This afternoon my co-worker and I were walking across the street to get lunch. On most days, I’d say eating is a real pain in the ass. Sometimes I wish I had just eaten so I could stop thinking about eating and move on with my goddamn life. You realize we have to eat EVERY DAY, like every four hours? That’s insane. It’s really taxing. You know, I’m kind of busy and I occasionally have shit to do, so eating gets in the way of me sometimes doing things. I realize there are people who don’t get to eat every day, so I should feel grateful, but you know what? I’m an asshole. Eating takes up time and energy and especially in New York, it takes up money. Dude, not even kidding you, I just spent $11 on a sandwich and a salad and no, I did not get a mouth boner from it.

Fact: the second worst question you can ever ask me is, “Where do you want to eat?” (The first is “Can I sleep with your mother?” Obvz.)

So anyway, my co-worker and I are crossing the street. It is raining. And this guy walks up to us and says, “hey” and we are like, “uh, hey.” It is true that people in New York do not like strangers saying “hey.” If we liked that then we would be living in Minneapolis where apparently everyone says “hey” and probably hug and invite each other over for dinner at their nana’s house to watch the Packers play the Knicks or whatever. I don’t follow hockey. Anyway the guy says, “I’m a recruiter for Hollister, would you be interested in being models?”

Now there are a few scenarios here:

1. We say yes. They take photos of us wearing something with seagulls on it and flip flops. Two things, by the way, I do not approve of. We get really famous and quit our jobs to be models for Hollister making whatever it is models make. No idea, but they save a lot of money since they don’t eat (which would solve one of my problems, see above).

2. We say yes. They take photos of us. But it turns out we’re the “before” photos. The “after” photos are two hot models probably from the Ukraine or Belarus with a combined weight equivalent of one, single zucchini. The “before” photos make it to some snarky site where we are berated for being totally average. They make fun of my hair, which I forgot to brush this morning. The good news is that we are not wearing flip flops.

3. We say no.

Guess which one we chose?

But really, I have no idea what this recruiter was up to, because if you saw us, you would not think Hollister. You would think we were more appropriate models for a store that makes clothes for tired, possibly hungover employees. Not sure what the clothes would look like, but they’d definitely be pre-worn.

I can see! I can see! My glasses arrived in the mail and I got lenses and now I can see. The gift of sight is a precious gift, remember that. I was using my old glasses before which had severely scuffed lenses so it was like seeing through a tub of vasoline. Also the bridge was cracked and a piece of plastic kept stabbing me on my nose. But now, when I DO see a girl wearing my glasses at yoga, I’m going to cut her. Look, I am not afraid to cut a bitch. You best stay out of SoHo.

So I get this call from my mother. She says, hey, what are you doing? I’m like well, it’s Wednesday afternoon I am at the office like a normal person so why are you calling me now, why can’t you call me at night like normal parents and not bug me during regular business hours. I’m not even sure why I pick up her phone calls during the workday. I guess a small part of me thinks that if a parent is calling during 9 to 5 I should pick it up because OMG WHAT IF IT’S AN EMERGENCY. Because really most parents only call during 9 to 5 if there’s some grave, illy shit, right? Not mine. This is what my mom thinks: Hmm, I am stuck in traffic. Let’s see, who can I call to pass the time? I know, I will call Annie because it is Wednesday at 2 pm, it’s not like she will be busy. And even though I know that this is what my mother is thinking, I still pick up her phone calls because I still think she is capable of normalcy and is in fact desperately trying to contact me because someone we know got into a horrific car crash or someone we know died or someone we know has fallen ill with Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. But no, she is just calling to say hello and I end up getting annoyed because dude, I’m at the office.

So she says, to celebrate our 40th wedding anniversary, we’re going to Italy! And I’m like OMG that’s so awesome because seriously my parents never go anywhere other than Seoul. Once they went to Santa Barbara and that was pretty exciting for them. So I’m like oh shit you’re gonna love Italy. You have to be a real asshole not to love Italy. Which is to say even my grumpy father will love Italy. So I ask, hey, when are you leaving?

She says, oh we’re at the airport now.

We have a 4-hour layover in Philadelphia, why don’t you come meet us?

It turns out that Philadelphia is not actually the same as New York City. They are, in fact, in two different states. It takes a few hours to get to Philadelphia, depending on what mode of transport you use, train, bus, car, surrey. I explain this to my mother, who says, but it’s close. You should meet us. I’m like I can’t just meet you at the Philadelphia airport. This is not like swinging by the grocery store on my way home, you crazy person. And she says,

I can’t believe you are not going to meet your parents in Philadelphia. I can’t believe it.

And she does that tsk tsk tsk thing. That is the sound of disappointment: tsk tsk tsk.

I’m like, woman, Philadelphia is far, I don’t even know where the Philly airport is and it’s not like they will let me meet you at the gate to just chill like a gangsta, we live in a post 9-11 world and in addition, I fucking hate airports, and OH YEAH IT’S WEDNESDAY AT 2 PM. I’m WORKING for fuck’s sake.

Language! You talk like that at work?

She says, can’t you just take the subway. And I have to explain uh the subway does not go to Philadelphia and she’s like you know what I mean, can’t you take the train? And I’m like sure I can take the train but WHY WOULD I, once again it is Wednesday at 2 pm, I have like 4 more hours of work.

So she says OH gotta go, our plane is boarding.

Yay family.

No glasses = sad times. I called the yoga studio and went back and looked again. I also left a note on my cubbyhole asking people to look in their holes, which incidentally your mom also said last night. Your mom says a lot of stuff, turns out. So I just resolved myself at the fact that some bitch took my glasses and is now wearing them and being an epic asshole and everyone is probably saying to her, oh wow, those glasses look great, which is what everyone used to tell me, and then later, when she gets home, she will die in a grease fire. OK fine, she won’t die, but maybe she’ll lose all of her stuff and then know what it feels like to get shit taken from her.

I keep wondering why ANYONE would steal fucking GLASSES. It’s like stealing crutches. Stealing glasses means that you are leaving someone BLIND. That is effed. Like I understand stealing sunglasses, maybe. Especially if they aren’t prescription, you can just wear them. Easy, like your mom. I can understand stealing money, so you can go buy drinks and be a fucknut in some shit bar. I can understand stealing credit cards. Sure, I get all of that. But stealing glasses? You’d have to get lenses made for them, which costs about $50 – $100 in NY. So stealing is hardly worth it. The whole point of stealing is that it’s FREE. So anyway, someone stole my vision and my sense of general well being at the moment.

But there is some good news.

My old frames were the king shit of fuck mountain of glasses. Some of you may remember how AWESOME they looked on my face. They were also vintage. A while back I bought a pair at a store in the East Village, wore them to death, and then they started cracking and I STARTED TO FREAK OUT. So I went back to the store and looked for a new pair of glasses knowing that it was a longshot. I mean what are the chances of finding the same pair of vintage glasses from the 60s, right? Then HOLY SHIT found the SAME PAIR just in a different color. I was like this HAS to be once in a lifetime thing. What are the odds, man. So the store owner tells me he gets the glasses from this guy in Germany. This German bought up thousands of overstock glasses from some IRS seizure of a warehouse in White Plains, NY. So now the German sells lots to this vintage store in the city. That’s the backstory. SO I bought the same glasses again and CONTINUED TO BE A BOSS.

Now after losing the second pair again, I think WHAT ARE THE FUCKING chances of finding them a THIRD time?

I looked on the Ebay and FOUND THEM AGAIN. Not only did I find one, I found THREE. THREE PAIRS, same glasses, different colors. Overstock vintage. And guess where the seller is? Germany.

So, I bought two pairs. I’m going to staple them TO MY FUCKING FACE and if someone even comes close to them I will hose them with mace. And if you see some ho wearing my old glasses, call me and I will go rough a bitch up with thunder and lightning.

So today I go to yoga. Because I want to, you know, “step into the flow of the universe” and “align mind, body, spirit” and “be what is” (whatever that means). So I go to the studio and take the mat out of my cubbyhole. Then I place my glasses inside my cubbyhole. This is what I do. I put my glasses there so I don’t have to wear them while I get all namasté. I also put them there so no one steps on them. Because what would happen if someone stepped on my glasses? Bad things. Bad, bad things. Might involve some crying. Perhaps some bloody feet too. Point is, I put my glasses in my cubbyhole. I’ve been doing this for years.

So today, I come out of my class, go put my mat back and my glasses are not in my cubbyhole. I think hmm, maybe I put it in the wrong hole, which incidentally is what your mom said last night. So I look in other cubbyholes. Nothing. So I look in the bathroom. Nothing. Then the locker room–perhaps I left it on a counter. Nothing. So then I START TO FUCKING PANIC. Because why? I have no glasses. It is very hard for me to see because, you see, I need glasses to see. I do understand there is quite a bit of irony in trying to LOOK FOR SOMETHING while one is blind. So I go up the front desk and ask, hey, maybe someone turned in some glasses. And they say nope, nothing here. And I go, OK, well I’m missing some glasses and a kind lady comes and helps me search the other cubbyholes because oh right I’M FUCKING BLIND.

So it dawns on me, I guess they might be stolen. FUCKING STOLEN.

WHO STEALS FUCKING GLASSES? WHAT ASSHOLE LOOKS AT A PAIR OF GLASSES AND SAYS OH YEAH I WANT THIS. I’M GOING TO TAKE THIS AND HA HA HA TO THE BLIND FUCK WHO WILL CONTINUE TO BE BLIND AND IN ADDITION, CONTINUE TO BE A FUCK. That is a shit move. A fucking low blow. I’m trying not to jump to conclusions. I am trying to think that someone accidentally picked them up from MY cubbyhole (they are assigned) and accidentally thought this sweet pair of glasses was theirs and accidentally brought them home. This is what I’m hoping. But the New Yorker in me knows that some FUCKING ASSWAD has stolen my glasses. Which, by the way, are EXTREMELY awesome looking and vintage and one of a kind and everyone loves them, and apparently someone loves them enough to STEAL them. But for WHAT? Why would you do that? If I see some bitch in the yoga studio with my glasses on I will fucking cut the shit out of her.

And really, who steals at a YOGA studio? Have you not learned anything from YOGA? So while people are meditating and nailing their revolved triangles and feeling at peace, some dickless asshole is LOOKING THROUGH PEOPLE’S SHIT and taking their prescription glasses? WHAT? WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT? I guarantee this shitbag does not have the SAME EYESIGHT as me. My left eyeball is SQUISHED and the right eye is like basically perfect. So what are you going to use my glasses for? WHAT. To ‘look smart’ while you….do what? Go to a bookstore? A bookstore you will steal from because if you steal from a fucking YOGA studio you’re certainly going to steal from a bookstore. Why not go to the pre-school and steal their crayons? Might as well right? Everyone loves crayons.

So I had to walk home blind, at night. I had to walk really slowly because I don’t know if you ever notice how blind people walk very slowly, but they do this because they do not want to TRIP over shit or BUMP into shit or even GET HIT by a VEHICLE. So that is what I did. I should also add it was POURING rain and I’m walking like a blind geriatric with a club foot.

BLIND FURY YOU GUYS. LITERAL BLIND FURY.

I’m still here! I’ve been waiting over an hour for a trial to start, but it’s taking forever because…I have no idea. I want to cry. Inside I am crying. It’s a lot like being in detention, but we didn’t do anything wrong. Endless waiting in a room with no windows, except there’s a TV that’s on mute and playing CNN. The jury clerk said there was no ESPN, and there was an audible gasp. Seriously. You’d think it was some sort of national tragedy. Civic duty, while important for a just society, is really beginning to make me wish we were in the “olden days” (again, their words, not mine, I would’ve used “days of yore”) when we could just throw people into a river or a fire. So much more convenient, and everyone loves a good fire. Just saying. Maybe they are settling? Settle, dammit! Settling isn’t always bad. For example, the pioneers settled, and that worked out for us, though not the Native Americans. But, in general I fully support settling so I can go about my day and hopefully eat a sandwich. It’s 11:30 and I want a sandwich!

There are a lot of people asleep here, including one lady wearing sunglasses (again, we are in a room without windows) and sprawled across a row of chairs. With her jacket covering her and her purse as a pillow. She looks so snug. I may spoon her.

One guy is totally bored, gazing at the ceiling, mouth agape, just fully hating life. I want to take a photo, but i’d get arrested, which woikd be convenient since I’m already at the courthouse. You’d think he’d bring a book. I was thinking of offering him my copy of The Economist, like hey, guy, why don’t you read about some people with real problems. Also, their captions are so pithy!

I’m going to share a few memorable people who are here with me in the jury pool. Here they are in no particular order:

Lady wearing leggings as pants. Which means that she is not really wearing pants. In a courthouse. She is also wearing a lot of make-up and sneakers. So her face looks like she’s going to hit the clubs later, but the rest of he might be going to the gym and hitting the elliptical? I dunno it’s confusing.

Man wearing POWA SUIT. Navy suit with pink shirt and a headset. He is in “acquisitions”. Not entirely sure what he
acquires, other than money. But he is important, and also has hair that looks like he didn’t do much to it, but you know he spent hours on that shit and billed it to a client.

A hairdresser! Who works around the corner from my office! Immediately after he said he was a stylist, everyone touched their hair (except me, actually, only because my hair is so fucking awesome, in a greasy ponytail, natch!)

A lady who coordinates scavenger hunts. Seriously that is what she does. But I’m guessing what she really wants to do is direct.

A talent agent. A math teacher. A former corrections officer. An actress. A retired social worker. A guy who ships art to museums. A person who sued because of curtains. A person who can only understand 70-80% of
what’s going on. Dude I love NYC. I’m like you guys are all so interesting and all so bored and hating life right now. It’s our civic duty!

So I got chosen for a case, of course, and the lawyer does this weird breathing thing where she gulps for air through an open mouth. She looks like a fish. Like a lawyer fish. She told us “This won’t be like the OJ Simpson case or anything.” OH REALLY?

So I’m returning tomorrow. Bad for life. Good for blog. I guess.

I’m here live blogging from the jury pool where I am currently watching a twenty minute video about the history of
the court system. The opening sequence happens in “olden times” (their words, not mine) where a bunch of Medieval barbarians with beards and pelts drown a man. Not even kidding. The mob ties his ass up and throws him in a river and then everyone cheers. Seriously. This is actually on the video. And you know everyone is thinking, wow, watching this video is a lot like watching someone die, it is so horrible.

Then the rest of the video is hosted by people with incredible amounts of gravitas, including DIANE SAWYER and one of the old dudes from 60 Minutes. Doesn’t matter which one. It’s an assemble cast, obvs.

The video was made in the 90s and there’s some excellent hair and the fashunz and Diane particularly has some savage anchor hair. She seriously has a Lego head. Shit won’t move. It’s some kind of science miracle.

Also, the Jury Clerk keeps making jokes about how the state has no money and asks for donated pens and pencils for people to fill out the surveys. Then it dawns on me that he’s actually serious. Yay New York. Sad tear.

And now a Chinese lady asked me to translate for her. This is going to be a long day.

Last time I served, I was selected for a child predator case. I got removed from the group though. But the defendant was there and all I could think was ohhhhhh hmm, that is what a predator look like. He did not have a moustache. I know, I was surprised too.

I have been trolling Craigslist for a new apartment. I have been doing this for…eight years. Yes, I have been trying to leave my apartment for eight years. That’s not really the point though of this post (it is the point of many other posts, just not this one). So, I found a post on Craigslist, about an apartment up the street. I wrote an email, hey is it still available? And this is the response:

Dear Applicant,

The apartment is still available for rent and as furnished or unfurnished there is a storage room in the unit where you can keep our furniture, my husband and i are the owner of the apartment located at ([Dedacted] New York NY 10012).

Let me tell you little about us. My husband is currently working(A permanent Job in United Kingdom, Where he work with Coca-Cola company in London) I was working as a Medical Doctor here in the state but i finally lost my Job on the month of Jan 18th 2010 due to the accident I had during the envy snow, the accident which almost destroyed most part of my body especially my legs, but I thank God today that I am still alive and i can at least walk again…but I can’t talk very well cos the shock are still in my body according to my Doctor, the best way I can communicate is through writing but I believe with God all things are possible, I have the faith in him that I will be healed perfectly it is just a matter of time.

I just relocate to live with my husband cos my doctor said i need his care, maybe he can help me get well soon.
Anyway, my husband his a very busy man that’s why i told him that i will find a nice,honest and responsible person for this our lovely home It has been a hard time for us.

The apartment is $1,350 per month we are asking for 1 month rent and security deposit $1,350. it comes with all utilities Like + Gas, water and electric, dishwasher and microwave and Laundry. A parking space is available.

The kind of tenant we want is A responsible person, serious and trust worthy, who is willing to pay 1 month rent and a security deposit (your credit does not matter to us). Also someone that can take care of the kitchen, because i loves the kitchen very much…

I know you will like to see the unit that not a problem because my husband still need to Pick up some things from the Unit and some documentation in a few days. HE WISH TO USE THE OPPORTUNITY TO SHOW THE UNIT.

NOTE: IF YOU ARE REALLY INTERESTED KINDLY FILL OUT THIS GAP PLS IS VERY IMPORTANT AS A CANDIDATE FOR THIS APARTMENT.

Applicant Full Name:…………………….

Profession:…………………………….

Number of Adults:…………

Number of Children:…………

Pets:………………………

Cell Phone:……………………..

Present Address:………………………………………………..

Calling from a Home Phone: Dial 01144 702 409 4702 or Calling from a Cell Phone: Dial +44 702 409 4702

Regards and God bless
Mary E Knox.

Hahahaha!!!! I love it! I’ve gotten a few of these responses via Craiglist, but this one is probably my favorite thus far. First, I love that this apartment comes with a PARKING SPACE. Yes in SoHo! For only $1350!!! In addition to the dishwasher and microwave. And of course the storage unit. For only $1350!!!! If you are going to steal all or part of my money, I want you to be better at it. I mean COME ON. Be fucking realistic here. She should’ve said, “small, cozy apartment, steps to subway, five floor walk-up but well worth it.” That is a little more realistic, no?

But, what I really love is the fucking amazing story regarding the accident during the ‘envy snow.” ENVY SNOW!!!! I don’t even know what that is, but it sounds like a bad ass Japanese movie from the 60s where the heroine is carrying out some sort of rape revenge. Envy Snow!!!!! Fuck, I love it. I want to do envy snow angels in the envy snow. Then all the non-envy snow will feel jealous, which I suppose would make that envy snow too.

So, I’m actually considering going through the next step and seeing how it all plays out. Just because I am curious, especially in regards to Envy Snow.

Remember, “with God all things are possible” which includes stealing your money.

This afternoon, I got a wrong number. It was a little kid, totally babbling and going da daaaa? Da daaaa? Total drunk dial. He was like “OMG I just wanted to tell you-hiccup-that I like toootttallly dig youuuuu—hiccup—I mean you’re—hiccup—so aweesommmee, you know that? Oh shiiittt I’m sooo waassstteeedddd. Sooo fuckked up!”

But really, I ended up just hanging up on the kid because there’s not much you can say to a three year old who has drunk dialed you. Yes, I am a person who hangs up on children. Better than a person who hangs children, am I right, guys?

Hey friends!

Check out White Zinfandel, which came out this week. I have a piece in there. Looks hot right? Right?

The concept of the journal is this: take a menu (in this case, it’s Food, a restaurant by Gordon Matta-Clark in 1971), assign dishes to a bunch of people, and see what they come up with. Then, have a fancy ass dinner somewhere fancy ass with a fancy ass chef and fancy ass people. Let me tell you, my ass is fucking fancy as shit. The item assigned to me was corn and flour tortillas. Yes, this was apparently on the menu. Just corn and flour tortillas. My friends Marco and Lizzie got “velvet chicken.” The fancy ass chef was Jonathan Ory from Momofuku Ko. He did not make velvet chicken. Or tortillas, in case you were wondering.

White Zinfandel is available at really really really hip and styley and trendo places, which, surprisingly are not in Brooklyn, but in Manhattan: New Museum, Creatures of Comfort, Project No. 8. Probably places online too, I’ll update it here when I figure that out! Woo hoot!

Oh hai, it got a little holla from Interview magazine.