Monthly Archives: April 2009

mood: solitude

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San Miguel While on my New Mexico adventure I went to San Miguel Church with Dawg. While there I was sitting quietly but there were women chattering around me, complaining that they had been incorrectly told by someone not employed by the church that they could not take photos of the inside. I did my introverted-bordering-on-autistic “thing” of quickly standing up and running off without any warning and moved several rows back. I happened to land directly in front of Dawg, but I faced forward. Dawg and I sat in silence, our silence completely separate even though I was near him. I felt at peace. I had no plans of ever getting up from that spot. But the church was about to close and so we had to go.

I’ve thought about that quiet time a lot since. I’m not sure what I think about it specifically. I don’t want to go to church for The Church Part, but in a city that never sleeps it’s really nice to have a place of solitude without being alone.

Today’s good deed done before 9am

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While sleepily riding the pole into Manhattan I heard sneezing through my earphones — petite, surprised sneezes that I thought were a woman’s. At the next stop I opened my eyes out of courtesy for those getting off then on the train and saw a man sitting in the seat next to the door trying his very hardest not to sneeze anymore. One got away from him and I stared politely (there is such a thing) to see if he had a tissue; he did, but it was the most pathetic, busted ass tissue I’d seen in a while, used about 20 times too many, and a long string of nose glop stuck between his nose and his hand. I started quietly giggling and reached into my bag. As the train came to a stop I walked over to the man whose eyes were closed, tapped him on the arm, and handed over my package of travel-sized tissues. He nodded and took the package then I hopped off the train, my 7 Ave / 53 St stop.

I am the angel of tissues. :)

Back to reality

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Back home in NYC, and it’s awesome to be back. We had a recap show last night and I am still uploading photos because flickr uploadr is extremely unreliable. Who’da thunk. Check my stream to keep seeing more photos. I have a Santa Fe set and a Food of of TC09 set that are both filling in nicely. I didn’t add any more pics to the BeerHer set but there are a few more in the TC09 set which I’ll move to the TC09 group later. Thanks again to all the planners: Jenny, Dave2, Vahid, Brandon, and Dustin! I am late for work so linking… yah, linking.

Happy Tuesday!

It was the best of times, it was the … BEST OF TIMES.

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BeerHer and TequilaCon 2009 fucking rocked.

Well, that was short and sweet!

Poppy's buttons... A few of the 700+ photos I took this weekend are up on flickr, but the rest will go up sometime over the week. BeerHer is here, TC09 is here. And that sunburn I’m sporting at TC09 is all to be blamed on The Cross of the Martyrs. Damn martyrs… hehehe. Other stuff we did this weekend: Relax at the outdoor fireplace with my friends, visit Loretto and San Miguel churches, eat a fucking fantastic chile relleno burrito at The Plaza, watch pigeons, have a weird experience at the Georgia O’Keefe Museum so that Dawg refused to go in but I went for a 10 minute lookaround, visit the Five and Dime about 5 or 10 times, and eat wonderful-to-me pizza at The Upper Crust across from The Pink Adobe (next to San Miguel Mission). Good stuff. The perfect weekend. It is so absolutely gorgeous here. Visit before you bite it.

conscious conscience

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Dawg and I went for a walk in the park Sunday and we happened upon a dead goat. A ritual. So very unprecariously placed. Laid out and arranged with such purpose. Eyes wide open. Calm, unharmed in spirit. But picked clean. That is someone’s worship. My worship is to capture the image.

I felt completely fine with taking the photos, because I secretly have an interest in taking photos of death, but when it came to putting the photos online I was so worried about you, the observer, what would happen if you saw them or you and your child were casually viewing my set and stumbled upon the images… but in the end I felt like I owed it to that goat to pass on his personal sacrifice. So, here are the images, uploaded only to my blog:

 goat-1

goat-2 goat-3
goat-4 goat-5

For a hi-res photo go see Dawg’s flickr.

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The lack of words here mean absolutely nothing. No bad things are happening with me. Life is not dull. I’m just not inspired to sit down and write. I apologize to those of you who use this site to check in with me. Feel free to email me instead! Or read my tweets, facebook status, or flickr captions. I did post a YouTube video, but I think it was probably very dull so I won’t bother linking it here.

Ok, bye! Happy weekend!

check, no wreck

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Sometimes in the morning when the bathroom, and therefore its mirror, is occupado I will use Photo Booth on my Mac to check my hair and outfit. Today was one of those days, and here are the results:

photo-382 photo-383
photo-384 photo-385

Yah, I checked my ass. WHAT.

Aside from the weird crotch bunching, I am a fan of this outfit.

In other words (than my own, but close enough)

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Here is the article from New York Magazine. I’m not in that main photo, though, because as expected they cut off large chunks of it. I am, however, in the slide show. Keep in mind that it rained all that day when you see my photo. And keep in mind that I was laughing about standing on a ramp against a wall. Who puts a ramp against a wall? What’s the purpose of that? To make me laugh?

Apparently most people move to NY for career or love. And it’s clearly stated in my paraphrased word bite under my photo: Me too. 9-5 I’m here for my job, 5-9 I’m here for my man. I also said I was in love with the city, but apparently that wasn’t a cool enough quote. :)

zombreviation FTW!

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zombiegrrrrrl I have a really funny story about me walking around work like a zombie in my black pants, black tee, grey 3/4 sleeve shirt, and my black sneakers because my left foot hurt until the IT director asked me what was wrong and I told him I was doing my Shaun of the Dead impression so he gave me an ace bandage and I swapped over to my boots, but I’m too tired to tell it.