Monthly Archive for July, 2009

It’s raining. Right this second.

Published on July 27, 2009 in New York City, Pictures and Uncategorized.

I’m growing fond of the rain.  It’s like a little mischevious child who brings you such frustration but at the same time, your life is that much better for it.  I planned a big day at Brighton Beach yesterday.  It was supposed to be sunny all day so I had to take the opportunity.  After 40 minutes on the train from Penn Station, the skies were blue, and the Q was running express.  Yes, I’d be there any second.  An audible “All HELL NO” broke me from the 1957 photography book I was purusing.  And literally seconds before we pulled into the Brighton Beach stop, it began POURING rain.  People were really pissed, and over a 100 people got off at the platform not knowing what to do, and it was soon packed with the exodus of people fleeing the beach.  I just laughed.  And laughed.  Of course.  I love you rain.

I waited it out for about 20 minutes and eventually made it to the beach and spent several hours reading, swimming, and snapping photos under a gray sky by the grey ocean.  Is it GREY or GRAY?  I forget which I prefer.

I took some polaroids.  Lots of old people lounging about in speedos, doing exercises, “sun”bathing.  I bought my very first ice cream cone in NYC from a soft serve truck.  Got it with rainbow sprinkles.  It was perfect.  I loved Saturday.

 

I watched this little girl for awhile… I think she was using her magical powers to bring in the waves.

 

 

This guy wanted me to take his picture, but then said “You’re not America’s Most Wanted, are you?”

 
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Hunt for easily accessible and cheap coffee.

Published on July 21, 2009 in New York City and Review.

I learned a couple of things while trying to save money, use coupons, and feed my coffee addiction with said coupons.

Tim Horton’s “Latte” is sugar water with some cream and something that sort of tastes like coffee added into it. It’s disgusting.

McDonald’s “Iced Coffee” is literally a cup that is filled up with ice, then hot, weak, and dirty old coffee is poured onto it. And it is digusting.

Ordering coffee can be a big deal.  When I asked for a “Medium Latte,” the lady at Starbucks gave me a dirty look  followed by a biting correction of “Grande?” Okay, look, I feel bad enough ordering coffee here, please don’t make me say the stupid names on top of it. The latte is okay, but the stigma and my heart is not.

I am looking for a Dunkin’ Donuts coffee coupon to put the final nail in the coffin of cheap fast food coffee drinks, though I do see a lot of blonde girls drinking giant 20 oz iced coffees from there, so it makes me wonder.

I have other notable drink observations I would love to delve into later, like how everywhere you go in NYC there are fancy drink making machines of varying liquids and styles. And my musings of why McDonald’s is pushing their McCafe campaign SO hard. And how I think drinking out of straws is a yummy and sexy replacement to sucking on a cigarette. Stay tuned.

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NYC women’s fondness for poor, hopeless foreign children

Published on July 15, 2009 in Uncategorized.
we just want human affection

longing for a mother's touch

I’ve noticed a lot of seemingly single white females in New York City tugging around little Asian girls. It wouldn’t be a big deal or something to note except the women are all very similar in dress, demeanor, and handling of their daughters. I’m not one to judge someone’s intentions in forking over thousands of dollars in saving unwanted babies, but is there ever a point that you CAN judge it or any other humanitarian aid for children? Like for instance, today in a coffee shop, a woman came in with a man. They made a snide comment about the place, wondering why so and so had recommended it, then the woman said “You’ll see how beautiful it was there and why I didn’t want to be back in the city.” She opened her laptop and continued to show the man every single picture she took on her trip to Africa in some religious missionary rich thing I dunno. I ignored her at first as I typed away at some school stuff, but after awhile the way she was speaking about these kids, like they were some beautiful helpless dark creatures that complimented her milky white heavenly skin dying for a cause and an armful of babies, was a little hard to to close-off.

Towards the end I decided to transcribe what she was saying. Granted I’m not a secretary… so, like… it’s not verbatim… but there are no liberties… and tell me, am I wrong, or am I wrong?

My unedited notes:

LIstening to a woman talk about how poor African kids share jolly ranchers, like “IT’S JUST A JOLLY RANCHER” but at least the moral of the story is that they’re all so adorably helpless and poor that they share one jolly rancher among each other. She cried cause “it’s soooo moving! It’s incredible, their, sense of community,” and omgod, aren’t these black babies so beautiful. Oh but look at how blonde HER hair got!! it happened from being in the hot, african sun. She used the picture on her facebook, omgod and her friend commented on it and said “The kids must think you’re a movie star!!!” They’re HER kids… These kids have such a different … (pause for thoughtful reflectoin) there is so much that they don’t have. their life is so drastically different, but what they want is just like everyone else: “They want LOVE and AFFECTION.”

One little girl had ringworm on her head and lost her hair, and she was totally grossed out by it.

Man listening with abject interest:

Maybe, I can talk to, you know Bob at the company, and we can see about getting some money to them! LIke a donation or something!!

Blonde Lady:

TOTALLY! I can , you know, write up my very moving and life changing story.

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I guess I’m wrong.

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Things to do: Find my next good deed

Things to Make: donations

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The boy was looking at me!

Published on July 4, 2009 in New York City.

I heard those words coming out of a frail old man who was high-tailing it behind me.  He was hunkered over, tiny, crotchety, his face framed with thick black glasses, and in his hand, a loaf of bread.  After he uttered “The boy was looking at me…” a slew of incoherent words and sentences continued pouring out of him in a strange Irish or European accent.  Soon we were walking side by side, and as we came upon a bus stop he declared at a woman by the bench:

“The boy he wants to touch your leg you should stab him in the rectum… hole!”

The pause before “hole” was the only break in his stream of thought-turned words, an after flourish to his initial declaration as he darted into the middle of the road and continued his exclamatory rambling.

loaf of bread man

So naturally I wanted this photo and went to get my pictures developed at a place where no one speaks English after the lady at Rite Aid was really rude to me on the phone.  (I live in Washington Heights)

They didn’t have my pictures done after an hour so I had to wait while they were taking someone’s portrait.  At first, all I saw was a girl in white posing in the other room, and I thought, hmm I wonder what she’s getting her picture taken for.  I looked up at the walls at some of their examples of work, and there was a HUGE frame with multiple portaits of a pregnant young woman and her boyfriend/husband whatever kissing her pregnant, exposed belly, standing behind her holding her belly, and laying on the ground with her belly in his hands like a basketball.  I thought, that’s… interesting,  and nearly silmultaneously upon registering this portrait on the wall, I saw a man appear out of the corner of my eye and enter the photo session in progress.  That young woman in white, I realized, was extremely PREGNANT, with her huge bulging belly exposed ready for its close-up.  And for the next 15 minutes, the photographer and couple exhausted all possible positions/interactions to photograph a pregnant woman’s belly.

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June Polaroids

Published on July 2, 2009 in New York City and Pictures.

Night of MJ’s death. Outside Apollo Theatre.  Impromptu dance party broke out.  Counted three boomboxes.

Atlantic Avenue Artwalk. Lots of chairs, babies, old stuff, and an instance of black face (see above)


My apartment.

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It’s a beautiful day.

Published on July 1, 2009 in New York City and To Make.

mer11The best summer ever.

If you haven’t heard, it’s been raining in New York since I got here May 30th.   This morning, I woke up, and thought, “God, it’s hot,” in a lovingingly annoyed sort of way, like when you’re pissed you’re having your period but glad that you’re not pregnant.  The sun shone quite brightly into my bedroom window, and continued, gasp, all day today, and I actually pondered going to the visit a beach this weekend and wondered if I could start wearing shorts again without worrying about dirty looks or subway gropers.

Then it started pouring at 5PM.  Lovely.

But I can’t necessarily complain what with Austin in a horrible 100 degree heat wave and what with me with no  AC in a moderatate 70 degree, ideal, albeit wet, environment.

I set up my room kind a sort of  to start sewing.

make04

What’s that? You want to take a closer look at my super awesome 1980s Bernina sewing machine from the future?

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The past two days I have been wasting lots and lots of fabric trying to come up with a really nice razor back shirt pattern.   Turns out, it’s kind of hard. (I made 8 before coming up with a design I like that fit well)  Here’s an almost okay prototype for something I’ve been trying to make… this is more form fitted than I want it to be, and the sewing is wonky.

make01

I know what you’re saying, and you’re right, the neon green.  Shhhh.  I know. Shhh.  Trust me on this, ok? Or at least let me be until I come to my senses.

Over the past week I’ve been preparing things to send out to people in Texas.  Mostly, I’ve been making postcards out of pictures I’ve had developed in New York by spray adhesiving thick resume paper on the back of each picture so I can write a message and the picture will be sturdier going through the mail.  Luckily, no one is reading this blog and these letters will be a relative surprise to most.

The first round of messages are going out tomorrow.

make06

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Things to Make: Clothes clothes clothes

Things to Do: Clean Clean Clean

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