ghost feels the need to run about and mess with all sorts of technological advances of mine.

At the moment, it has put my c.d. player on the fritz.

I think it is my friend's father. Anyone else ever have a ghost? Or two? Of family or stranger?

Ghosts are an interesting breed. My mother's house tends to move or steal jewelry and there's an elderly woman who often appears at night. My little brother has also seen a little boy and I'm pretty sure there's a little blond girl hanging about. Her house is way over one hundred years old so it isn't too surprising.

Other beings lurking around in the apartment? Mice. Very small, cute mice. The building has been overrun with them. Last night a piece of tin foil Muzzy had scrapped from the garbage began to move about on the floor. Hello Mouse!

I don't mind seeing a mouse run about every once in awhile...But please don't have little mousey babies and take over!

My vintage platform shoes went bust! in the middle of 55th and Lexington. Still no word from shoe repair man if they survived.

People are still acting like angry baboons over yet another Nintendo creation. It's a box that plays games...Badly.

Is it really all that important?

The president of Iran; Mahmoud Ahmadinejad has sent out a message to "noble Americans"...In it he states that he felt America detested Bush's policies (Quite a few at least) and basically we as Americans (noble Americans) had been fooled into believing and accepting Bush's ideas and changes to the Middle East. My question: Did we have a choice? Unless you were behind Bush to an insane point of love and devotion, no one really wanted war.

Sure, quite a lot of Americans have pushed the nasty little thoughts of what's been going on in the Middle East out of their pretty little heads...We all knew that. It still isn't really known what Ahmadinejad's intentions are with this letter. It is quite clear he wants people to stand up and discard Bush (No problem there did it 6 years ago.)but whether or not there's some grandiose plan involved or if this is just a plea still goes unsaid.

The letter was published as a open letter in English on the internet.

Well, it's Thursday. Tomorrow is the first of December...WOW! Where did all that time go!

Pink Elephants On Parade

2006-11-19T23:13:00.000-05:00

I am in the mood for something new. It's a normal occurrence for everyone in the world, we like a little change after awhile.
Where to go, what to do?
One, I'd like to start using oil paints again. I believe I mastered the sometimes illusive art of layering paint to look like something. Other than a splat.
Although I rather enjoy splats.

My friend called me today telling me what she wanted for her birthday...I told her I rarely asked what people wanted...she told me anyway.

"I want a baby ferret"

I felt my heart sink. My friend treated animals like accessories. They were there to make her look cooler or nicer or more interesting. She'd bought frogs on a whim and hadn't properly taken care of them, she went on a Siamese fish run and bought about eight; one who was later rescued from her toilet bowl and became the infamous Cool Yule. She believed in caging guinea pigs and rabbits, when her friends cat gave birth she immediately wanted one of the kittens..she would not wait and took one of the kittens home who was weak from being separated from her mother so soon. The kitten survived...became supposedly an angry beast (I'll find out for myself soon enough) and was given away to an upstairs neighbor. For awhile she wanted a parrot whom she planned on locking in her claustrophobic very dark room until she wanted to walk on the street with it. The bird had had it's wings clipped...grrr, terrible!...so she saw no problem.

Now the ferret. A wonderful animal, incredibly intelligent and curious. I explained they crawled everywhere and chewed through wires.

Her response:

"Uh, hello? Ever heard of cages?"

Okay you're going to leave the poor animal in a cage and I'm starting to lose it! I am going to actually throw red paint on you!(and I don't even like PETA!...they're a little nuts.)

"Okay so how about a chinchilla?"

I didn't really have a good answer for that. They need very expensive big homes was about all I could manage.

I love my friend. I think when it comes to a lot she's deranged. We are complete opposites when it comes to quite a bit...including animals.

Most animals tend to like me. They don't always like her. They sense danger! I have animals with pretty long lives. She calls them nasty names and they die..she's also only home every other weekend.

Please please don't let her get another pet. For pet's sake. Otherwise I will become SUPERBIRDIES! Protector of the furry, slimy, and often scaly!

Until then meet my friend.

The Grim Fureaper.

The Rolling Stones "Under My Thumb"

Have a great Sunday and Monday! I'll be back with less rants and more intellect!

Red

2006-11-14T18:36:00.000-05:00

There is nothing quite as thrilling as the perfect ribbon red.

Red in fact can be quite unpleasing to look at. It stems from garish to bitter. Red lipstick can be horrible or perfect. But the perfect red can have more value and effect than any other color in the world.

It also is intensely mood altering. Red is a feared color. A bad red screams harlot. An even worse red whispers death.

Then there is in my opinion the best red, ribbon red. The same color that has been used for the Aids ribbon. It is impossible not to recognize and the eye immediately trails onto it.

In Le Ballon Rouge, Pascal follows and is followed by his new friend a red balloon. Against the rainy backdrop of France the balloon pops. It does not pop in an angry way. There is nothing to the balloon that forces you to watch it, you do not want to turn away as the color bleeds into your memory. It's a happy red. Bright with only the lightest blue tinge to keep it cool.

Maybe I just have a thing for a good red. As a baby I liked to watch Maureen O'Hara in the middle of the night with my father. I liked the color of her hair.

Red,red,red,red,red!

A darker red makes even the daftest feel intellectual and "with it".

Whatever it may be. :)

Although it's a primary color it's "perfect" hue can be a pain to try and mix. One step off and you're 18 million shades and paces from where'd you like to be...or look.

It's also an alluding cosmetic. Red hair dye fades faster than any other color. Red lipstick is sexually alluring and daring again.

Red roses sell the most.

Red signifies many,many things.

The same red that people may signify with love is also signified with "seeing red".

Snow White's mother prayed for "a baby rosy as the blood" (in some versions she only has lips as red as a rose, or lips as red as blood...many variations)

Red,red,red,red,red,red,red!

It is the most tempermental of hues.

And most worth it when it's perfect :)

Night!

Bringing Troops Home

2006-11-13T15:57:00.000-05:00

Since the amazing overturn of Americans voting democrat the democratic leaders of the senate have vowed to use their obvious outnumbering to the repubican party to decrease the amount of troops fighting in Iraq. In other words they'll be pushing for reduction and bringing many soldiers back. As many republicans have believed in the past that more soldiers dying in Iraq was a much better plan, many are not thrilled.

Although Bush is doing a semi good job of pretending to be on board by stating he is open not only to "fresh ideas" but a "fresh look".

If I were Bush, I'd want a fresh look too.

As for the ideas, well god knows a puppet can't really come up with any new ideas in the first place.

Republican Senator John McCain has said that it is true the current situation is bad in Iraq but to decrease American soldiers would make the situation even more chaotic.

I'm not really a fan of John McCain, I think he is a kiss ass and a liar.

He also believes that any sort of signal to the Iraqi people that American soldiers were being sent back and that the army was smaller would basically erupt into America getting it's rear kicked to the curb by the Middle East.

Well, yes.

There would be a problem, but there already is a problem! There are quite a few actually. Why are we risking so many lives in this war that obviously has no end?

Let's go over some major American wars here:

World War One: Necessary. Horrible outcome for American soldiers but yes actually necessary.

World War Two: Necessary. Also bad outcomes for many, many people but a huge amount of patriotism from America towards their soldiers...unlike World War One.

Vietnam: Necessary? Not really. However, every single soldier that fought in that war I have the utmost respect for. War is a terrible thing. Some of the soldiers felt they were doing the right american thing others were drafted and didn't have a choice. The news coverage though during the war was incredible. The fact that Americans could watch their T.V. and see what was actually going on is such a weird thought when you think about this war now. You could see murder, and put faces to unimaginable acts. People in pain. People crying. It was stark reality in all of its shock.

Now this war, it isn't World War Three because who else is involved? Who else was ignorant enough to get involved? No one. We have a war that is even less necessary than Vietnam but we have very little honest coverage of the war itself. It's shocking how many people really don't care or have any knowledge of this war. As for injuries we're right up there with World War One again. Some of the worst injuries and damages to lives happened in that war. Many soldiers were homeless afterward. Brain damaged and mutilated. Many are from this war. In fact the amount of PTS disorder is shocking. Why are we ruining so many lives? For a war that is not necessary, or truthful, but with an outcome of so much damage to Americans?

It just does not make sense.

As for why Harry Nilsson is sitting on top of this blog. I'm in a Harry mood. Well, I'm usually in a Harry mood. So they'll be much Harry this week. Enjoy Harry!

Bye! Have a good day!

What's New Democrat? Woah,Woah

2006-11-08T19:29:00.000-05:00

Democrat, Democrat, You're so thrilling and I'm so willing to side with you

...and so are many others!

Whee!

It's always a thrilling experience to know not only might the republican reign of infinite stupidity and all in all head shaking moments might be over soon...oh and yes democrats could celebrate last night as the bastard child of St. patricks day, new years eve, and superbowl Sunday...drunken happy fools, a new start,and sitting in a bar watching television for the most recent updates.

I think we should call it St. Nears Bowl Day. Or tricksevebowl.

Well actually both of those stink so let's just go with the ever popular and VERY mature

"Nah Nah! Nah Nah Republicans! Nah Nah Nah!

In other news,

That town somewhere lost in the middle of new jersey somewhere that I often complain of has been complaining about something themselves. In fact, they have so much to say they've been protesting at town meetings.

They do not want a cell tower built near them for fear of it in the future causing cancer.

Understood.

Most of these women who are protesting the arrival of the cell tower go to the tanning salon weekly.

You know that cancer free UV rays box with all the pretty blue and white lights that burn?

Heh?

Completely forgetting the fact that there is a war going on.

"What war?"

"What do you mean what war...the war in Iraq"

"Oh that, right. I don't really pay attention to that"

I have this conversation at least 4-6 times a week.

With a different person each time. It's amazing how little so much of America cares about something until it's entering their own backyard.

CANCER!

There's been enough cancer in my family for me to have a slightly jaded view over all of it. Part of it I'm sure is just a sliver of glass masking a giant fear over it.

Isn't that how it is with everything people mask? A giant issue bandaged by something very flimsy and with a large pronouncement written over it.

But honestly at this point what doesn't give you cancer? There are the obvious things you probably shouldn't do. In truth you might as well just live as best you can.

But yelling at everyone to protest a cell tower while your baking in an oven of UV goodness?

What's wrong with you!?

You look like tree bark and you're a walking punchline! I don't want to listen to you! I want to go and protest something worthwhile. Hey, I'll even hang out with those crazy PETA people at that point.

It's one of those moments where you can just see them waking up and saying

"Hmm shop at Nordstrom or protest cancer causing machines? Get my nails done or protest cancer causing machines? Work on my tan or protest cancer causing machines? Oh I know! I'll go to the tanning salon and then buy a new outfit at Nordstrom so I can protest cancer causing machines...and then since that was so much work I'll get my nails done and since THAT was so much work..I'll get a few more bottles of Prozac. By the way did you know I hate my children and my husband?"

That was a reenactment.

It has occurred.

There is a reason I often run a muck before I go to New Jersey. Happy, happy thoughts.

Now just to make sure this is obvious. I do not have an issue with people from New Jersey in general. I do tend to be bigoted against republicans...I just wonder what's in the water sometimes.

Everywhere.

Love,

Arabella

Blogger Likes Birdies

2006-11-06T17:26:00.000-05:00

Finally! I can return to my beloved blog after quite an absence.

Blogger was acting quirky for quite some time on my computer...or it may have been the fact that my computer was acting quirky. Either way after a long bored and lost time I was pleased to see my original blog had not died as I thought it had.

It's been a very interesting although less than constructive break. Trey had his birthday party which I photographed...and my mother decided to crop all of my arsty angles and shading. The children were all in halloween costumes so it was a very thrilling circus wonka's factory experience...and my mother cropped them as we have that kind of relationship...I mashed her lipstick by accident, she crops my pictures...passive aggressive love and revenge :)

Halloween was excellent.

Still fuming over various politicians.

Muzzy is still a terrierist. Though a lovely sweet one.

Yule the fish has a new "high tech" tank.

New York is doing well, we've hit november so it's still very pretty.

And my stepfather and I bonded over Craig Crawford..hmm

Well night folks! Be back very very soon :)

KI YAH!

2006-10-14T19:10:00.000-04:00

"Huh?"

"Huh?" was the first thought that popped into my head on Wednesday. Laying on my back on the cool wood floor and staring up at the lighting fixture gloomily dark despite the sun dripping through the glass windows.

Perhaps, it was annoyed at its lack of use.

The second thought was "What the..." which occured after I caught sight of my very young brother Trey's face looking pleased with himself or myself...depending on how he thought this had happened.

My six and a half (soon to be seven) year old brother had somehow flipped me onto my back when I'd advanced on him. The last thought that occured before the necessary counter tickle attack (vicious eh?) was a simple "Ow."

I'm still completely confused as to what he did to flip me on my back...actually so is he. He believed I had done it on purpose.

I had egged him on in our normal goofy way "C'mon Mr. Freeze! (His nickname in karate...no idea why exactly)C'mon Mr. Tasty Freeze! (Our following nickname for him at home) And finally C'mon Karate Man!

I said karate man so I got karate man!

Two things to say on that:

Hurrah! Trey can protect himself...phew!

and....

Ow?

I've been on a tylenol sea for the past few days on and off (the pill not the blogger)that funny little man pulled a muscle or something in my back and nothing is stretching it out at the moment.

Poor Trey, he's not quite over it. Though kind of enjoying it as well. I mean how often do you get to flip your eleven year difference sister?

And not get in trouble! (Yes, it was my fault..and Yes. He does know better)

But! In other more interesting less back related news!!!

Former congressman Foley is STILL bringing republicans heads to shame...somehow?

It seems like such a played out used story. It will be a lifetime movie in less than a year.

Those crazy republicans. I'm sorry I am bigoted against republicans. I try very hard not to be, but it just gets down right impossible doesn't it? I can't imagine how anyone would want to associate themselves with this era of republicans.

Hooray! Un-treated alcoholics! In the closet everything! Hypocrites! Liars! Cheaters! Pumpkin Eaters!

I don't have a problem with pumpkin eaters.

I swear.

Oh and Mel Gibson is apologizing and not apologizing again. He's sick of apologizing. He still does love the sound of his own voice though.

Don't we all?

Yeeccccccch.

Night!

Less tylenol *the pill not the blogger :)* induced rants soon :)

I love this song :)

Rubber Sole Soul Sole Soul Sole

2006-10-08T13:01:00.000-04:00

I lost the heel of my cowboy boot last night.

Not the entire heel, just the rubber sole.

My father said as I lost my heel, I lost my footing.

Which is the absolute truth because I have no idea where I was last night.

Wait, strike that.

I do know, I just did not want to know.

Oh well, adieu old rubber sole.

Must go to shoe repair.

Rubber Sole meet Rubber Soul :)

And Still You're All Going To Be Doing Fine

2006-10-07T14:47:00.000-04:00

Fall has approached and come and seen and chilled and moreso...angered.

Why are people so god awful moody with a bit of a chill? I thrive on it!

Took the train in to get home from my mother's...not quite as lovely as the last. Possibly because of the moods that erupted from the people around me...or just not the right day.

Saturday people running into my city to see a show, or meet with friends, dance, or anything. It's great, fantastic even...but don't poop all over my party. I like the train ride, I like the chilly weather. I like my mittens that are made for children (ages 4-7...I have small hands eek!)...and we all know what it's like to be stared at. But sometimes I don't want to be focused on that much.

Especially by a few snarky girls. Actually I just was contemplated by the first group. The second group whom I passed while getting off the train and smiled at (in the hopefully least yech way) and later stood on a platform near for my connecting train inched towards me and glared and later heard what was clearly pointed in my direction a very dersive "Bitch.." and then the three broke out into giggles.

What the hell?

I looked at them for a moment and they glanced at me and then said let's move down to the next section.

This is not a Woody Allen moment. I do not have intense moment of paranoia. I'm usually zoned out into my own world so that the only thing that does wake me up from it IS something directly meant towards me.

Otherwise I'm just kind of not listening.

Yech, well people today were just plain weird in general. Granted, Penn Station...not too fun always.

Grand Central Station...Fun.

Penn...Ehh.

Dirty with big red light district signs.

Oooh! A big neon sign! Prostitution! Prostitution! Derelicte Delights!

Oh wait. It says shoe repair...huh?

The large crowds of bored cops doesn't help. They look so indifferent and deadly tired. I almost feel like running up yelling "I've got it! I've got a big bomb! Run from my big bomb!" Just for the chase.

Like you do with the dog who's been laying on your carpet boring holes into the back of your head.

Come on Muzzy, I'm a big squirrel! Chase me, chase me!!!!

I didn't though. They had guns...and in my knapsack that was supposedly carrying a bomb I had my damp knit hat, various dirty clothing, and vaseline.

Never leave home without my vaseline.

In fact, the only time I finally found someone in a good mood was in Starbucks. Desperate for coffee and my eager mood back I ran in for a chai latte.

But face it if you were around that much caffeine all day, wouldn't you be happy too?

Either that or quite paranoid and hearing angry women say bitch to you.

It's all the mind you know.

Well, I'm glad to be back home.

Happy Saturday!

I'm fixing a hole where the rain gets in and stops my mind from wandering...where it will go-o-o

2006-10-03T20:29:00.000-04:00

Not a hole but a wall. Actually about four. Strange abstract shapes are beginning to take place on my walls to cover old paint and coffee stains that somehow flew from their cups onto my walls sprinkling and dripping down like dirty brown raindrops.

As well as circles, cartoons, and letters...oh my!

Somehow still slightly sick and have caught a bug of some sort, but I needed some arty project of some sort or my mind was going to swallow me up whole.

(Despite some very slowly drawn drawings, and slightly lost piano playing)

However, I like my mind to wander. I think most people do. It's a very comforting thing being left to your own thoughts (if your thoughts are for the most part positive)

Mine usually are.

But of course in sick brain land your mind can go to very funny places. And very weird contemplations.

For one,

Basil (BAAH-ZIL) Is a very cool name.

For two,

Friends do date utter morons.

For three,

I could live off of canned black olives, broccoli rabe, and eggplant for the rest of my life.

(EEK!)

What could you live off of?

Really, what could you live off of?

Oh and cherries. Although I hear they make you sick if you eat too many.

To the joy of my father and uncle the new "Doctor Who" series is bringing back the beloved K-9...too bad I like the show now, yet another thing that slices friday nights into a mad dash for a cab...stopping only at a deli for something slightly inedible and running upstairs 5-10 minutes after the show has started...it's always 5-10 minutes after it's started...I'm always 5-10 minutes late...ugh...watch Doctor. Who!

Things I could never ever do: Kill someone, have a cubicle, eat meat again, leave new york city for too long, do math, be a republican, and wear ugg's.

I like ugg's. I just can't imagine spending that much money on something that looks and feels like a pair of slippers.

If it looks like slippers and feels like slippers and costs close to $200 dollars...you're crazy!

Well, it's been a long enough day although the sun began to set at about 5:50...yowch, haven't seen that for awhile :)

Happy Tuesday...and Happy Wednesday...and so on and so on and scooby dooby dooby.

Oh by the way this is my bug...isn't he a hip lil' sickener?

Rolling Stones Rock and Roll Circus Sympathy for The Devil :)

Friday

2006-09-29T11:20:00.000-04:00

Ending the week with a confused, angry, upset blog is not my favorite of things to do.

The blog has nothing to do with me but with the events of yesterday and the day before.

So, rest in peace Emily Keyes.

In other news, there was another shooting. A former student in western wisconsin shot his principal. They won't say much but if this is the end of the week that is very relieving.

The sad thing about any kind of school violence is how much I am not surprised. I'm not jaded over much in life but with teenagers very little surprises me. Depresses, but not surprises. I didn't grow up in a school system (middle school and high school especially) where school shooting was a regular or even feared occurence. If someone had a problem with you they stabbed you. Or cut you. Or beat the hell out of you and then cut you.

I managed to get through those years not getting cut. It's good to be quiet sometimes.

Suburbia has to worry about shootings. Urbania just has individual minor things that occur.

Well, I'm still sick of course. But have used time to keep up with artwork and work on halloween costume.

Happy friday!

Now, there are quite a few things that are mentioned frequenty in this blog.

Peanuts is one of them.

*SOB!*

:)

For That Mona Lisa Strangeness in Your Smile

2006-09-27T15:08:00.000-04:00

The Leonardo Da Vinci painting "Mona Lisa" has received its first scientific analysis in 50 years (the first being after it's vandalization in 1956)through high tech digital "disection" of the painting. The analysis showed that Da Vinci changed his mind about quite a few things during the creation of the portrait. Despite the fact that most of these "secrets" were painted over or "hidden" one major one was in plain sight.

The sitter (believed to be Lisa Gherardini, wife of a florentine silk merchant who had recently given birth to her third child) was originally painted wearing a large transparent robe made of gauze that was usually worn by women nursing or expecting. On the right side of the painting the fragment of the robe is noticeable although appears to be part of the background. Other details that were changed were the hair of the model (originally half pulled into a small bun and under a bonnet with a veil covering half of the models face...obvious to the flirting modesty of that time) and that considerable amounts of grime collected over the centuries had collected on the painted obscuring certain details (yech).

Another interesting detail is the most well known and used analogy that came out of the painting. The smile. Despite the serene quality that came to be the painting was originally a bit more tense. The hands of the sitter at some point were clenched as though she were about to rise from her seat. Another is how sturdy the actual painting is. Unlike most very old and some uncleaned paintings it is not at all delicate. (SUPER STRONG DIRT!)

The digital analysis also begins to show the techniques that Da Vinci used. He layered very thin layers of paint. The darker paint is shown to be heaviest around her eyes and mouth while other darker layers are comparitively much thinner.

They hope to discover more on the technique as they progress.

In my own news, I am sick...again lol. So I'm spending my time talking to my mooching and mooing dog Muzzy and blue siamese fighting fish Yule (Brenner).

The past few days have been beautiful and it is most definitely fall. My favorite holiday is coming in only a few short weeks. So, of course must put together some strange costume. Will do, will do. :)

Hope everyone around on blogger has a great day and a great week!

Have some Wainwright.

...such a great song :)

Ticket To Ride

2006-09-18T18:43:00.000-04:00

I like trains...a lot. I like riding them, I like to look at people who ride them. I mostly enjoy watching the entire world pass by from a box. A large box with comfortable pleather seats. Yes, I like the seats too. I like the sounds. I just like trains.

First of all they're a great place to think. There always seems that there is going to be a big conclusion at the end of a long train ride. Some un-asked question that mysteriously answers itself.

Taking the 10:15 ride out of Jersey to get back to the city was not how I planned my Monday. I like any kind of change of plan (unless it's hideous or involves giant robberies with guns and chicken sacrifices or malls..haha) so I was for it. My cell phone (my poor very un-used mostly turned off cellphone) however was not all for it and promptly told me in it's unwelcoming female voice..."Your balance has expired"...which really means "You ungrateful little dip! How dare you not use me every five minutes! How dare you forget to run to radioshack to buy a pre-paid card! Spending all your money on art supplies and music...turning me off when people want to call you...who said I ever wanted to be an emergency phone??? I could have been a contender! I could have been a contender! Maybe this train will crash and you'll be stranded without a connection...how would you like that????"

I'm sorry cell phone.

I'll try to use you more.

Now, although my cellphone was against the whole train ride, it still was a perfectly lovely train ride. I sat and looked out my window the entire time my knapsack filled with dirty clothes cradled on my lap. There's an eerie naivety to suburbia when you're not involved in it. Visting Jersey to see family for a few days becomes oppresive simply because of the strange attitude that lurks in the area. But sitting in this little box on wheels allows the entire world around you to appear just like a little electric train set. Everything looks richly painted and thought out...and completely fake. As each stop progressed the world outside my window changed from the quaint little houses and overgrown plants to the houses right under the tracks with sparse backyards and then to the giant factories with companies I'd never heard of. Finally it began to urbanize itself. The overgrown plants turned to concrete, the factories turned to deli's, and the quaint little houses turned to apartments.

The world was changing at a very rapid speed. Suddenly at the stop before mine I saw a janitor sweeping dry leaves off of a few stairs. A thought came to me, what if I were to just get off the train there. It was in the middle of seemingly nowhere. I could walk through the bushes and just walk. Or I could just talk to the janitor for awhile. There was no one else there. I didn't. I don't even know why I felt that way. I wanted to go home. I wasn't putting anything off. But at the same time I just wanted to walk. And walk, and walk.

Instead my tongue felt around in my mouth for the one wisdom tooth that had broken through. I only had one tooth of wisdom. I still wanted to leave the train.

My stop, walked off the train and unto another...and then onto the E where I got off at the wrong stop and could not transfer. Oops.

And walked the wrong way simply because I have no sense of direction :)

Then I walked the 40+ blocks through central park (which really doesn't count because it's pretty) back home passing the merry go round playing once upon a dream, and the squirrels who were all desperately trying to fatten up.

Weeks ago, I stared up at the trees beckoning them to turn orange purple and red and to fall to the ground crunched and mixed with the dirt. Now there they were on the ground crunched and smeared. I looked down confused..when exactly had this happened?

The world was changing at a very rapid speed.

Happy Monday :)

Here, take the beatles with you for the week

September 11th

2006-09-11T13:46:00.000-04:00

Five years ago (although it's strange to think that five years has passed) the world trade center was destroyed. Everyone still can remember where they were that day.

I was in New York at school. In Manhattan on the upper east side. Very far from the twin towers. I can remember the assembly that took place. Well, some of it. My first thoughts (shock, can tend to only let a mind focus on one thing if that)was that, that was the end of Windows On The World. A place my grandmother loved to frequent on birthdays. No more windows on the world. I had heard the word terrorist before but it hadn't sunk in. They believed it was terrorist attack and that if we had working cell phones we should call our parents.

I remember that only one tear fell down my cheek. Then I began to realize what was going on. My uncle and aunt lived very close to The Twin Towers. My uncle who is in a wheelchair and was a lawyer frequently walked by or was in the buildings. I can still remember my ears popping on the 57th floor in the elevator. I had no idea where my father was that day, my grandparents often visited my uncle at work downtown. My mother and stepfather and almost two year old brother also came into New York to walk around. I didn't have a father who was a fireman or a cop. Or a brother, or a sister, or even a mother who would have been involved directly. I didn't have hundreds of crying pre-teens in panic over the situation. We just sat. Some made jokes, it probably was shock. I didn't have a reason for why my body seemed to twist and shake in itself. The day went by quickly. We weren't allowed out of the school, I sat in the cafeteria and stood on line for hot lunch. I was a vegetarian I didn't eat the meat pattie. I just sat and ate baby carrots and contemplated my spork.

A spork is a very strange and un-productive tool.

At about 2:30 they planned on us to sleep at the school. I lived about five minutes away and saw no point in why I had to sleep at the school...but I was excited too. The concept that something had gone so awry that school would become a giant scary sleepover interested me. My father came at about 3:30 (my grandmother endlessly argued with him over this "How could you leave her there so long??.." and we walked out onto the street. It was completely silent. I've lived in new york my entire life. Not even at 5:00 a.m. was it completely silent. Something out of a perverse dream. A tumbleweed did not roll by. A lone plastic bag did.

We got home easily. I stared for hours at the footage of the attack. My uncle and aunt had been evacuated and there became the search for the man in the wheelchair who'd recently had a toe removed on his foot, and the tall skinny redhead that would surely be with him. I looked out the window on the 11th floor. Every light across the way was on and everyone was doing the exact same thing. Sitting, using the phone, crying, or shaking their head. I don't remember going to sleep that night. I think the world went back to a numb normal for me.

That was the state of my mind. My aunt and uncle were let go and went with my grandparents to their house. Later on, the story of what my uncle and aunt had seen and done came out.

She had seen the plane lunge at the building, she had seen it fall and she had immediately lost it. My uncle on the other hand has always been a different force. They had reached the ferry. People were screaming,pushing,and falling down unable to think. My uncle who idolizes strong characters from old films, who can characterize anyone without sympathy and who has MS where the only thing affected was his spine wheeled his chair and and firmly said "Forward!" pointing towards some unannounced form of safety. It was his great moment, and of course he didn't realize it. Only my grandmother did in the next few days.

About a month after 9/11 I began to feel very ill. I had become very sick and there didn't seem to be a direct reason why or how or even what to do. I was in school for 40 days and that was it. I spent the year out and in hospitals for pretty easy procedures. I didn't graduate with my 8th grade class, I can't even remember most of that year thanks to numerous quantities of a hideous painkiller. It probably was brought on one because of an issue with a girl about six months beforehand, who in truth was a hideous bully but also was clinically insane...she fit a bill. It also had to be brought on by whatever shock occured from September 11th.

I definitely had nowhere near the worst of the brunt. I didn't lose anyone. There are some people who swear they had it worse than others. My mother (despite my complete decision that she WAS in the city with her family and in great danger) was sitting comfortably in her New Jersey home with a friend at 9 something when she was told to turn on her T.V. She and her friend watched the buildings collapse only about five minutes after they happened. She believes of any of us she had it worse. She watched it live. I don't like when people talk that way. We all were in serious pain and shock.

I wasn't sure how to deal with September 11th this year. It's too long ago to be in that great disabling pain for me. It's too soon to be treated as something that only sort of happened and there's no school because of it. Maybe that will be my generation's children that think that way. It only sort of occured.

Truthfully, much worse has happened. My grandfather can still remember Pearl Harbor as though it were only a few days ago. Because of him, it isn't just something that sort of occured in my mind. America got to live in a bubble for a good long time. Then the bubble burst. People aren't necessarily bad or ignorant because they cover their ears and close their eyes instead of looking around and seeing what is going on. They might still be in shock.

More likely they're just are trying to pull the bubble back over them.

I hope you all have a good day :)

Love,

Arabella

If you're happy and you know it scream out loud! AEEEEIIIGGGH!

2006-09-04T20:39:00.000-04:00

Slightly old news.

The Scream (fantastic painting for all who surprisingly don't know of it) was recovered a few days ago since it's kidnapping along with Madonna (also by Munch) in 2004.

The recovery took exactly 2 years and nine days.

Pretty good actually.

The damage was much less than originally thought, and all are sentenced pretty severely.

In newer news and much sadder, Steve Irwin died today. The animal lover was killed instantly by a stingray attack. Many are shocked by what would appear to be such a freak incident considering his work with much larger and dangerous animals.

It was an incredibly dangerous hobby. I think that if you're doing something like that, you know that at some point you may die. It's a risk you have to be willing to take.

RIP Steve Irwin.

Happy Labor Day

Oh Bushie! You dun have to go through all that trouble for lil' ol' new orleans!

2006-08-30T13:15:00.000-04:00

Ah yes a bitter bush blog.

On tuesday Mr. Bush took full responsibility for the incredibly slow federal response to the devastation that overtook New Orleans. He spoke at a high school, carried wood in photographs, and told the natives that New Orleans needed its "soul" to be restored. Who better to tell the world about soul than George W. Bush?

George got soul, yes he do. George got soul...how about you??

He then was quoted as saying:

"I know you love New Orleans, and New Orleans needs you,'...'She needs people coming home. She needs people — she needs those saints to come marching back, is what she needs.”

I'm sorry but today I just felt something rise up my throat, and it's not soul....and it most certainly is not the saints marching.

Maybe I'm being a pessimist (for one of the few times of my life..eek!) but...ugh.

He also met privately with a few residents of New Orleans...but the white house will not disclose what their conversations were about....

I can't even make a blog out of this info. I can just sort of sit here with my mouth open having lost the ability to speak except for "gah, uh gah??"

Happy Wednesday!

Doctors Appt. tomorrow....EEK!

First Grade Democrat.

2006-08-27T18:25:00.000-04:00

I am writing this blog on behalf of my much younger brother Trey who loves attention.

And anything to do with a keyboard.

I am a painfully quiet person. Except on certain subjects. Our president, Mr. Bush is one of those subjects. While visiting my mother, stepfather, and of course Trey in new jersey last week we managed to get into an argument over the state of our country and other countries. Mostly in how things are perceived. I explained to my still 9/11 angry mother that she could not completely remark on people of the middle east in a derogatory manner, as every other country thought Americans were obese, stupid, and George Bush.

Trey immediately interjected with his high helium voice "Hey! He's our president!" Trey has reached the age where he MUST MUST MUST be included in every single conversation. I turned to him in the heat of the already heated conversation and said "Our president is a jerk." Now, Trey is without a doubt my buddy. He's depended on me to tell him the truth or take him on big boy rides and outings for about two years. Yes, I have told him Santa Claus is quite real. So is the tooth fairy. Yes, you can be a superhero when you grow up. He's seven in november, he can have the 7 year old truth's.

Yes Trey, it is ALL real. Except the boogeyman he's fake...don't worry about him.

Anyway, my mother immediately looked in shock. They live as one of about 4 democrat families in the entire town. Fearing her son would be ostracized she began the rant. Trey on the other hand seemed to be contemplating something very deep. His freckled nose scrunched, his eyebrows knitted and he let out a long "Hmmm". While my mother was telling me Trey would be beaten up by meaty republican worshipping omen children Trey suddenly interjected:

"The president is a jerk! A real real real jerk! He's mean and stupid and when we say the pledge of allegiance we shouldn't say it about him! He's wrong! He hurts people and he's wrong and ugly...."

This went on for about 3 minutes.

My mother, ready to strangle me I'm sure. (Trey is similar to me at that age in scrawniness, disliking any kind of violence, being very sensitive and similar delicacy...ugh) It's obvious WHERE Trey got his information from...My mother told him he couldn't think things like that. Trey now loud and angry told her it was the truth and that george washington said....

Trey quotes Washington (or something resembling it) often.

He then said he wished George Bush would just die.

Now it was bedtime and he marched up the stairs muttering endlessly. (Is it wrong that despite my wishing he hadn't hoped death on bush...I found this all endlessly endearing and funny?)

Laying in bed I told him that he WAS allowed to dislike bush, but it wasn't nice to hope someone would die. Then I explained karma.

Trey has taken that all in.

He is also now drawing pictures crossing out Bush and protesting on his front lawn, as well as explaining to people his views on the matter.

Some say it's whining. I believe it's much much more.

If you happen to be in the middle of new jersey and see an almost 7 year old standing on his lawn (probably wearing a shirt with a superhero or a skull on it) please ask him his views on America.

He has very much to say.

So I'll say goodbye in the words of Trey:

Hasta Da Bista (Hasta la vista), my bad, byyye byyyye and subway eat FRESH!

Trey watches a few too many commericials..

Lol night.

P.S. Trey is on the right in the blue hat

But Will You Love Me Tomorrow?

2006-08-26T23:28:00.000-04:00

The morning after pill will now be available without prescription to anyone over 18 at all pharmacies.

However you will be reprimanded endlessly by your pharmacist, elderly women, and even little children you dirty dirty girls!

...just kidding.

Though there is some good controversy over the availability...and it's not from politicians...or Tom Cruise!

Women themselves all have very different opinions on the matter. Some feel it's an excuse to be "forgetful", others a reason for men not to use condoms. However, of course many women are relieved that the morning after pill will be much more available.

The truth is, accidents happen. It's good that there is a quick thing to do to protect yourself. But rather than the idea it will "increase promiscuity" and unprotected sex I do wonder what the long term effects of it when used very often. Everything else seems to have an effect.

Well, yay for modern medicine. Keep using the condoms kids.

Happy saturday night! I am inside with a cruddy cold here is some youtubeination!

Barbaro and Other Stories

2006-08-21T15:04:00.000-04:00

Hey all!

According to recent reports Mr. Barbaro is doing just fine. He is wearing this fall's new fashion statement of a supportive sneaker, a neck brace, and his cast. He has a few blisters on his hip from antiseptics and sweating but otherwise his mood is excellent and he's been acting like a good normal horse. He's still receiving numerous gifts of apples and carrots and has even been sprinkled with holy water by well wishers. He hasn't needed any epidurals for weeks (yay!) and his sling hasn't been used either. His owners are incredibly caring of him and will spend as much money and care needed to help him.

I think he's going to make it.

In other news, my dog Muzzy has waged war on all those who keep her from mangos.

Hide your mangos.

She is a terrierorist!

Some Days It's Better To Go Natural

2006-08-19T20:09:00.000-04:00

Mr. Natural. It doesn't really mean it all means shit folks. At least I hope not.
More or less I just needed R.Crumb. That's right R. Crumb.

Last night I saw the completely amazing New York Dolls live and free in South Street Seaport. Right up in the front getting mashed into the metal fence...ow but completely worth it. New stuff is good. Old stuff is amazing. Made the mistake of taking my friend who had no idea who they were. (Was quite bratty over it but who cares!) David Johansen was wearing a teenage girls shirt...and I pretty sure her jeans. Not too sure if there was a sock involved in those jeans. Same great energy and a surprisingly really calm crowd who only took to throwing empty water bottles.

Yay! Can scratch that off the imaginary list!

Happy Saturday! Will be back on track tomorrow :)

The Tidbits of Information

2006-08-16T15:29:00.000-04:00

A few things to speak of:

In Britain, Private Harry Farr has been pardoned for not returning to the front line...during World War One. The soldier was executed at dawn on October 2, 1916 on the order of his officers. His descendents had been arguing for a pardon on the grounds that he was in shell shock. The government has later stated that it would seek Parliament's approval on pardoning the other 306 soldiers that were executed during World War One. Ninety years later.

I feel it's very important that this has and will occur. WW2 had so much propoganda, help from the rest of America, and overall respect for the soldiers whereas WW1 left the soldiers very much alone. Many young men died or were in fact "ruined". Many returned home to America to be forgotten and without shelter. They were a nasty reminder of what had happened. It is completely possible that Harry Farr and the other known 306 soldiers that were executed all were suffering from shell shock. Poison mustard gas, guns, and death surrounded them. It is impossible to believe that anyone could remain sane in those conditions.

The executions were about respect and duty. They wouldn't go back, they had failed.

It's still a crock of shit that ninety years later they would be pardoned. Many of these soldiers at their death were very young men just out of "teenagehood".

I don't know one person who has come back from THIS war anywhere the same. Or treated the same.

That's how it is with every war.

In other news, Michael Schiavo has been turned into political box office gold. Since the fiasco that involved Terri Schiavo's 15 year coma and death, he has been a "target" of the government (Oh aren't we all...kidding). The democrats have scooped up Schiavo as someone who is still angry at his own government intrusion. With all right he is still infuriated by the pressure that was put on the removal of his wife's feeding tube as that is how he felt she would have wanted it. Her parents adamantly refused and it started a very large battle. Where all the wonderful right wing christians came crying and screaming and holding glasses of water.

That's still pretty fresh in everyone's head it was not ninety years ago.

Well, good for the democrats. However it was still no one else's business. Religion and politics of course do not mix. (Unless your George Bush! Or Mel Gibson!)

To end off the blog on a sad note,Bruno Kirby died monday on complications related to leukemia. He was 57 years old. Despite the ideas of premature death...and what constitutes premature he was still young. Death comes as it comes. When it comes, a lifeline has run out. He will be very much missed.

Beat on the Brat

2006-08-14T00:25:00.000-04:00

It's amazing how vulnerable I can be at really stupid things.

How many times in the world do we meet what is easiest put as just a self conscience bitch?

Someone with such little faith in themselves they make those they view as a threat to them (in any which way) miserable?

My name is Arabella. And I have a problem.

I take this crap too seriously!

Felt good to admit it.

A few days ago I met up with a few friends (Namely my friend Skylar, and a guy I know)

With them came a girl I'd only talked to once on the phone and heard of...and her friend whom I'd only heard of.

Seemed like a really nice basic day and night.

I did notice I was getting sized up by girl who will remain nameless.

But cutting past the story because I'm still too bothered by it to go into detail...

The next night apparently she completely badmouthed my friend Skylar and I.

I was told by my very honest guy friend.

Now, the insults hurled (best word) were on the absolute transparent bitch side of the road.

I won't go into detail about what she said about my friend Skylar except for the fact she felt skylar couldnt sing...which is very much not so.

My insults were mostly of the why does everyone think she's so special and attractive variety?

There's no way to go into detail on that I feel and not sound pompous and stupid lol.

She also was quick to announce I had been flirting viciously with my guy friend to his girlfriend.

Which is the absolute covering of her tracks because it's obvious I wasn't...and she had a large crush.

The things that bother me about this are simple. We did nothing to her, I'd known her for 6 hours and stayed out of her way, and she acted sweet as sugar to us that night and completely serpented tongued us the next.

What I hate is I knew I felt something off about her and I tried to ignore it.

What I hate more is that this bothers me so much.

I would completely dig some super advice right now.

Because no matter what I do I cannot get it out of my head.

Night

Blah :(

It's a flavorful life!

2006-08-12T17:43:00.000-04:00

7 up is now made from about five flavors.

Five natural flavors.

I'm not quite sure how to take on the natural part.

It's like David Gest saying he's all natural.

You just can't believe it no matter what you do.

So where is this blog actually going to go?

To the competition!

Dr. Pepper now has a big ol' 23 on its label because IT has 23 flavors.

Imagine the people of dr. pepper sitting around and going "Five all natural flavors!!! Why we can't beat that!"

Oh ho ho, Dr. Pepperians but you can!

Why! Let's take all of our (not so) natural flavors and pop em on! Because the more flavors you got the more hep you are!

Yes these flavors are probably even less natural than 7-up's major five.

What I love is how much this reminds me of people I know...namely certain females.

In america the way to fight obesity seems to first start with utter denial and stay there for a few years.

(Actually that's the way we do a lot in america)

I love when no one actually works or exercises...

They walk around with a Jamba Juice.

Granted every once in awhile you'll find me with a jamba juice.

But more often you'll find me with a regular black coffee.

Jamba Juice makes you appear so very healthy.

Oh yes. Oh yes.

A similar idea (though I'm not sure of anyone with the mentality over 10 would do this) is to eat maraschino cherries by the bucketful with the serene conscience that they were cherries. And therefore quite healthy.

Yeah, eat two jars a day for a year and weigh yourself. See if anything changed.

Lol, denial denial denial.

It's not just a river in egypt, and it loves the fast food business.

So you can take your five flavors that are "natural" or your 23 that are vague.

Or you can drink water.

I still prefer coffee though.

Santie Claus, why? Why are you taking our democracy, why?

2006-08-11T11:38:00.000-04:00

I'm a sucker for Dr. Seuss references and anything that refers to Bush as having a brain a few sizes too small.

Although I'm pretty sure there isn't a brain at all.

Oh look I can rhyme!

It's a beautiful day out in the neighborhood. I hope everyone has the same beautiful day...for the rest of august and mid september.

Happy friday!

And the veterinarians all cheered in approval...

2006-08-09T14:54:00.000-04:00

Barbaro the race horse is recovering quite nicely.

:)

That's all I needed to hear.

He'll be available for interviews at Morning Martini's 6 month blog anniversary party getting smashed on all the free drinks.

Now that in all good faith he won't race again he'll be practicing how to be a charming drunk and make money by selling out in all the best ways possible

Week's half over! Happy wednesday afternoon!

What's up with that scheduled outage?

Didja happen to know what the sexy music does to those crazy teens?

2006-08-07T13:06:00.000-04:00

According to a new study "sexy music" of any genre triggers teen sex.

According to my calculations, so does everything else.

It's nothing new, and it's not necessarily true.

Wait.

Actually it's all true. Every last bit.

I listened to sexy music and I became a whore. I then listened to Dave Chapelle and became black and hated by comedy central. After that I listened to Stephen Colbert and became white...and FUNNY! But it didnt last long because I listened to some really depressed person, and i became depressed. Then I listened to Paris Hilton...and I became a whore again.

Then I listened to George W. and I became George W.

But don't worry I didn't kill myself.

Because I listened to my radiator. And in turn became a radiator.

Wait.

No, correction again.

I became a radiator BEFORE George W. Because listening to a radiator makes you much smarter than listening to George W.

By a very large amount.

And yes, paris hilton is better to listen to than george bush. But I'm not sure if she's better to listen to than the radiator. I'll have to fix that later on.

Now, this study is true in certain respects. But do they really believe that if you take away the "sexy music" there will be very little sex?

NO! Everything is hormones!

However, it's all different for all different people.

I am the most vacant easily obstructed coreless sheep in the entire world.

I have no personality of my own.

Now, I'm going to pop in some "sexy music" and become a whore again.

Because this weekend was lame.

And being a whore is awesome! Right Paris?

(thats hot)

Too punchy to write anything of great value, will be back on cue tomorrow.

Have a great week everyone!

freed from freedom

2006-08-04T13:03:00.000-04:00

A few years ago when dear ol' president bush decided that the way to bring America out of its quickly evolving "slump" was to re-name french fries and french toast freedom fries and freedom toast...every unimpressed american and/or french person was left to exclaim "wth?" or..."french fries are belgian and wait...where did french toast come from?"

The origins of french toast are not really well known.

However the brilliant idea of "freedom toast" comes from George W.'s pretty little head. Otherwise known as his ass.

Freedom toast and freedom fries have been quietly removed by congress.

I can't really hurrah over this considering something infinitely stupid that was started has been "corrected" (not the right word for this by the way) since something infinitely more stupid in the middle east is still going on and in all likelyhood will never be corrected.

Worth hurrahing over is that the heat wave will slowly be returning to something less than hell in an oven.

Hurrah!

Rest in peace Red!

2006-07-13T21:34:00.000-04:00

Rest in peace Red Buttons :)

"Red Buttons,the stand-up comedian who gained fame -- and an Academy Award -- as a character actor in numerous films and television shows, died Thursday in Los Angeles of vascular disease; he was 87. Born Aaron Chwatt in New York City, Buttons began his comedy career very young, performing on street corners before being discovered by burlesque theater owners, who made him the youngest comedian on the comedy circuit."

"Although Red Buttons is best known as a stand-up comic, he is also a successful songwriter, an Academy Award-winning actor (and has been nominated for two Golden Globe awards) and an accomplished singer. Born Aaron Chwatt in New York City's Lower East Side, Buttons (who got his name from a uniform he wore while working as a singing bellhop) started his show-business career singing on street corners as a child. At 16 he got a job as part of a comedy act playing the famed Catskills resort area in upstate New York (his partner was future actor Robert Alda). Buttons worked the burlesque circuit as a comic and even landed a role in a Broadway play, "Vicki", in 1942. He soon joined the U.S. Marine Corps, and in 1943 was picked for a role in Moss Hart's service play "Winged Victory" on Broadway, and soon afterwards journeyed to Hollywood to make the film version. After his discharge from the service he returned to Broadway, both in plays and as a comic with several big-band orchestras. He was successful enough that he got his own TV series, "The Red Buttons Show" (1952), on CBS. It lasted three years and won Buttons an Emmy for Best Comedian. He worked steadily for the next several years, and in 1957 got his big film break in the drama Sayonara (1957) with Marlon Brando, in which he played an American soldier stationed in Japan who struggled against the societal and racist pressures of both American and Japanese cultures because of his love for a Japanese woman. His performance garnered him an Academy Award, and more film roles followed. He was nominated for a Golden Globe for Harlow (1965/I) and again for They Shoot Horses, Don't They? (1969). He had a part in the TV series "The Double Life of Henry Phyfe" (1966) and has done pretty much every kind of TV show there is, from variety to comedy to soap operas. He gained further renown in the 1960s for his appearances on the "Dean Martin Celebrity Roast" where he performed his "Never Got a Dinner" act to great acclaim. He has played Las Vegas for years, has a star on Hollywood Boulevard (corner of Hollywood and Vine) and has appeared in numerous telethons and charitable events, for which he has been honored by such organizations as the Friars Club and the City of Hope Hospital."

Cheers with milk in a wine glass to you!

-both from IMDB.com

How to be a Comic Book Hero...en francais!

2006-07-07T17:38:00.000-04:00

Super Duper!

Serge Gainsbourg and Brigitte Bardot

Tom Kat and Baby makes Nee

2006-07-06T21:11:00.000-04:00

Dun dun dun!

Is there no Suri?

Apparently so.

Either that or something is ill with the child...which is absolutely horrible if so.

Or the baby's black. :)

Suuuuuri!?

Whereth areth youeth?

On the topic of celebrity babies...I've had it up to here *meaning over my 5'3" body*
with the non stop attention on shiloh the brangelina baby.

Poor first two. Do they have pillow lips?

Nope. I mean thats going to account for some serious sibling rivalry.

The uber baby vs. the adopted.

Do we really care this much? It's a baby...like all other babies a beautiful pure thing...that is being hosed over with shiny shit eating commentary and magazine covers.

We want our children raised as regular children...and please stop paying attention to us...unless you'd like to buy our magazine...where all the profits will go to a third world country *yay!!!*...that we will overpublish endlessly. *boo*

So for the end of this blog

G'luck little Suri (if you are Suri!!!)

G'luck little Shiloh

And definitely g'luck two other nameless kids because they've been out of the picture too long.

Pray for Shiloh to have a REALLY long awkward stage..lol just kidding

AND watch this! Because nothing beats outkast and nothing beats peanuts.

I felt like Charlie Brown as a kid...how about you?

DADA why are there cameras pointed all over MOMA?

2006-06-30T20:38:00.000-04:00

I love all of my new york city museums...how could one not?

Now, one of the best parts of new york city is...doing things for free.

Many embittered people don't realize that YES you can do very cool things in nyc on the cheap.

But there are many things you can do!

A great one I realized was the friday night free admission at the MOMA! It opens at 4:00...you wait on line in a parking lot and its completely fantastic.

And free!

Say it with me! F-R-E-E!

The DADA exhibit is on the sixth floor...and the main reason for this particular visit to the MOMA.

Now...for my rant.

People are allowed to bring cameras into the MOMA. (No flash, but little pay heed to that slight drawback)

I understand that it seems like a fantastic idea. And there are people that really understand and appreciate the art and come from very far...BUT most of the people with their digital cameras of all sorts were grouping around an absolutely beautiful painting.

Starry Night by Van Gogh

This painting is absolutely next to being brilliant and gorgeous a very well known pop icon.

Which is why it was getting particular attention.

I'm not sure how I feel about the use of cameras on brilliant pieces of art in the museum.

It, to me objectifies the painting...as though the whole point of "capturing" the painting was more of a "right of having been there"...as though over brunch the next week the person could click through the memory card on their camera showing their friends that yes...they had gone to the MOMA.

It almost feels stolen to me.

It's incredibly annoying to be in a group of people looking at a painting and arms tangle over and in front of your head with a digital camera gripped...and have them stay until they get the most even shot imaginable. It's also annoying to watch them push other people around to get their shot...or glare.

Hmm, lol

Of course I said nothing. What was there to say? Put away the camera asshole?

lol no, that wouldn't have been right. I thought it was rude and they didnt. Simple as that.

I was asked by a very sweet (and cute) italian guy to take his picture in front of a very different painting....Sure! I said. I then whispered to my grandmother I guess I'm feeding into the hypocrisy but what can I do?

The truth is the man was very sweet and had come from italy to see the museum.

The truth about my dislike of using cameras in the moma is mostly over the preservation of the moma.

If you'd like a poster, or even a postcard with the art...please PLEASE you can buy it from the gift shop.

Yes, it can get expensive but the money does benefit the museum as well as other good things.

If the museum isn't taken care of what will happen to it?

Of course, the MOMA is beautifully kept. But I still find it rude to take pictures of the art...no matter how earnestly in love with the painting you are...please try to be nice while you do it...or at least wait until there isnt a large group looking at it.

Or even better, buy it at the giftshop..

But! What can you do?

You're standing in front of history. And at the same time as much as you're enjoying it...you might be ruining it for others.

Oh by the way..go see the DADA exhibit..its fantastic!

Love,

Arabella

P.S. Funnily...NO ONE was using a digital camera on that exhibit...I wonder what that says....

Al Gore=Hitler Propoganda? Me Thinks...NOT.

2006-06-26T22:54:00.000-04:00

Okay thing that has been bugging me the last few days.

People are actually comparing Al Gore's movie to the hitler propoganda...

Are you kidding me?

Seriously. Ok Nazi Love Compared to Democratic Info.

Hmmm.

People trying to kill the jewish,black,homosexuals...and anyone else in their way....

OR

Movie about what is going on in the country..and the rest of the world

Hmm

Certain people are certainly morons.

Or understand something I don't.

Which is highly possible.

BUT these usually are the same people who voted for Bush and are in fact just a wee bit bigoted.

How many flicks does it take to get to the center of politic cinema?

The world may never know.

NIGHT!

Lose Me Too...Or I'm lost already.

2006-06-24T21:38:00.000-04:00

It's not really an easy way to live.

And there really is no certain way out.

And no certain way not to make trouble by getting out.

And it doesnt help that no one has any idea who they are.

Although they think they do.

I wish I were somewhere new.

Very, very, new.

And nice.

I don't know how to end the blog.

Bye :(

And In '44....

2006-06-14T15:18:00.000-04:00

Why I love Harry Nilsson...

Why I love 1941...

Why everyone should watch...

Tomorrow! Happy birthday to Muzzy and Harry.

Very strange my dog shares a birthday with Harry Nilsson.

Even stranger that it also is my parents old wedding anniversary..and my uncle and aunt's aniversary.

eek!

But I don't think I qualify for a six degrees of seperation because of that..boo hoo :(

Probably will write five other blogs today...bye for now :)

love,

arabella

Can I run and hide yet?

2006-06-13T00:41:00.000-04:00

A quick trip out of town.

Joy as I'm lifted up into the air spun around and upside down on a ride that should have the words ahhhh! before it

Calm and happy as a clam to come home to.....

Not so much fun.

It's been a long last week. Now that it's Monday I'm worried its going to be one of those long weeks. Okay now I am officially terrified of horror movies, dislike nasty ants, wish i knew somewhere to sit and hide in peace, am utterly lonesome..and feel bad because my muzzy's birthday is wednesday...and my guess is the cruddiness of everyone else's problems in this family will take a toll on her normal cheeriness.

I have to make it up to her very badly.

Big long walks and plays in central and carl shurz..here we come!

I wish I could trust my parents without it turning on me.

I wish I had a cloak to hide in..something for muzzy...something for yule...books to get lost in...and someone to talk to who won't be baffled.

:( ahh

love,

me

I'll pay the rent...but please dont make me watch the rent

2006-06-05T17:46:00.001-04:00

Ok, I spent about 5 months arguing with myself over seeing "RENT"..possibly more. Quite definitely more..but alas my math is, has, and will always be horrible.

Okay, I come from a side of a family that is totally devoted to musicals. My father's a playright, I've had opera coming out of my ears for years..as well as every other possible libretto that could be jammed into those 7ft tall bookshelves.

Rent has been known by me only as that song we were forced to sing in elementary school. Five hundred 25 thousand 600 ways for your ears to slowly melt off of you face and hang like a beautiful african tribal ritual.

Why couldnt we sing Joy To The World like all those other happily oblivious children who would drink wine with jeremiah the bullfrog?...hey its better for them than hanging out at neverland with michael jackson singing disney and thriller...right on?

The answer being....

We didn't have a pretty normally erractic drama "teacher"

We had Mario Cantone's sister.

Yes Ms. Cantone. Ms. Smoking, Hacking, Glaring, Dentured Cantone.

Who made many many helpless little children miserable lol.

But anyway back to RENT. This RENT we speak of. The original reason I thought maaaybe I will see RENT..This RENT lol

Why? Because friends and other friendettes chirped "you are so like a character from rent!"

Huh?

"Well you know I mean aren't you all artistic and shit?"

I hate the and shits lol

I think I need new friends lol. One's who don't pay attention to the characters from RENT.

So my friend skylar who wants to be a singer/actress/baker/ps model/csi agent...also wanted to go. So we made plans to go..and we didnt go...*phew* :)

Instead we ate cheap chinese and sat on her roof with a few other people in the cold.

So months and months later Rent appeared on DVD, VHS, OnDemand..and just basically in your face.

Hmm I think I'll rent RENT...no maybe not

Hmm I think I'll rent RENT...oops the TV isn't working again

Hmm I think I'll rent RENT...I think I'll go read something...

But then one day..today..as there is no day like today...Rent was rented.

2 hours and 17 minutes of my life were wasted except for the usual tidbits of information.

*Hey aren't these actors like 38 now?

*Mmm Taye Diggs.

*Why do they look so healthy?

*Thats a mighty fine looking loft you got there you broke, diseased, picked on youth of 38.

*Hey! That's not New York!

*Mmm Taye Diggs.

*Wow now that whole area is chic..ugh why!!!!

*Mimi has like half my wardrobe. Give me those boots Mimi!

*I hope they don't come up with a quiz "how to tell if you're a bohemian"...

*This is so fake.

*Hey being homeless, having HIV or AIDS, and being broke doesnt sound so bad! I could so do that, My skin would look awesome, I'd have tons of cool gadgets and clothes...and a loft! And perfect teeth and perfectly mussed hair!

The new title(s) of RENT...

"HIV" Tagline: The New And Improved You

"No Day Like Today"...To bleach your teeth

"Playing Po" Tagline: You don't need to be dirt poor to be broke

"Dancing on tables is fun"...because obviously isn't it!

"Junkie" Tagline: The New Spa Treatment

Lol ok mine are pretty lame but if ANYONE has any they'd like to share feel free!

Cheers!

P.S. Refrain from watching Rent UNLESS you are one of the following:
*From Suburbia
*An overweight 12-17 year old girl with a hard ass life...as she puts it.
*Christopher Columbus
*Someone trying to find a way to kill Christopher Columbus
*Already Dead (no time wasted folks!)
*Have the hots for someone in the cast...mmm taye diggs..although it didnt save me
*Want a quick way to becoming an "artist"
or H. All of the Above.

If you in fact chose H. Then you are a suburban overweight 12-17 year old girl with a hard ass life named Christopher Columbus who in fact wants to kill herself to stop making these bad movies although you're already dead and have the hots for one of the cast members while possibly talentless but really really really looking for a quick way to become an "artist".

If you do happen to be H. give me a call we'll have coffee...I'm very interested to see how your life is going H...maybe we could be friends :)

lol so there love,

arabella

And though your music lingers on, all of us are glad you're gone :)

2006-06-04T19:22:00.000-04:00

Roll on thunder, shine on lightning
The days are long and the nights are frightenin'
Nothing matters anyway,
And that's the hell of it.

Winter comes and the winds blew colder
While some grew wiser, you just grew older
And you never listened anyway,
And that's the hell of it.

Good for nothing, bad in bed
Nobody likes you and you're better off dead
Goodbye, we've all come to say goodbye (goodbye)
Goodbye (goodbye)
Born defeated, died in vain
Super-destructive, you were hooked on pain
Though your music lingers on
All of us are glad you're gone

If I could live my life half as worthlessly as you
I'm convinced that I'd wind up burning too.

Love yourself as you loved no other
Be no man's fool and be no man's brother
We're all born to die alone, you know, that's the hell of it.

Life's a game where they're bound to beat you
And time's a trick it can turn to cheat you
And we only waste it anyway,
And that's the hell of it.

Good for nothing, bad in bed
Nobody liked you and you're better off dead
Goodbye, we've all come to say goodbye (goodbye)
Goodbye (goodbye)
Born defeated, died in vain
Super-destructive, you were hooked on pain
And though your music lingers on
All of us are glad you're gone

-soon to post more...please play this at my funeral

love,

arabella