Archive for the ‘For Reals’ Category
That is Not a Compliment
Sunday, August 23rd, 2009
Over time, people have said things to me which they think are nice things to say, but are not. Perhaps these people suffer from a lack of perspective, or context, or vocabulary. In any event, they should know better. If they don’t, they should read this and any future posts about this topic (as I’m sure this will keep happening.)
Enjoy these initial examples. (Misery loves company.)
-”That was nice. Were you happy with that performance?” (after one of my band’s shows)
-”Your new hair looks a lot like Ashlee Simpson’s.” (That was today. The wound is still fresh.)
-”I’ve always preferred full-figured girls like you.”
-”That’s neat how you’re wearing that as a dress.”
-”Wow. That joke was, um, emotional. It kinda looked like you were gonna cry up there.”
-”I just love how your whole attitude toward life is, like, ‘I just don’t care.’ ”
*Also, anything preceded by “Don’t take this the wrong way, but…”
STOP saying things like this. They are not pleasant.
Just a friendly reminder from Miss Meaux, Manners Maven.
Say nicer things, please.
Tags: Ashlee Simpson, band, cry, dress, full-figured, hair, I care, I care a lot, I'm a Care Bear, it is a dress, laugh, not a shirt, shirt
Posted in Ex Life, For Reals, Life, People on the Train, Technique | No Comments »
If One Just One Person Did the Right Thing
Sunday, August 23rd, 2009
I remember my Mommy and Daddy telling me that it just takes one person to stand up for what is right to affect change. (I think I’ve explained why I still call them that somewhere in an earlier post. If not, lets chat and I’ll tell you why. I’ll get to avoid a little work. You’ll wish for that 15 minutes of your life back.MonetXLS)
Their idea was a little bit of hope, a lot of crap. Same crap as “You can do whatever you set your mind to.” (I still can’t manage to win MegaMillions and Lord knows I’ve set my mind to that.) It definitely takes more than one person to change a lot of situations, but there’s one situation in particular that may just prove their theory.
One of my favorite albums is Portishead’s “Roseland NYC Live.” Love it. Want to marry it. I named my kitty (r.i.p.) ”Madison Portishead.” (I almost added “Chromeo” to her name when she was like 12, but that’s a whole other story. One that I once told David Macklovitch from Chromeo, which elicted the most horrified face I’ve ever seen. Royally blew that Dave-1 encounter.)
Anyway, during the song “Roads,” someone decides to start clapping along. Said clapping was not really necessary…it rarely is. But, sometimes it can be a nice touch on a live recording, if done correctly. In this case, it’s a disaster from the get-go because that person decides to clap on the ONE. And the TWO,THREE AND FOUR. And people join in! Even if you don’t play music, you have to feel in your bones how wrong it all is. It would be laughable if it wasn’t a zit on an otherwise perfect album.
The concept of a “group mind” was promoted by Gabriel Tarde and Gustave Le Bon, French social psychologists. (Go learn something.) I doubt even they imagined something as bad as what these people did to “Roads.”
If just one person, maybe a soulful person or a former high school drum major, clapped on the correct beats, he or she could have maybe changed history. Also, then I wouldn’t be so annoyed whenever I get to that point in the record.
I know, it’s been over 10 years.You’d think I’d be immune to it by now. But are you immune to homelessness even though it’s been around for years? Are you immune to war just because it keeps happening? Well, this is essentially the same thing: an atrocity about which we should never forget.
END IMPROPER BODY PERCUSSION t-shirts coming soon!
ClapClapClapClap
[The offending clapping isn't as apparent in this video , but on the record, it's like knives between your toes. Don't let it stop you from buying it., though. After about 4.2 grillion listens, I can vouch for its shear beauty.]
Tags: ADD, bad clapping, Chromeo, clapping, Dave-1, I digress, I keep digressing, just one person, Madison Portishead, my dead cat, one, people with no rhythm, Portishead, rhythm has one "y", Roads, Roseland NYC Live, whining
Posted in For Reals, Geniuses, Technique | No Comments »
I know my drugs. Don’t ask me how.
Monday, July 6th, 2009
I woke up congested. The kind of congested that makes you unrecognizable. This is probably because I thought it would be brilliant to leave my windows open overnight instead of using A/C. This is a great idea in, say, Iowa. Stupid idea when you’re 100 feet from the WTC site and about 11 other construction sites.
All day, my gay wanted to shop for cologne, of all things. I couldn’t stop sneezing. Finally, I convinced him he had to try the cologne at C.O Bigelow, that way I could get some pills from the pharmacy in the back.
Backstory: My parents met when they worked as pharmacists in a hospital. I was raised in a prescription-only pharmacy they later opened. I learned to count with a pill-counter, my real-world first word was Actifed, and I would make sugar pills for fun after school. So, I kind of know drugs and know what I want in my drugs.
I asked the C.O. Bigelow pharmacist all about each of the decongestants. I figured since the place was a little fancy, a little old-timey, they might carry some things that other drugstores wouldn’t. Some discontinued strong stuff. I asked if they had the original version of Sudafed, and how many milligrams of pseudoephedrine was in the other allergy-relief pills they carried. I drop a couple other cool words like “contraindicated” and “post-nasal.”
I thought I sounded, at worst, annoying. At best, well- informed. However, I slowly started to realize he thought I was a methhead. He was asking all the classic “Ask a methhead” questions, like what my symptoms were, if I had identification, what state I lived in, etc.
I really wanted to bust balls and play along. Start scratching and picking at my hair. Asking where the batteries were. But, methheads are sad, and not “Sad Panda sad,” so the softie in me won and I didn’t make funnies about drug addicts…this time.
Being that I’m not the edgiest person on Earth, though, it was a little fun knowing this guy thought I was committing a crime. For 3-4 minutes, someone thought I was a badass. I’ll take my thrills where I can get ‘em.
Meth stuff aka Central Florida Stocking Stuffers
Tags: drugs, kids and drugs, labs, meth, meth labs, methheads, nose, pharmacy, pills, Sudafed
Posted in Bodily Functions, For Reals, Geniuses, Ha, Life | No Comments »
Big Monday Announcment
Monday, June 22nd, 2009
Jon and Kate…are…having a 9th baby! yeaaahhhhhh!!!!!!
Ok, that’s just my evil pipe dream.
What is true, and awesome, is the
PUNCH YOUR FACE OPEN MIC
Tuesday, June 23, starts at 7:30pm, but you’re free to wander in whenever!
@Brick NYC
22 Warren Street
(in Tribeca. Mere steps from either the Chambers or City Hall stops.)
It’s a celebration of laughter, The Llama, and the summer solstice.
Be there!
Tags: Comics, open mic, P.Y.F.O.M., Punch Your Face Open Mi, PYFOM
Posted in Comics, Events you need to attend, For Reals, Geniuses, Ha, You need to go to this | No Comments »
Just Let Me Sit on It
Wednesday, April 22nd, 2009
This morning, I just wanted a seat on the train. I had an almost Rosa Parks-like need to sit. I was just tired and wearing cute, uncomfortable shoes. Of course, though, there were no seats.
Well…no “official” seats. There was, however, an amazing lap. When I say “amazing,” I am NOT exaggerating. It was an enormous lap. I couldn’t stop staring at it. The guy was at least 7 feet tall and each of his thighs was twice the depth of the subway seat. He could seat 3 people on those things! I honestly could not stop staring at him. He was not sexy. He was not even attractive. He just looked really really comfortable.
When I got on the train, he looked at me for a second. He gave me the, “Hmm I have a seat and you don’t” nod that people do, and instantly fell asleep. At first, I thought, “Well, he’s big. Maybe those huge legs are a heavy burden on his hips, and they need a break.” As the ride went on, I could have burned holes into him with my eyes. I just kept getting more and more steamed. I mean, he’s asleep and not even using his lap! Maybe a little of it, for his bag. But there was like 75% of lap sitting there COMPLETELY UNUSED.
It was all I could do to not just sit there.
He was dead asleep. He wouldn’t have even felt it. But I resisted. Sitting on a stranger is probably immoral, if not illegal. So I stood there, staring angrily at him on the ride from Wall Street to Grand Central. Then during the walk all through Grand Central. And down 5 blocks of Lexington. It was like he was trying to rub his gigantic thighs in my face. (Ok, maybe not. That’s gross.) Regardless, I was so close to catching up to him and telling him that he should make his lap available if he’s going to take up 1.7subway seats.
But, I couldn’t keep up. My feet hurt from standing.
Tags: Bailout, big man, big man thiggs, Earth Day, feet, heels, lap, legs, sitting. sitting on strangers, sleeping big men, somali pirates, TARP, thighs
Posted in For Reals, People on the Train | 1 Comment »
Sign of genius life
Tuesday, April 14th, 2009
Who says there are no more geniuses in the world? I mean, I suppose Mark Zuckerberg and Kathy Griffin sort of count, but not until today was I sure that genius still lives.
Case in point – the guy that invented this:
http://www.instructables.com/id/The-Twittering-Office-Chair/
Yes. A chair that tweets your farts.
I, for one, do not fart and therefore will never need this. But I respect it, no, I REVERE it! Farts are funny, tweeting your farts is amazing. People that don’t agree can eat a D. I was raised with a healthy dose of fart humor. It was classy and country club appropriate, of course, but still pretty awesome for a kid. Then, somehow, for three years, I was forbidden to enter the comedic paradise of gas jokes. My now ex-boyfriend hated the word “fart,” said it was worse than any bad word in the world, and did not allow it to be uttered in his presence.
IN-SANE.
I am now free from that abuse, and able to talk about farts all I want. If I want to call my sweet dear old Daddy in Florida and tell him about this horrible stranger fart I walked into in a store, I can! He’ll probably tell me about a “silent but violent” one he ripped on the back 9. He’s old and crazy like that. He’ll probably build a Twittering Office Chair. An invention by geniuses…for geniuses.
Tags: awesome furniture, chair, fart, farts, gas, pfffft, silent but violent, sticks up butts, Twitter
Posted in Bodily Functions, For Reals, Geniuses, Ha | 1 Comment »
Things people at work say to me that make me wonder why I just don’t walk out on this job:
Thursday, April 9th, 2009
-Hey Mo. You’re “Tits McGee” in my phone. Is that ok?
-Do you know where we keep the printer paper?
-Can I finish your sandwich?
-Can I finish your hummus?
-Can I finish your milk?
-Are you done eating that?
-Where’s the toner?
-Can you fill out _________ form?
-Can you go to Albany?
Tags: Albany, cry, hummus, laugh, McGee, paper, recession, shut up, stop talking to me, toner, trap, weep, work
Posted in For Reals | No Comments »
My neighborhood name is a made-up word. I am better than you.
Tuesday, March 17th, 2009
This weekend, I realized I’ve found the ultimate bastion of pretention: the Whole Foods in Tribeca. (It’s the only one I can walk to from home.) Dads in head-to-toe Patagonia wearing their babies in Tumi baby slings. Moms trying to reign in the 2-year old on a Razor scooter, in French. The adopted Chinese girl in tow on one of those leash/stuffed-animal backpacks.
It’s Whole Foods. I expect a few noses in the air. I don’t expect to see a line at the $40/oz bulk sugar dispenser or a 3rd grader with dreads telling his dad to check the snacks for gluten. These are horrible, horrible people.
Unnhhh. I luhhhv flaxseed pudding.
Once in line, I get behind a crunchmistress whose purchases include a MotherEarth magazine, some farm raised sardines and yoga mat cleaner. For those who don’t know, Mother Earth magazine is literary granola. This month’s features include “Do Wind Turbines Really Kill Birds?” and “When and How to Plant Potatoes.” It is also a clear indicator that whatever the exact opposite of a Brazilian wax is, that’s the situation this woman had going on in her area.
She brought her own bag. Can’t hate on that. I do it too. The cashier says to her, “Oh, since you have your own bag, you are eligible for a 10 cent refund. Would you like to keep that or donate it to a food bank?”
The witch actually responds, “WHICH food bank?”
Honestly?!!! There’s an institution out there giving food to hungry people that you have a problem with, ForestCrotch?! That doesn’t deserve your dime, ForestCrotch?! I hate you and hope everything in your cart is poisonous.
Tags: 10 cents, asses, babies, dreads, expensive sugar, food, food banks, hairy, hating poor people, hunger, kids, kids on leashes, Whole Foods
Posted in For Reals | 1 Comment »
Rare Air
Tuesday, March 3rd, 2009
No one wakes up with breath like minty lilies. Morning breath smells bad. I think it’s a sign of normalcy. People shouldreally address the issue by the time they’ve boarded a train. Yet, every morning, I end up next to some person intent on melting my hair off with their fire-breathing. I look at the person, my nose stuffed in my scarf, and wonder what went wrong in his or her morning. The person clearly got dressed, probably bathed. I want to think that during all that morning stuff, the person stopped to brush their toofises. But, judging by the smell, this step was skipped, for probably the past 9 days.
OR, maybe he or she did use a toothbrush and paste, but stopped and
on the way into the office. Either way, it’s wrong and must be corrected. PREACH!
Tags: breath, death, poison, poop, salad, teeth, what died, what's that smell
Posted in For Reals | No Comments »
It’s cold
Tuesday, March 3rd, 2009
I handwashed all my bras last night. At least all the ones I usually wear. They were still drying this morning , which left me with the kind you only use in an emergency. They’re stretchy, not lined, and usually made of the same material as a t-shirt. A “Not-A-Bra” Bra as I like to call it.
The thing is, I wasn’t really considering the weather. Therefore, my “Not-A-Bra” Bra did NOTHING to prevent me from walking around looking completely anatomically correct. Nips for days. Not only that, the “Not-A-Bra” Bra doesn’t push things up or in or anything. I just sort of lays over them. Thus, their shape is completely discernible, no need for an imagination.
Got a few dirty looks from old ladies at Duane Reade. A mom turned her son away from me. A pal kindly pointed out that I should have come to work topless, as the look was essentially the same.
Look, I wish I’d put more thought into timing my laundry with the weather, but I don’t have the energy. Besides, it wasn’t like I was I was sporting camel toe. It was just a clear view of of my handfuls, and for that, I say, “You’re welcome bitches.”
Tags: boobies, handfuls, nips, promotion, raise, tatas
Posted in For Reals, Uncategorized | No Comments »