There are haters, you know.

It has come to my attention that there is a certain column in the Onion called "The Hater" written by Amelie Gillette, it is exactly what it seems in that it is a column detailing her hatred of this and that, pop culture, etc. I would like to take this opportunity to say that as far as I can tell from the archives (though I saw her column in the print version), my blog was born months before her column. Now, is it a little paranoid to think that she lifted her name from my very own blog, despite the fact that "hater" is a fairly common term used by many writers and hipsters alike? Probably, but my reason for writing this is not because I mean to accuse her of stealing my ideas for her own column (cough, yeti, cough cough), but because I am anticipating someone asking me if I got the idea for my blog based on her column, and then wanting to punch said person in the face.

That being said, there are a few unsettling similarities. First, the "intro to the column" column. She begins by detailing why she writes the column, making her confidence in her opinion known/making her superiority clear. She then lists things one might come to expect from "The Hater" in the future. Does this sound familiar yet? I'm just saying...

Also, what's up with her "Fuck snakes on a plane" thing? SamLJ can do no wrong in my eyes, and as far as I'm concerned, basically shits gold. Besides, what would possess you to diss a badass like SLJ anyway? You know, sometimes it's not about the quality of the film, but the spirit of the project. No? Well, I would be careful who you talk to about that... For the record, I would watch a movie just to see SLJ say "motherfucker every five seconds." ALSO, there are numbers on those scrabble letters on her column header, and what do the numbers on the h's add up to? 8!!!!!
Additionally, I DO get paid largish sums of money to watch things like "So you think you can dance." And I'm not ashamed...exactly. As Fists often says "You are not able to say things like 'you couldn't pay me to watch Extreme Makeover: Home Edition', because you are!"
All kidding aside, I like this little column. I respect the spirit of so no hard feelings AG, I'm just looking out for my best interest. (All I want is what's coming to me, all i want is my fair share! Just send 10s and 20s...)
So, there's that.
Also it has come to my attention that Rebecca Schumann of "Nothing to see here" in the The L Magazine used to work at my job up until a month ago, AND that one of my favorite people at work knows her. Those who know about me and my undying support of the L magazine can imagine my excitement.
***
And now....about this new Sufjan album. I love Sufjan, you all know that...but I have very mixed feelings about this. I wouldn't say that I don't like it, and it may still grow on me, but at this point it sounds like what it says; which is to say that these songs didn't make the cut, but they played a few here and there on the tour. There are a few that I really like; in the case of sufjan I've always loved his albums from the start, and there was never a question. but this? I feel I'm already giving a huge benefit of the doubt, actually trying very hard to like it because I crave more (MORE!!!!). The jury's still out. More up[dates to come. Sorry SS, but don't fret. I'm still coming to your show and I still love you, even though you don't love me (yet).

One more quick note: I am writing this from a Williamsburg coffee shop/wireless internet oasis. There are eight people on their laptop including myself. Three Mac iBook G4s, four Mac Powerbook G4s, and one lonely Dell. Oh Dell, so young to be out to pasture...it warms my heart. Oh, shit, two lonely Dells. Well Dell, I see you've fooled me again. What are you, fucking Skeletor? (Delletor?)

Girl, you know it's true.

I h8te midtown. With a fiery passion that burns for eight days and eight nights even when there is only fuel for one (oh wait...um, that's not right.) I got to bask in the pretentious wankery that is midtown Tuesday night while taking in the Cool 'eh "pool" party with Katy and John (because they could not secure a permit for throng of drunken partiers to around it, the pool was actually closed). This hotel party was relatively hip; the bar's interior was sleek and sterile (pictures forthcoming), the drinks were probably overpriced (not that I would know, because I was all over that "open bar," and said promotional liquor was cheap but mildly satisfactory. They made this "Cabana" with the Cabana Cachaca Rum, which was like the cheap Elvis impersonater of mojitos. The mint was NOT muddled, they skimped on the lime and sugar, and some of the versions involved sprite. They just took some limes, mint, ice and soda and shook it. fuck that. In related news, I have decided that when new roomie Collyn moves in, we're gonna buy some liquor and should have a swingin' mixer at the end of the summer(?).

So besides getting drunk off the cheap rum, the pool party was kind of a bust, besides giving me more things to feel superior about. On the way home we had a magical experience with a butterfly caught in the subway entrance and followed that up with a belated Pomme Frite underwear party.

Wednesday morning was all about Mud, the NY Times crossword, and yoga in the park. So good. That brings me back to Tuesday day; I got my yoga on in the park for almost three hours, being joined by Matt midsession. We then proceed to run through the sprinklers in the playground, get some chow at Earthmatters, and walked back to Chelsea before I bought myself a Lily (a live lily plant that is).

So fast forward to Wednesday's lovely and relaxing morning in the park; there were birds, green grass, falafel sandwiches, and some casual conversation for good measure. I then went home to pick up for some animation work I'm doing for an indie film. While waiting for him, a pigeon shit on my foot, which was possibly one of the most disgusting experiences of my life. I'm terrified I'm gonna get bird flu or something. I ran upstairs to wash off my foot and now I'm just trying not to think about it.

THEN of course, Wednesday was also my SH8H ex-wife's birthday (Yes, we have divorced, but like Sonny and Cher we remain close. Although hopefully Leslie wont get drunk and crash into a tree; but I mean that should be fairly easy to avoid...in New York...in the summer...without skis...)! First we went to dinner at Three of Cups where we were later joined by a fellow "hasbian" Misha. After enjoying some good food, wine, and Bristol Cream Sherry we embarked on a tour of the Eville. First stop: Rue B. Got to catch up with the bartender Rob, who I hadn't seen in some time. Upon saying goodbye he informed me that he noticed I was wearing nearly the same outfit as I was the first time I met him. Good memory. THEN we went to a bar (it was probably on Ave B, but I'm not sure of the name) with a photobooth, which was such a thrill since I have a photostrip and polaroid collection that I feel very strongly about. I took three strips (SH8H ex-wide took one), which I will post when I scan them next week. On a similar note, I intend on purchasing 10ish packs of Polaroid film this weekend with some of this unexpected "extra money." Can't believe they're discontinuing polaroids...booooo!
NEways...I got home real late, and woke again to go do some yoga on the pier. Went to work, blah blah blah.

There were a couple outstanding "Overheard in New York" moments. I will try to relate this particular one as best as I can...though it is best told in person.
I'm sitting on the F train, and there's a mother with her beautiful two-year-old daughter in her lap, and 6 year-old son in the seat next to her. Both children have shaved heads, and the mother has a despondent look.
Suddenly the little boy blurts this out very loudly with not a moments pause between words, and interspersed with maniacal laughter:
"HEY-MOM-I-JUST-CAME-UP-WITH-A-COOL-NEW-WORD-BANANAPANTS!!!!HAHAHAHAHAHAHABANANAPANTS!!HAHAHAHAHA-BANANAMOM!!!!!" and points at the mom.
The mother has no reaction at all and just stares straight forward into space, and the little boy looks away from her and stops yelling. awww.
The second was less creative, and perhaps only funny after a few glasses of sherry. On the way to Rue B, Leslie, Misha and I passed a hobo singing at the top of his lungs, "OOOOOOOH SAY CAN YOU SEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, THEEEEE BEAUTY IN THE BEEEEEEEEEAST!!!" it continued, but I can't remember. Maybe you had to be there...

You can expect some photos ear;e next week, along with a weekend synopsis. Thanks all.

For all you kids that hate to read, today you will be rewarded!

Fireflies are also called Lightning Bugs. Named as they are nocturnal luminous insects of the
beetle family Lampyridae, consisting of about 1,900 species that inhabit tropical and temperate regions. The common glow worm is a member of this family. Most of the fireflies feed on pollen and nectar but for adult fireflies they do not eat.

The female fireflies will produce a short rhythmic flashes that attracts the males fireflies. The females will sit on the ground in the high grass to flash to certain male only. The female chooses the males based on their flash pattern.

However, others feel that the flashing is not to attract the opposites but as a mechanism of
warning to advise predators of the fireflies bitter taste. Unfortunately, some frogs like to eat them.

Firefly light is produced under a nervous control within special cells which are richly supplied with air tubes. Only the light from the visible spectrum is emitted.

Fireflies do not bite, do not have pincers, do not carry disease and in fact are quite harmless. They cannot even fly fast. They have a life span of two months. (from thaibugs.com)

I've never seen fireflies in the city before, but last night while taking a "shake shack break," i saw hundreds on madison square park. I found this sight breathtaking. Try to ignore Matt and I talking with this Australian dude...





But that's not all! I present to you:

TANGENTAL SUMMER RECAP PART 1: A STORY IN PICTURES!

post pilgrimage post (not proofread)

I'm sure many of you have forgotten about me by now...but I'm still here. I've moved to South 4th St, I own an exponentially growing number of plants (or I will anyway), and after spending an extended period of time in the woods in NH last week I've fallen knee deep in self analysis. Perhaps to some this doesn't seem like a good reason not to blog, but let's face it...you don't REALLY want to read all about what I think about myself and my life- not in a serious way. Or if you do it's probably because you're a good friend, and in that case you already know. Anyways the point is, I'm back and I'll try not to abandon you again to go on some "hippies makin' macrame hammock chairs in the woods journey of self awareness" thing for a while.

Anyways... Since we last cyberinteracted I went to the beach and got pounded into submission by the surf, saw Belle and Sebastian, visited with my mum, unpacked most of my apartment, went to NH to embrace my womanhood, acquired 26 bug bites (including a couple on my bottom), got a haircut, bought tickets to see sufjan stevens, and drank about 50 cups of coffee.

Since returning I've been really out of it. I'm trying to remember some witty anecdotes to relate about all those funny hipsters I get to observe in their natural habitat, but to no avail. I am, however, a member of a theoretical Charlie's Angels spoof at my place of employment. I really can't divulge further, but the point is I'd look really hot with Farrah Fawsett hair. Obviously.

I went to Spuytin Duyvil last night with my partner in crime, and enjoyed some great wine and cheese. I hadn't been there since I went in 2003 and now that I live in walking distance I plan to visit more often. I feel like it's more of a winter bar, but it was very enjoyable none the less. We also discovered the "South 1st street Jungle". After waking in the morning as a result of some hooligans horsin' aroun' on the street, I have today decided that I WILL determine what is so appealing about the bodega on the northwest corner of Bedford and S 4th. I think perhaps I may need to rig up a disguise and try to eavesdrop on the "shit shooting" from behind a nearby mailbox. OR I'm gonna throw water balloons off the roof.

Either way, one thing is now clear: I've lost the ability to post a blog with "flow" and in my attempts to win back the hearts and minds of the "in'ernets" I have perhaps only succeeded in making you all question how it is that I write for a living. Perhaps the answer will come to me in a dream...