Monday, January 29, 2007

Thin line

Storming around this afternoon, I hated everything. Everyone. The whole world sucked. I came home to find happy families on Oprah. I actually hoped she'd have a depressing show. If I'd had a gun, my tv would be dead. Just pissed off and mad. Fuck you world.

Then after a nice phone call, where no one got mad or upset I was in love again. But how long will it last?

Sunday, January 28, 2007

Simple Kind of Life

The lyrics from the song, "Simple Kind of Life."

For a long time I was in love
Not only in love, I was obsessed
With a friendship that no one else could touch
It didn't work out, I'm covered in shells

And all I wanted was a simple thing
A simple kind of life
And all I needed was a simple man
So I could be a wife

I'm so ashamed, I've been so mean
I don't know how it got to this point
Ooh I always was the one with all the love
But you came along, I'm hunting you down

Like a sick domestic abuser looking for a fight
And all I wanted was the simple things a simple kind of life

Oh if we met tomorrow for the very first time
Would it start all over again?
Would I try to make you mine?

I always thought I'd be a mom
Sometimes I wish for a mistake
The longer that I wait the more selfish that I get
You seem like you'd be a good dad

Now all the simple things are simply too complicated for my life
How'd I get so faithful to my freedom? A selfish kind of life
When all I ever wanted was the simple things a simple kind of life

Saturday, January 27, 2007

Thursday, January 25, 2007

Luck be a lady tonight

I used to play this song before dates with a certain guy. He was (and still is) hard to schedule.Sometimes I'd have little or no warning if he was free. So when I got the word - I'd play this. I hope I get lucky tonight!

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

Mom's blue bowl

mom's blue bowl
Originally uploaded by Debora Drower.

This old bowl has been around as long as I can remember. You can see it's a bit worn but well loved. It's held chips and nice fruit. Mom always asks if we want some nice fruit for dessert.

I've been trying to make a bowl with blue stripes. A woman named Agnes Gonk Bojaxhiu is my inspiration. Maybe this blue bowl has been hinting at me to create something my whole life. Or it's just a blue striped bowl.

Monday, January 22, 2007

All Grown Up

I have been putting off getting insurance quotes. My current rates are massively high yet being a lazy ass I've been knowingly paying too much. So before I renew my current insurance, I've been doing that online insurance quote shit. And talking to agents as well. All grown up like. And for that I found a great Calvin and Hobbes that celebrates the adult world.

Sunday, January 21, 2007

Dear Oscar

Friends know I quote the director of the Oscar winning movie, "Kolya." When he won his Oscar back in 1997. He had this cute, Dear Oscar, speech talking to it personally because it had kept him up all night. He'd pronounce it Uhs Car. I love to say it like that. And this Tuesday, the Oscars nominees will be announced. It's the only awards show I watch.

To celebrate another Oscar, here's a fave of mine is the kid above - (A young Scott P.) I hope the Oscar Mayer folks don't get mad. Oh Uhs Car!

Friday, January 19, 2007

You Are In My System

Cool story, My clock radio alarm goes off and Robert Palmer's, "You're in my system," starts playing. Usually I am so groggy in the morning. This song rockets me out of bed and I stand by my shitty clock radio listening to it. But it's early so I don't write down the artist, album. Later that day, after school, I'm at my local record store. I go to the counter and tell the guy I heard this song on the college radio station and it was so cool. He asks what time I was listening. Around 7 am or something like that. And he tells me it's Robert Palmer. Oh, were you listening? No, I was the DJ this morning. Whoa!!!!!!! Cool.

And yes, silly boy, you are in my system and I can't seem to flush you out.

And now the lyrics:

Day by day and night by night
I feel you in my mind
It happens all the time
You know the day dreams stop
My heart beats on
I can’t take it any more
It's you I live for

You are in my system
You are in my system
I just want you to know that,
You are in my system

You oooohhhh you’re in my system, system
Don’t you, Don’t you, don’t you know that, babe.

I will keep on pushing, pushing, pushing
Until I get through
My main objective baby is to get to you
To turn your mind around
I know will take time
But you know I can wait, now
You’re on my mind

You are in my system
I just want you to know that,
You are in my system
Got me burning, I’m on fire
You, you’re in my system
You’re everything I need
You, oooohhhh, you’re in my system, system
Don’t you, Don’t you, don’t you know that, babe.

It’s a romantic vision of me and you
It happens all the time
My dreams are filled with you
There’s no doubt in my mind
That I’ll be true baby
You know I’ll take you out
And I’ll keep lovin’ you

The cup of life

This song, The cup of life, is dedicated to the love of my life, coffee. The cup of life. Honestly. And I love this Spanglish Version. It's so pixelated that it's kinda cool.

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Can't Be Without You

These are some of the lyrics to Mary J Blige's "Be Without You."
She says/sings it better than I ever could.

Chemistry was crazy from the get-go
Neither one of us knew why
We didn't build nothing overnight
Cuz a love like this takes some time
People swore it off as a phase
Said we can't see that
Now from top to bottom
They see that we did that
It's so true that
We've been through it
We got real shit
See baby we been...

Too strong for too long (and I can't be without you baby)
And I'll be waiting up until you get home (cuz I can't sleep without you baby)

Monday, January 15, 2007

Joseph Cornell and me

One my earliest memories of going to the Art Institute of Chicago was going to see an exhibit of Joseph Cornell. His shadow boxes then were shown in this darkened room in a hidden corner of the Art Institute. I can remember how moody and dark it was - yet these shadow boxes even to me, a young child, were fun and playful. I am trying to make my own and I feel that they are unsucessful. I am struggling with new tools I received as Christmas presents that should be helping me make better shadow boxes and yet... And yet I'm stagnant and scared. Scared of making shit or worse of not making anything at all.

Sunday, January 14, 2007

Me, The Blob

I am sitting here on a lazy Sunday being a blob. Do I go out, go to an art gallery, a museum, a walk, nap. I just don't know. I am so indecisive.

So I thought if I paid homage to some great film blobs like the stinky brother in Weird Science, Jabba the Hut, the movie, The Blob, and a cute illustration of a blooooooob. It would be like praying to saints - I'd feel either more or less blobby. Oh great blobs, help me. Help me become even more stagnant or help me escape my blobdom. Blob blob blob.

Saturday, January 13, 2007

Yeah, babe

Male A-Hole: All right, we got it, buddy. Where ya wanna go, babe?

Female A-Hole: England.

Travel Agent: Okay, England's great, it's a big place. There's, uh, London. Brighton's very nice. Did you have someplace in mind?

Female A-Hole: I wanna go to Hogwarts.


Travel Agent: You mean from the Harry Potter books?

Male A-Hole: Yeah. You guys got trips on magic school?

Travel Agent: Sir... that's not a real place.

Male A-Hole: Mm-hm. All right. They don't go to there, babe. Probably gotta go online for that, right, somethin' like Orbitz or somethin'?

Travel Agent: NO, it's a fictional place. You cannot GO there.

Male A-Hole: Right, right, right, gotta wait till summer, the wizards are outta school, right?

Travel Agent: No, never. It's impossible. You can never go to Hogwarts; it doesn't exist.

Male A-Hole: It's invisible, right.

Travel Agent: Look, you obviously don't know where it is that you want to go, so why don't you go home, and think it over, and come back when you've made up your minds.

Female A-Hole: I wanna go there.

Travel Agent: Where?

Male A-Hole: Where ya wanna go, babe?

Female A-Hole: I wanna go there.

[She points to the wall behind the travel agent. CUT to a framed poster of an airliner in flight.]

Travel Agent: Ma'am, that's a poster of an airplane.

Female A-Hole: I know. I wanna go there.

Male A-Hole: Yeah, we wanna go there. How much?

Friday, January 12, 2007


"Come on," he said, "What freaky things do YOU want to do?"

You know the freaky things I want, but you'd be too scared.
"Not that little house, with the pine trees - aw shit, baby, that is way TOO freaky!"

Thursday, January 11, 2007

Big City

I had to get up and get my boobs mashed in a parking lot by the U. Or at the delightfully named Cancer Center. Uh um thanks. Geez, I hope not. It sucked - but the upside is that it only hurts for a bit. Alot of women don't get them for that few minutes of pain. I told the lady it would hurt alot more to get them cut off. She agreed.

I was up and out so I went to the allergist at the Medical Arts Building. I love that place, it has all sorts of gold accents and fixtures. That blue ceiling. You'd swear there were constellations in that ceiling (Right, Peter Lake!) And hidden away are these cool 3d letters. Anyway, walking around Minneapolis, it felt like I was in a bigger city, like New York. That energy, the sparkle. I was walking fast and no one could stop me. If the sun had been out, the sidewalk in front of the Hilton would've been sparkling. The only other place I've seen sidewalks like that is in New York. Says George Benson:
They say the neon lights are bright on Broadway
They say there's always magic in the air
But when you're walkin' down that street
And you ain't had enough to eat
The glitter rubs right off and you're nowhere

Wednesday, January 10, 2007


When I called to schedule my yearly mammogram I got a bit concerned, the OB-GYN receptionist said the mammograms are being done in a parking lot by the U. I'm just worried I'll be cold - being outside and shit. The guy looks like a real doctor, right? Oh wait, I am not that tall. I hope he can bend down.

As I type this, I hear Chevy Chase on Saturday Night Live saying, "Candygram" (hint hint)
or "Mammogram." You know - all deadpan.

Tuesday, January 09, 2007

Eve's Bayou

In the movie, Eve’s Bayou, Eve’s psychic aunt has a premonition
(I kept seeing you and someone by the sink.)
About some children dying near their house.
(It haunted me ever since you told me you were leaving.)
Eve and her sister and not allow to go out of the house for fear of death.
(I was so scared and angry.)
She and her sister are getting cagey.
(Is it just paranoia or would it really happen?)
A few days later, there’s a car crash and
I think some kids die or are hurt in the wreck.
(That kiss by the sink.)
Eve and her sister are ecstatic.
(And then all that anger and worry floated away)
They run outside and start dancing around.
Finally, the premonition came true.

Monday, January 08, 2007

Alive in the superunknown

There's this guy who calls me. When he calls, the Caller I.D. registers as unknown. When he called tonight, I had this song playing in my head. I tried to sing it quite unsuccessfully. And it fits at the moment. I have no idea what will become of us. I have my hopes and dreams. There was a really great dream last night like a Thomas Kinkade picture. Sappy as heck. I knew it was him with his pinstripe suit and red Chuck Taylors. I was dressed as a fairy barefoot and decked with flowers. Super and unknown.

Playing with my heart

Going to MCAD, I was in film 101. Usually you took your camera to a coffee shop. Shot your friends being assholes and then you played a Cure song to go along with it. Or as one girl did, shoot some totally out of focus shit and hand in the raw footage you just picked up from the camera store. The teacher was raving how cool it was as she told her friend sitting next to me, she didn't know how to focus the camera.

To be different, I had my dear friend, Ken, create some original music for my piece. We shot it out in Chaska in some abandoned creepy hospital. It was about 30˚ and I froze my ass off. Ken remembered some of the cool shots.
Lately, Ken was bugging me to dig it up. I realized at some point I had it transferred to 3/4 tape. I don't know when. It was synced up with his sound and everything. I was scared to watch it - would it be great or a piece of shit. I think it's even better than I remember. I am really proud of it. Dearest Ken has a 3/4 deck and he did the transfer to digital. He even had the soundtrack in his collection. I'm glad he kicked my ass to find it and I kicked his ass to digitize it. Yeah, team!

And watch his tribute to Sean Connery. I love it.

Sunday, January 07, 2007


Norman Rockwell Hanukkah
My friends were asking me what I was doing for Christmas, would I go visit my parents or my sister. No. I would be spending Christmas in a Catholic Worker house. I grew up in Jewish house. And we barely celebrated any Jewish holidays. My dad would say we were food Jews – only celebrating holidays that included food like Passover and Chanukah. Maybe because we were barley Jewish was why I craved some sort of real holiday tradition. I ached for a Norman Rockwell Christmas. Until my teens, my dad was involved with his plastics company, and every winter holiday time, he’d drag us to some South American company to sell plastics. It also made for a nice vacation. But it’s hard to celebrate any winter holiday when it’s 90ยบ out and you’re in some weird country.

I eventually married a Catholic man with a big family. He took me to his mom’s house in St Paul and there in the living room was a huge tree with those big old-fashioned lights on it. They even had a fireplace. My eyes welled up. It was perfect. I celebrated quite a few Christmases in that house. The one downfall was seeing the ton of gifts each kid got. They’d get all wound up, tear open the presents and cry about the ones they didn’t get. I’ve seen that scene repeated in many different family occasions. I’ve seen some really cynical kids tear open the wrappings, give almost a yawn and go on the next present. No excitement, no glee, they’d add it to their monstrous pile. Great.

For the past few years, I’ve been going to a Catholic Worker house. It’s a sort of homeless shelter. They invite past guests, their kids and people of the community. There’s a big dinner with all the trimmings. Then a great Santa, with a real beard comes from upstairs. He rings his sleigh bells and descends the staircase. All the children gathered there look up in awe. “Santa, Santa, Santa!!!” Each person there gets a gift. The volunteers try to find something the guests really need or want. And the looks on everyone’s faces are priceless. Everyone enjoys the few things they get and doesn’t lament the things they didn’t. I saw two women drape the new handmade blankets they received around their shoulders like super hero capes. “Is this mine? Is this really mine, do I really get to keep it?” They asked this over and over – incredulous. They told stories of sharing only one toy or of having nothing. And they’re amazed at this bounty of riches. And they get to keep it. I think that’s what Christmas is all about.

Saturday, January 06, 2007

At a dark bar in Minneapolis

dark bar
Originally uploaded by NYC Tom.

On a lonely Thursday night
Six hours
$80 bar tab
Balled up napkins

Old wounds

I’m sorry she’s so immature.
I’m sorry he’s confused.

Maybe she’ll come back.
Maybe he’ll figure it out.
And we wait.

Friday, January 05, 2007

Houston, do you read me?

Apollo liquors superette

No reentering ship has ever
taken longer than three
minutes to emerge from blackout.
This is the critical moment.

Will the heat shield hold?
Will the command module
survive the intense
heat of reentry?
If it doesn't,
there'll only be silence.

Flight, that's three minutes.

We are standing by for acquisition.

Copy that.

Odyssey, Houston.
Do you read me?
Odyssey, this is Houston.
Do you read?

Expected time of reacquisition,
the time when the astronauts...
were expected to come out of blackout,
has come and gone.
But all any of us can do now
is just listen and hope.
We're about to learn whether or
not that heat shield,
which was damaged, as you remember,
by the explosion three days ago,
has withstood the inferno of reentry.

Odyssey,this is Houston.
Do you read me?
Do you read me?

Three minutes, 30 seconds.
Standing by.

Do you read?
Odyssey,this is Houston.
Do you read me?

That's four minutes,
and standing by.

Odyssey, uh, Houston.
Do you read?

Hello, Houston.
This is Odyssey.
It's good to see ya again.

Welcome home.
We're glad to see ya.

From the movie, Apollo 13

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

Radio Silence - Observe

I have to take my computer in for repair. Sadly, I will observing radio silence for how long - I don't know.

That expression is also used in films when everyone has to shut off their walkie talkies. I always loved when they'd announce radio silence.

Monday, January 01, 2007

Blueberries (for Grandpa)

This is a great book I don't think I owned. I read it in school. And the illustrations are great.
Since the book is about a girl looking for blueberries I thought it fit well.

When I was young - many Friday nights, until my grandpa died, were spent at my grandparent's bungalow in Chicago. We would celebrate Shabbat. My grandparents lit candles and said the prayers. My grandma would serve dessert on square, blue glass plates. I have similar plates as an homage to her. Right before we would leave for the long trek home, grandpa would run and get us a jar of his, "grandpa's blueberry jelly." It really was jam. Why we said jelly, I don't know. Jelly is made from the juice and jam from the whole fruit - which is what he made. At one point, Grandpa got his wild blueberries from what he said "the hillbillies of Indiana." That's one story. He made it himself and it was heaven. If we stayed overnight at my grandparents house, we'd wake up and have his fresh squeezed orange juice, whole wheat bread, cream cheese and grandpa's jelly. I'd watch him spread the cream cheese and jelly really thin. Delicious. He was always in good shape and athletic. I think of how thin he spread everything.

After he died, I begged my mom to carry on the tradition. A few years later, she found a place that had good blueberries and she started making the jam. My sister, a chef, makes a mean jam but my mom thinks hers is better! If they both want to send me jars and have me do a taste test - well then! Actually, they're both very good.

When I smell the whole wheat bread toasting and I get out the jam, it brings back sweet memories of my grandpa who's been gone since 1977.