This HBO Tsunami movie is making wish I were in Thailand ... can't be right. Regardless, does anyone want to go to Thailand?

erased a massive post ctaloguing all the different things people call "crazy"

Maybe you're perfect. Find out today!

I can’t tell you which historical lunatic you are or measure out aspects of your personality on different colored meters (you know when that test kept asking if I liked adventure and I kept answering “strongly agree” – that’s probably how I came out so adventurous on the adventurous scale at the end!)but I have formulated this personality test for you:

Pick one:

1. A. Whole Milk B. Half and Half

2. A. Tea B. Coffee

3. A. Jim Jarmusch B. Martin Scorcese

4. A. Sexy B. Not sexy

5. A. Chicago B. New York


Did you get 1.A 2.B 3.B 4.A 5.B? If so, congratulations. Has anyone told you lately that you are one fantastic great-looking guy/girl?

Anything else, Sorry, you’re flawed.

I can probably make a few more of these today. I have nothing else to do at work. :)

Public Service Announcement

If we do it, afterwards, the next time we talk, be it moments later or on the phone hours or days later, please try not to use the phrase "you" or "we" "can..." as in "We can share a cab...." or "You can come to this party with me..."

I know you don't mean a thing by it. You feel awkward. You feel insecure. You think I feel awkward. You think I feel insecure. All these things at once. All these and you're right, or close enough, and people don't know the rules, there're no rules. I know. But I'm a hypersensitive person, a proud egotistical person, and if I'm having a less than stellar day and you say this "can" stuff, then in my head I'll go "Oh CAN I? You know what? Let's call the whole thing off. Don't do me any favors." And in real life I'll go "Ummm... I don't know. I , uh... it's uh... I don't know. Maybe it's... no..."

I'll get back to you, possible sex partners at large, when I know what you should do or say. (Well, I'd just love "Would you.... blah blah blah..." but you'll never remember that.) Again, I know you're just doing your best and you've got your pride too.

Part 2... this is more complicated...
If you're hot and single and you think I want you (You should be able to tell if I go "HEY!" every time I unexpectedly see you) would you please push me up against a wall when no one is around and just go for it? Sure, when it's over I might get a little girl-weird, but this is no reason not to do this wall-push thing. You think I haven't had to work out a little "that was just lust... fleeting... you can't hold on to it" before? I have. Don't ask me to move in with you. Just push me against the wall and pull on my collar, buttons, and just be hot. I'm only 26.

I'll recind this once I've thought it over a little better.

XO

Principles

It's rough. The constant stream of stimulus in the elevator, echoing my elective New York 1 morning-time constant stream of stimulus, just told me they've put up the first beam of The Freedom Tower today. Four guys-on-the-street on New York One felt like me that it's time, we all want something there.

I can't wait for a new enormous tower. The only thing is the name right? The miracle of living in the USA, is that unquestionably the USA will replace the twin towers and with an awe-ing new structure. Capitalism is about the consistent miracle. What we can do, build, is without limit; as long as we want it, there'll be MBAs to make it happen. The money is there. The labor is there. New York's unananimous desire will a tower make. This like the belief of the ancient Egyptians made pyramids.

It's just that we should call it The Capitalism tower. Or The Money Tower. I'm not saying I don't want it. I'm bummed that it won't be done til 2011. I just think we should get behind what we're getting behind in a precise way. Power Tower has a ring.

But it's all over for hating hypocrisy. I don't think there's a choice anymore. It's actually impossible not to ride the wave, be as one with the surrounding dominant culture, for me anyway. I talk about celebrities all day long. That's all we freaking talk about at work. All day long wondering if in their circumstances we'd behave like them (YES already -- presumably given anyone's circumstances, fact for fact, you'd be them!) Last month I couldn't stand it, but I submit. It's useless. I still won't make a myspace page. But everyone, I can't tell you why not. (PRIVACY. Isn't there something to privacy? <---- I blog this. Ha.) I mean, I want to have that principle, that I don't need to advertise myself, validate myself, be rich, live richly (is this Citibank?) but I do want all those things. I do like fancy hotels and I freaking love champagne. But you can't pick and choose can you? Can I like Top Model and be disgusted by Flavor of Love? I can, I do feel that way -- but the distinctions I'd place on each are irrelevant and not to be confused with a real guiding principle.

Yet there's things I won't do. But, I don't know... I'm losing my thought... it's like... what's the point? yeah, that's it.... no it's, Goddammit, if she didn't not wear underwear we'd have nothing to talk about. the girl's taking a fall that's all. Don't you feel dignified, wearing underwear and catching the bus? Dignity. Indignity. The Freedom Tower. You write it up. It all goes together.

The Queens Center Mall and I sprain my elbow again

The Queens Center Mall is a wonderful place to spend money. I went yesterday. The stores are virtually empty. I had a fantastic time.

On the way home I was happy, then I stepped into a plastic flimsy ring such as might hold together a stack of newspaper... so when you get both your feet in one of these and don't know it and then take another step, you fall down and only your hands will stop you from cracking open your head. I hurt myself. I thought I must have fucked up my wrist, but actually it was my elbow which swelled and then couldn't be moved. I drank some, swallowed a couple pills, regained the majority of mobility. I've learned (from a man in Wildfowers Bar and Grill named Amaretto... a couple months ago)that the way to know if you have an elbow fracture is if you're in excruciating pain all the time you've fractured it. This is now dull pain and I can now make a ponytail and put on a shirt... but not scratch the back of my neck, so I guess it's sprained.

2006 was tough on the elbows. I'll type something more interesting later maybe.

XO

Britney - thin but sad!

I'm not gonna type about Britney -- I just saw that phrase on this magazine that's sitting here at the reception desk. I think I'll probably type about: *old white men - don't like them * my relationship to songs *Astoria.

Starting with the songs though. When I've gone through a break up, have been wronged, feel in love, etc. etc. I wind up hearing about it in the songs I'm listening to, right? Everyone does. But isn't it a great day when you hear the song that you once thought was so achingly catharticly emblematic of what you felt and find yourself just enjoying it in a normal, "these sounds are agreeable" kind of way? I had that this morning with a Fiona Apple "you stupid stupid moron, I'm so so so so so much more brilliant than you" song today. (I feel priveleged and lucky to be a notch or two beneath Fiona for vengeance-like sentimentality. I don't particularly relate to her song about how she's going to skin the backs off her ex lovers for example... thankfully.) Moving on is the greatest though.

And I gotta thank Andre 3000 for explaining EVERYTHING to me about falling for very very successful musicians on The Love Below. Thank you Andre 3000. I'd be disasterously in love with you if we ever shagged!

Moving on, old white men are the worst. So soulless. This morning one of them frowned at me for gettting in the elevator (hey sorry but I have to be elevated too) stood in front of all the elevator buttons so I had to ask a nice lady with a lot of bags to push my floor, then stood in front of the elevator door so that said lady also had to ask him to please stop taking up the whole car like it was just for him. And he talked on his blackberry the whole way up too. So put upon. Such attitude. I can just imagine what it would be like to have to talk to this guy at night, or rather listen. I bet he has a lot of opinions based on how hard he worked and how easy things are for others and how the world's on the decline. I think the world's on the decline too but I guess I can at least be happy if the decline shocks and dismays old resentful white men. (this is not a little informed by my experiences last year, assisting Mr. Time and Money, Time and Money, Time and Money.)

Lastly, Astoria - in the next few years, it's going to explode. I'm no economist, but it's 3 subway stops from Manhattan and the rent is at present about a third of Manhattan rents for comparable spaces so I think my reasoning's solid. For some reason, the only thing happening now though is luxury development in Long Island City. I wish i had a crystal ball to see astoria in ten years. Maybe i should hold on to my tiny flat. (At my tiny flat/ there's just my cat/ a bed/ and a chair./ Still/ i'll stick it til/ I'm on some bill/ All over Times Square." - no cat actually.) Maybe in a few years it'll be "rent-controled" in the place to be. Or maybe everything will be exactly the same except more nouveau riche will be living by the 59th street bridge dizzily happy to be living with a doorman and a gym in such close proximity to the Fresh Direct warehouse.