Wheeeeeeee!

I wish New York had hills.

Siren's Song

I have named the new cat "Siren" because every night she whines incessantly and has kept me awake for days on end. Besides the annoying drone, the name seemed appropriate: the Siren's Song is known for its alluring beauty, but eventually makes you want to kill yourself. It is true that the cliffs of cuteness lead to the rocks of regret.

On my third sleepless night I found myself completely losing my mind. I was so exhausted that I got up and started sobbing while screaming at the cat. Me: "Just SHUT UP! PLEASE just STOP! STOP IT!" Cat: "Meow. Meow. Meow." Me: "You are a DIRTY HORRIBLE animal! I have spent two hundred dollars on you and you are FUCKING me OVER!" Cat: "Meow. Meow. Meow." Me, now hsyterically sobbing and throwing things at the cat. "SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! Fuck you! Fuck all cats everywhere! Fuck your ancestors and the evolutionary path that has brought you into my living room!" Cat: "Meow. Meow. Meow." Me: "I understand why mothers drown their children!"

I have spent two hundred dollars getting this cat checked out, it has fleas which are now in my house, I can't get it placed anywhere, and I now apparently have no moral compass. I believe I have martyred myself on the altar of animal rescue for the first and last time.

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

Walking home from a bar in BK last night, I stumbled across a cute cat outside my buildiing. He ran up to me and started purring. I presumed he belonged to a neighbor and must have gotten locked out and as my two cats are currently residing at my folks place, I took him in and gave him some food. He then happily took residence underneath my couch.

The problem with this cat is his agressive affection. He comes barreling towards you like the Tasmanian devil and throws himself on the floor with equal gusto. The larger and more aggravating problem is, as of night two, he never stops meowing. Ever. Even when you try to go to sleep. I mean, hours and hours and HOURS of meowing. I am beginning to understand why this cat got thrown onto the street. So now I have to figure out a way to break him of this habit. It is possible that he is sick, so I cant' be too harsh. But I took him in off the street and am now rewarded with sleepless nights and an unhealthy cat. Awesome.

I made up a bunch of fliers with his picture on it and posted them through the hood, but so far no luck. Once the meowing problem is solved, I think will make an awesome pet for someone. Who isn't me. Three cats somehow steps over some imaginary line in my life that turns me from cat-lover to girl destined to be alone forever with only cats as companions. Upon inspection today I think he may have been on the street for at least a few days, so not sure that there is an owner out there at this point.


So, uh, anyone want a cat?

Song Stars!

I just returned from a trip to LA which was a pretty satisfying short vacation. The trip started with me running through the airport sans shoes (flip flops are bad airport shoes) thanks to the untimely arrival of my car service, until a nice man in one of those golf-carts came to my rescue and got me to my gate with about a minute to spare. (Special thanks also to the super poorly designed JFK Airport--why are gates twenty minutes walk away from check-in? WTF?)

I took Delta Song to LA. I never thought an airline would be capable of levity, but Delta song is HI-larious. They have a sweet desperate quality that says "Look at me! I am hip! I am cool! I am not the poor cousin of Jet Blue!" The flight attendants were dressed in quirky green and black outfits and were clearly hired for their bubbly personalities and vivacious demeanors. One of them even had a mohawk (Clearly, punk rock haircuts=awesome airline. Good job, Delta!) Once on board they pipe in the newest Wallflowers album, and give you a chance to check out the plane decor which is green, orange, and purple. (Oh Delta, you are so wacky!) They had all sorts of baffling lingo: the attendants are called "Song Stars" and the flight was consistently referred to as the "Super Song Flight." And then possibly the most hilarious voiceover ever recorded began: Enya-esque music plays in the background while a soothing Sally Kellerman-esque voice asks the whole cabin to breathe in and breathe out together and to "let my voice wash over you like a bubbling brook". I was afraid that we were all going to have to submit to some sort of inflight yoga session, but it turned out this was the beginning of the safety announcement, which had cute asides like "smoking is bad for your chi, so we don't allow it on our Super Song flight." Really Delta Song? Because I thought that was a federal regulation, but whatevs.

Other highlights of my trip:

-Meeting my 7 day old niece and my best friend's 9-month old baby. Tres adorable!

-Staying with my old friend Michelle, her boyfriend Bill, and their adorable 3-year old daughter Josephine. The sweetest people in the world. I also got to experience the fabulous world of balloon animals, pony rides, face painting and other things that you will only do with a three-year old.

-Going to a UCB party and not knowing ANYBODY (except for about 10 people from NY). And as is par for the course with any UCB party, watching late night wrestling.

-Completely missing the blackout that LA was thrown into on Monday afternoon. My friend and I were driving around and completely missed it, even though all the lights on Venice Blvd. were flashing red. We took no notice.

-Crashing one night at the Regent Beverly Wilshire on Rodeo Drive, possibly the fanciest hotel in LA (the Pretty Woman hotel!). The bathroom was bigger than my apartment, and they left truffles in a martini glass on the night table. Is it possible to feel underdressed at a hotel? Answer: Yes, it is.

-I don't drive and I never got stuck for a ride, not once! Thank God for good friends with cars and a lot of free time. Also, satellite radio in cars is awesome: late night country radio can't be beat.

-Celebrity sightings were minimal, but we did see Jessica Simpson walk by the theater and I met the director of the House of Sand and Fog at the Santa Monica Farmer's Market.

-Having to actually utter the words "I will have a 'Goddess of Thought and Reason' salad" at a vegan eatery in Hollywood. Only in LA....

The FEMA Debacle

Watch this video: What the fucking fuck is going on here?

The Beach

I spent the last two days at the beach, Jacob Riis National Park, out in Queens. Day one was spectacular: no people, hot lifeguards, warm water. Day two: a little less so. Last night my friend told me a story of a horrifying encounter with a small armada of jellyfish during his youth, which left him injured at the time and traumatized forever. So wouldn't you know it, the minute I stepped in the water I encountered a fairly large jellyfish which made me turn tail and run. The rest of the day was spent baking on the beach and cursing the evolutionary path that created these gargoyles of the deep. My friend Heidi than spotted several more during her foray into the water. Even at my most suposedly-relaxing moments, fear and consternation rule. Life is, indeed, a beach.