ALSO THIS

Just found this on my friend Kara's fbook pg.

Two Things:

1. Excerpt from a conversation I had with Liam (the 5 year old I babysit) this afternoon, upon noting his toplessness...

"Okay, can you at least keep your pants on? I get it, it's a guy think to be topless, but just keep the pants on, alright?" He mumbled okay and kept watching Scooby Doo. Sometimes I half expect him or his sister to turn to me and be all like, "I'm five/three dude".

2. It's gotten to the point where it's embarrassing to buy PBR in Bed-Stuy.


....What has my life become?

There was a point in time when I thought this described my life perfectly

No more, but still:

(The test begins...now.)

I thought I was smart
I thought I was right
I thought it better not to fight
I thought there was a virtue, in always being cool
So it came time to fight
I thought "I'll just step aside"
And that the time would prove you wrong
And that you would be the fool

I don't know where the sunbeams end
And the starlights begin
It's all a mystery

Oh, to fight is to defend
If it's not now then tell me when
Would be the time
That you would stand up and be a man
For to lose I could accept
But to surrender, I just wept
And regretted this moment
Oh that I, was the fool

I don't know where the sunbeams end
And the starlights begin
It's all a mystery
And I don't know how a man decides
What's right for his own life
It's all a mystery

'Cause I'm a man, not a boy
And there are things you can't avoid
You have to face them
When you're not prepared to face them
If I could I would
But you're with him, now I'd do no good
I should've fought him
But instead I let him
I let him take you

(The test is over...now.)

In other news, new Girl Talk out today! I'm gonna go download it right now if internet traffic will let me. Listened to it earlier with Allison and upon first hearing I'd say its awesome as ever, surprise surprise.

New York, You Are My Greatest Love Affair

Not to get all, that-sex-and-the-city-episode-where-Carrie-goes-on-a-date-with-New York, but...

But New York City is complicated. Like anything with highs, there are also lows. And that is never more true than here. Which is why, rest of America, we need lists like these. On days when we're stuck in the rain trying to get a cab without an umbrella carrying all of our laundry having worked 20 hours straight, slept for four, broken up with our significant others, and are now heading back to the office, we need to remember why we do this to ourselves. (Sometimes, we are self-absorbed because we have to be. Also, all the rest of y'all want to do is talk about us!)

.....

from "I really do heart NY", an article in response to the responses (I'm getting confused) to the same blog's list of 50 Reasons to be Pretty Damn Euphoric You Live in New York City (go read that now if you live in New York).

Every time I decide I'm leaving you, you find a way to pull me back in, you asshole. New York, you are my most favorite abusive relationship (yeah yeah everyone says it and it's cliche cuz it's true) dotdotdot ERGO, I hereby dedicate this to you:

Anna I hope you see this eventually you're gonna love it

The Sixth Borough

Young friends, whose string-and-tin-can phone extended from island to island, had to pay out more and more string, as if letting kites go higher and higher.
"It's getting almost impossible to hear you," said the young girl from her bedroom in Manhattan as she squinted through a pair of her father's binoculars, trying to find her friend's window.
"I'll holler if I have to," said her friend from his bedroom in the Sixth Borough, aiming last birthday's telescope at her apartment.
The string between them grew incredibly long, so long it had to be extended with many other strings tied together: his yo-yo string, the pull from her talking doll, the twine that had fastened his father's diary, the waxy string that had kept his grandmother's pearls around her neck and off the floor, the thread that had separated his great-uncle's childhood quilt from a pile of rags. Contained within everything they shared with one another were the yo-yo, the doll, the diary, the necklace, and the quilt. They had more and more to tell each other, and less and less string.
The boy asked the girl to say "I love you" into her can, giving her no further explanation.
And she didn't ask for any, or say "That's silly," or "We're too young for love," or even suggest that she was saying "I love you" because he asked her to. Instead she said "I love you". The words traveled the yo-yo, the doll, the diary, the necklace, the quilt, the clothesline, the birthday present, the harp, the tea bag, the tennis racket, the hem of the skirt he one day should have pulled from her body...The boy covered his can with a lid, removed it from the string, and put her love for him on a shelf in his closet. Of course, he never could open the canm because then he would lose its contents. It was enough just to know it was there.

--Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathon Safron Foer

To the two people who may read my blog:

Sorry bout it, gonna transcribe a few pages from "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close" by Jonathan Safran Foer, because, I project myself into everything (I'm not the girl)

Sometimes I would think about those hundred letters laid across my bedroom floor. If I hadn't collected them, would our house have burned less brightly?
I looked at the sculpture after every session. He went to feed the animals. He let me be alone with it, although I never asked him for privacy. He understood.
After only a few sessions it became clear that he was sculpting Anna. He was trying to remake the girl he knew seven years before. He looked at me as he sculpted, but he saw her.


Never mind about the few pages, I guess that was the gist of it.

I Need To Get This Out

FRASIER IS THE MOST BORING TELEVISION SHOW EVER CREATED