consumer hobo

look at this hat i found on the street. i think it may actually be a pink fluff-muff (with a black velvet reversible inside) or even skank tube top for a very small person, but i have chosen to wear it as a hat. when i first picked it up (off of a fence displaying free stuff here in the slope), along with a very large multicolored satisfyingly nubby scarf covered in cat hair, it was to be a hostess gift for dorothy or b, but, sorry girls, it would look adorable with your blond hair, but this one is mine. it probably makes me look like a tripped out hopper chick, but maybe that is what i am going for here.

ed and i made a giant trip to bed bath & beyonce today, an excursion which gave rise to my carrying a supersized shopping bag on the stick of a mop, hobo style. hence the title of this post and all of its i-ronic implications.

also we have wireless now, so i am blogging from bed while drinking beer. surprisingly easy to get used to. it is now easier for me to take a photo of myself on my cellphone, text it to gmail, and post it on my blog than it is to get a glass of water. the other day i was in the gap's underwear section and they had a bra promoted with the tag 'wireless.' i find this substantially more amazing than my technological feats. i mean, if i can put my boobs to work in terms of connectivity, how much better off wouldn't we all be?

blithe abuse of consumer technologies

with this post i join the ranks of indulgent and shameless bloggers who subject everyone to low-res cameraphone documentation of their lives. ahh it feels good to succumb. this is of ed and me on our way to a party in carroll gardens, where we ended up knowing everyone twice over through two separate paths of connections: the prolific brooklyn–austin exchange program, and ed's workmate jordi, who had extended the invitation.



on saturday lacey and her friends invited kt and me to the beach. we ended up going to the rockaways, in queens, which was quite close thanks to l's car and quite beachy thanks to water and sand and neighboring mexicans who taught us how to say bottleopener in spanish when we asked for one (forgot the word). it might've been a dirty word which is why they laughed at us, but kt said the woman, not the man, told her the word so it was less likely to be dirty? who knows. here are kt and lacey posing. immediately sent to dorothy, which prompted a call from her. see cameraphones are great.



here are josephine and holly after dinner the other weekend at a yum i-talian place in park slope.












and here are the trees and fire escape outside my kitchen window. maybe i will take another without the screen.

salaciousness in the NYT

this is pretty fun:

first read the new nanny diaries are online (sunday styles, 7.17.05)

then read the blog in question, instructions to the double

onesies for little rebelsies

ok, since ed hasn't posted about this i'm stealing it. a few times we've walked by this boutique on 5th ave that sells these che guevara onesies. if there can be said to be a heartbeat of park slope, this is surely it. it has everything: decadence, preciousness, rebellion via materialism, baby-centricity—this little playsuit is the locus of park slope identity.

sometimes when i walk around and see all the little kids here against the backdrop of lovely brownstones, trees, cafes, and gay-friendly shops, i wonder where they will go to rebel and be edgy once they are teenagers. their parents already patronize all the coffeeshops and alt-looking places here, so they'll grow up seeing the slope as a firmly entrenched establishment, whose tropes they will feel compelled to kick sand at using whatever style of boot is popular by then. i mean, if you wore che when you were still pooping yourself, you are obviously going to have to find your own style of heroes to commodify.

oh my god saturday night i dreamed i was being turned into a bug. a SCARY bug. i was still me but i had bug features stuck on, particularly my left arm and abdomen, which were so gross i don't even want to describe. at first i thought it would go away, like with physical therapy or something. but then it wasn't and i was noticing weird antennae everywhere and i slumped and was like oh god god god please make it go away. ed woke up and assured me that i was not a bug. still it was bad. THEN last night i was making a salad and tossing it and noticed something moving and there was this big spider/not-spider bug crawling around covered in berry vinaigrette, moving slowy and creeping through the organic spring mix. it had to have been in the lettuce bag, eating and shitting the lettuce since being packed away at earthbound farm and barely surviving the journey through those microengineered eighteen layers of semipermeable plastic. otherwise i would've seen it crawling on the counter and scaling the slippery pyrex upside-down. which, judging from its motor skills, was not so plausible. i am now afraid to eat the lettuce (and too lazy to wash it) even tho ed promised that no spider eggs would hatch in our stomachs and eat away at us from our insides.

please no kafka jokes.*

*unless they rule. (unlikely)

cleanliness and grooming aren't necessary, but they make you feel better

been doing an okay job not descending into total slothitude at my one-month mark of unemployment. managed to email some stuff to the profs in charge of my program, doing this new gyrotonic thing (via work-study a.k.a. cleaning so i don't have to pay tons of dollars) under the aegis of this really cool girl i met at the co-op, watching admittedly too much pirated gilmore girls, reading some things, and trying not to run up the daytime minutes on my phone. might try kickboxing at the gym tomorrow. ed and i are about to embark upon a sunday-night pizza retrieval operation.