Humans Take Note

This just in from Audrey...

"Apparently these are real, and the polar bear came back every day that week to play with the dogs."

If you don't already think animals are far more advanced than we humans, think again. Stuart Brown describes Norbert Rosing's striking images of a wild polar bear coming upon tethered sled dogs in the wilds of Canada 's Hudson Bay

The photographer was sure that he was going to see the end of his dogs when the polar bear wandered in, but

The Mean Fort Greene Machine

Watch as I explode with excitement.

“Brooklyn Flea will take place every Sunday—rain or shine—starting April 6, 2008, at Bishop Loughlin Memorial High School in Fort Greene, Brooklyn, on Lafayette Ave. between Clermont and Vanderbilt Ave. The Flea will feature 200 vendors of vintage furniture, clothing and antiques alongside new designs by local makers of everything from jewelry to textiles. More information about the Flea can be found through the "About" link (on http://www.brownstoner.com/brooklynflea/ with a list of vendors [so far].)”

A Eulogy to the Man I Loved

The man I loved was kind, giving, forgiving, generous, loyal, honest, loving and trustworthy. He was my best friend; he was my lover. He was killed by a shallow man; an unkind man who is untrustworthy; a selfish man who will kick a person while they are down, just as they are about to stand back up. He is a man who does not know what it means to love. Or it may just be that the man I loved never existed in the first place.

UPDATE Re: Log Cabin in Brooklyn

"Real Estate Mysteries: Bigger than a shoebox, but not much
Nestled between multi-story homes in Brooklyn’s Windsor Terrace, surprise: a wooden cabin"

Looks like someone beat me to my slice of rural living in a big city. I'm so jealous.

I Miss My Best Friend

"I'm against picketing, but I don't know how to show it."
-Mitch Hedberg

Whine with my Wine

Another Brooklyn Ladies Association Happy Hour (BLAHH) was called to order last night at 7pm. Four ladies were present at commencement and were able to orient themselves to the daunting menu at the Jake Walk before the other members arrived. In the end, we tried many different types of wines on their vast list, sampled the country pate, olives, 3 different kinds of cheeses. All were delicious and our waitress was adorably helpful.

It was a wonderful way to spend the delicate part of the evening, transitioning from work into leisure. And now that is spring, we were able to sip down the sun. As night rolled over us, and taking a good look in our wallets, we opted for move on to cheaper food and beverage. Some got Cuban sandwiches others falafel, but all met up at the Zombie Hut for 5 dollar “dessert” drinks or 3 dollar beers.

The Zombie Hut was the scene of a rather ugly birthday, where I consumed an entire scorpion bowl (a 151 rum drink) and had to be removed from my own party. At home, somehow I cracked my head on the radiator next to my bed, succeeding in giving myself a concussion. I am now very cautious at the Zombie Hut. I would like to report a stellar performance this visit, but alas I am not meant to be pretty at this bar. Sadly, the 2 glasses of wine loosened my disposition, constitution and my lips. I unloaded my current, past, and future hardships onto a wonderful friend who took all of it with grace and sympathy. Alcohol and grief are not friendly bed fellows and when forced to mix the resulting crash spills on to the people in the hit zone. The amount of alcohol consumed determines the diameter of the “hit zone” and the resulting carnage. There were not many stray bullets this time…

After the “unburdening,” things improved immensely, as we proceeded to a birthday celebration down the block.

I am happy to report that the BLAHH is about to start a BLAHHG: A blog to document and review all the places we try. Also, I have found a partner to help me return to the world of comedy. Our plan is to write and perform a brilliantly funny piece. For now, my plan is to enjoy the sunshine and approaching warm weather and try to figure out each day as they come.

Frowny Faced Economy

Recently, I’ve heard half scared/half defeated voices spout “economic collapse, eventual depression, credit crisis, and American dream turned nightmare.” This time they are not coming from my head; (I often try to harshly self-reference myself straight into a more frugal lifestyle.) This down turn is sadly universal and causing a scare in the financial world, especially with the recent Bear Stearns situation. According to the NY Times “the cash squeeze that brought Bear Stearns to its knees is fanning fears that other investment banks might be vulnerable to the crisis of confidence gripping Wall Street.”

My paranoia plans to pool what ever cash I have, go to home depot, buy out their lumber and garden department, build my own version of a log cabin* directly under the BQE, plant a garden, and live directly off the land, no matter how dirty and urine stained it may be. Whatever money I have left, I will carefully line my mattresses and pillows, batten down the hatches and wait it out in sweet subsistence living bliss. Fortunately, my paranoia is a push over and often loses in a fight with my sanity. I will remain in my apartment (directly under the BQE,) for now.

But, I am not here to deliver more bad news, turn your blues violet. I have heard the first positive news to come out of this whole thing, again from the NY Times. “The slowing economy, weighed down by a widening credit crisis, is likely to delay the signature office tower and three residential buildings at the heart of the $4 billion Atlantic Yards project in Brooklyn, the developer said.” Ratner was not specific, but the delay could be a matter of years. This is good news for Brooklyn residents that have been fighting the good fight for sometime now. This is also good news for my little cabin under the BQE. Honestly, I am surprised that my harshly worded letter did not have the same results.

Well, if the whole thing (the economy) does go down, I promise I will share my coffee rations with you as we count cars from the front porch, which will look remarkably like a raft.

*I do have construction experience. One summer I partnered in the creation of an ill fated table that more closely resembled a raft. It ironically was taken down by strong rains and hurricane type winds. I take comfort in knowing that it may have saved a small animal float to safety during the great roof flood of 2005.

Dark Chocolate Bunny

And so another Monday arrives just as many before and many to follow. I begin my day navigating through the undulating waves of strangers fighting to cut you at the quick. My heart is no longer in the game and I let one selfish neck tie after the next overtake me at each stair, around each corner. I have no fight this morning and fall back into a leisurely pace, knowing it will not help with my tardy attendance record. Coffee in hand, dark glasses at the ready I emerge from the dank depths into sunlight that stings rather than warms this morning. I’ve chosen a path not unlike any other work day, it serves me fine, yet I resent it and am no longer speaking to my commute. I had an escape plan, a solution, a covert operation that would free me from commuter bondage and delivery me into a future where the sun does not sting the skin and faces smile at every turn. A future changed, this day goes down reluctantly, bad tasting medicine fighting its way back up.

Cheatin'

Pictures of sleepy puppies win.

Wrestling the Homeless

Homeless Man: "Good morning."
Me: "What's so good about it?"

Fingerless

Well it’s St. Patrick’s Day again. As I will continue to affirm, it is a grueling, traumatic holiday for red heads. We are at the mercy of drunken heckles from all kinds. I choose not to wade through chummed waters this year. In fact, I can’t recall what I did last year. To be fair, last year was not my best, sick from the start to the finished, often crippled by pain and fatigue. And now, as the pain lifts and the fatigue seeks camp in lazier pastures, I still have a fog nipping at my heels and trying (and succeeding) to pull me under once again.

What is that saying? When one door closes, a window opens? I never realized that it was entirely possible to get your fingers caught in the door making it impossible to go through the window. So here I am caught painfully by the past and unable to escape to a new future (at least not one without fingers.)

Revival

It's back on!
I think I have more things to say.

XO
Jaime

The Hurricane and the Low Pressure Front

As the rains have returned, so must I.

I return not to complain about my pruning fingers, my perpetually damp socks and my failing boots with the hole in the sole. I’m not going to write about damp leaves and slippery rocks keeping me from hiking this past weekend. Nor will I gripe about the hay, wet with disappointment, unsuitable to ride in through saturated pumpkin patches and drowning corn mazes. I will not curse the rain, damn the rain or even shout profanity toward the sky, even if I feel provoked. I will dutifully raise my umbrella and go about my day without uttering a “nasty weather we are having” in an elevator with a stranger. No I will not do any of these things.

I merely want to share with you a great big hello.

HELLO

Sticking it to the Man, One knee Sock at a Time

I wore knee socks to work, grey woolen knee socks. I didn’t wear hose. I didn’t put on stockings. I even left the tights at home. Woolen, grey knee socks cover my shins and wedge shoes my feet.

Why do I do this to myself? Why do I insist on drawing attention (incurring wrath) from the sub-committee on appropriate work attire?

I look forward to my concise, properly harsh, email regarding the dress code.

Monkeys and Elephants

I’m off to a 4 hour training.

If only I had been previously trained not to look bored during a 4 hour training.

I’m doomed: didn't get enough sleep on a school night doomed.

OH FOR THE LOVE OF RAIN...

I'm molding.

The Falling Water

Fall is here!

It brings with it the great rains. As I stare out a 40th floor window in Mid-Town New York I have to ask, where is the Ark? Water falls in buckets like the sky has been ripped open freeing its water collection. The sky has quite a collection.

Fall is my favorite season. It has been hard to truly enjoy the seasonable weather, the air’s new scent, apples, apples, pumpkins and leaves changing color. My Mother describes fall as the time when the trees dress up in their best formal wear in attempt to impress. I like that.

The Rolley Chair Circus

I'm bored.

Just Another Day

One more hour until early dismissal. This is one of the few things in adult life that is reminiscent of high school joys. In high school I was in the nerdy accelerated courses and was able to take a late arrival, off campus lunch and early dismissal in my senior year. (These were well earned, unlike my need to run from this Park Avenue office building as fast as my beaten up sneakers can move without disintegrating off my feet.)

In the summer I get to leave work at 3pm on Fridays (pending manager’s arrival.) Today I’m literally counting down the minutes and ducking and weaving my boss as he moves with purpose about the office. If I remain too long he will trap me under a pile to fax, file, set on fire and 3pm dismissal will seem nothing more than a fond memory. I’ve already gotten up get tea 4 times, gone to the rest room 5 times, and hung out in the mysteriously locked file room “searching for a file” for an uncomfortably long time.

Here he comes… got to run.

Boring Town, Population One

Wow has it really been two months since I posted anything? Have I really had nothing to say? I did sort of disappear into oblivion, choosing sleep over exciting week night and even weekend plans. Or maybe I haven’t posted because of the oppressive heat that has plagued New York for what feels like an eternity. I was just too hot, tired and dehydrated to type. I could have posted and posted “UGGGgggghh I’m so f-ing hot” for two months. Aren’t you glad I spared you?

I have had my hands full this summer (I can’t believe it’s coming to a close soon.) Unlike last year when the rhtl were taking in shows every night and finding ourselves at exclusive rock n’ roll after parties, I’ve been mopping up water from my busted Air Conditioner (that I refuse to turn off even though it produces a great lake on the floor when left on.) I’ve been traveling although I can’t think where, and doing lots of stuff I can’t remember. Obviously the summer months have proved to be a boring blur of I can’t remembers.

Here’s to an exciting fall.