New neighbors moved into the unit across the alleyway from me. So we are in two different buildings, but they are basically next door to me. If I go out onto my fire escape, I can almost touch their fire escape. That is how close we are to each other. We could set up cute little sytrofoam cup phones. That’d be cute right? Not really. Styrofoam is bad for the environment. Our beds face each other. Like! At camp! They are practically my roommates. Except they are not. Because they suck. That is not to say a roommate cannot suck, but if my roommates sucked, I’d totally throw them out of my house. I’d probably get all dramatic too, like throw their clothes out the window. I’ve always wanted to do that. It’s like a dream of mine. GET! OUT! OF! MY! HOUSE! And then there’s this cascade of clothes and bad CDs and random sporting equipment and maybe a TV if it’s not too heavy. The point is, my neighbors are NOT my roommates and I cannot throw my neighbors out of their house, which is sad, because I really want to.

They moved in weeks ago and didn’t have curtains. NO CURTAINS! Ladies and gentlemen, CURTAINS are among the FIRST things you put up. Curtains and toilet paper. Everything else you can do later. But you NEED curtains (especially if you live in NYC and you can touch your neighbor’s fire escape). And, of course, you NEED toilet paper. I cannot say for sure if my neighbors have toilet paper. I mean, they may not. I don’t know. If they don’t have curtains, why would they have toilet paper? But I can definitely confirm that THEY DID NOT HAVE CURTAINS.

So I did all these passive aggressive things like walking past MY window so it is obvious that YES NEIGHBOR YOU CAN SEE ME WHICH MEANS I CAN SEE YOU! OMG! And then I modeled good behavior by closing my curtains. OMG NOW I CAN’T SEE YOU! RAD! YOU GUYS SHOULD REALLY GET ON THIS CURTAIN THING. IT’S THE BUSINESS. So for weeks, I’d see my neighbors spooning or whatever, etc. Really awkward. It’s like coming home and finding strangers spooning on your bed. Like. Dudes. That’s.. my bed.

Fast forward to a few days ago. Neighbors! Got! Curtains! Joyous! Celebration! Balance was restored. Now we can both trade off having them open. That is what I did with my previous neighbor Monsieur European-Underwear Man. That is another story for another day.

So then, today, I come home. My curtains happened to be open. And there I see my neighbors. Having sex. Loud sex. With. Their. Curtains. Open.

So what I’m trying to say, is that my neighbors do not know how to use curtains.

Also I’m trying to say that my neighbors do not understand the value and sanctity of private space in the City of New York. Or they just don’t care that they are having sex in my apartment. MY apartment! Strangers! Having sex! In my apartment! Seriously, I just washed those sheets, too.

Also I’m trying to say is that what I have seen cannot be undone. There is no control-Z (command-Z if you are on a mac) FOR MY EYEHOLES.

Hello friends, happy New Year!

People have been saying LET’S MAKE THIS THE BEST YEAR EVER! And this is all peachy fine. HOWEVER, I’m thinking why should we make this year the BEST EVER? Why not just make it NOT suck? It’s not that I’m a pessimistic person. I’m just more into setting goals that are achievable. I mean BEST year? How can you possibly know that this year will be the BEST EVER? I mean you haven’t lived all your years yet, so “BEST” is kind of a hard thing to judge. This year might be the SECOND best or THIRD best. I mean maybe in five years you will have a really really awesome year and THAT will be much better than this year. So what I’m trying to say is that let’s just make this year not suck and it will bound to be better than 2009, and, quite possibly, the best, but it certainly doesn’t have to be THE BEST. If 2010 is better than 2009, then we can be happy with better. We can be happy that it doesn’t suck because honestly, not sucking is truly a big accomplishment and we can be proud of that. I’m already proud that 2010 is not sucking, erego, I have achieved my New Years’ resolution of not sucking. DONE AND DONE.

Also, I’ve also noticed everyone saying how 2009 was truly the WORST year ever. Again, you have no way of judging that. There might be really really shitty years to come. Also, I can think of a few other years that sucked more than 2009. The year was BAD, maybe, but it wasn’t THAT bad. I mean it sucked, yes, but I thought 2008 was actually worse. There were probably some years during the 50s that sucked too. I bet you year 1 sucked too. Transitional year and the whole year-re-numbering thing probably was a real pain in the ass. Like you know how after daylight savings you get all confused? I rest my case.

Los Angeles was fun blah blah blah except for the part where my family forgot to pick me up from the airport blah blah blah. It was like 3:00 on Christmas and I get off the plane and I’m like YEAHH I’M PARTYING IN THE CITY OF ANGELS! I go outside, call to see where my ride is and my mother’s like “Airport? Is that now?” And then I fall into some insane rage and I’m like did you FORGET TO PICK ME UP FROM THE AIRPORT and my mother says I didn’t forget to pick you up from the airport, I just thought you were coming at 3:30. And I say no, it was always 3:00. Keep in mind that my parents live about 45 minutes from the airport (WITHOUT traffic) so even if she thought it was at 3:30, she should definitely be ON the frickin road by 3:00. Which she was not. And she starts backpedalling and being like, no actually you’re brother is picking you up. And I’m like oh is he already here? And she says no he just left. Sigh. So I spent a good 45 minutes hanging out at the airport and suffering from acute rage. Yay. I love Christmas. So of course I’m at the airport yelling on the phone being like why do I bother even coming here for Christmas. Why don’t I just come another time when it is easier and cheaper to travel, we don’t even celebrate Christmas, it is just like any other day in our family. And then I realize I’m totally that asshole who is yelling on the phone at the airport on Christmas. And people are like all staring at me and my eyes are like spinning in my head and smoke is coming out of my ears. The works. Then my brother picked me and I said don’t you guys realize that if you fuck up I’ll write about it? Have we not learned anything? And he says no, do you have $2 for parking I have no cash on me.

But the rest of my vacation was rad and did not suck! Mission accomplished! My bandmate Andy Burne got engaged to his ladyfriend Julia! Nathan and his ladyfriend are coming to visit in February! I saw the Bauhaus show at Moma! I got cushions for my shoes! My apartment is really clean! And according to the Weather Channel “It feels like 1°F”!

Also, please note that Annietown has migrated. Things should be all awesome on your end. One of my best friends in L.A. Micah is taking over and hosting Annietown from his living room which may or may not have mice. Special thanks to Ravi who has been hosting the past 2 years and being a good sport about my asshole texts at 3 am OMG RAVI ANNIETOWN IS DOWN. Ravi I love you and you continue to be awesome and full of win and bacon, you’re two favorite things. Now Micah will be my bitch.

Micah! Fix my sidebar! (uh when you get the chance?)

I’m considering doing a redesign of Annietown. Part of me is like, why change it? It’s fine, it doesn’t have to be fancypants, I’m just sharing WORDZ here, not doing anything insane. Then the other part of me is like, well I could make it snazzier? i.e. HAVE MORE EXPLOSIONS. I shall ruminate.

I am currently cleaning THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF MY APARTMENT. It’s a big Korean/Asian thing to clean THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF YOUR HOME to usher (Usher!!!) the New Year. Since I’m leaving for California tomorrow, I have to clean THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF MY APARTMENT now before I leave.

I have made…some archeological discoveries whilst cleaning, I will share them with you because I love you all and I think it’s important that you understand what I have discovered because they are pieces of history and they are valuable and will make me very, very rich.

-A bottle of ketchup. It looks like regular ketchup. Heinz brand. Because Hunts brand really does suck it, I don’t know why anyone bothers to get anything else but Heinz. Seriousy. Don’t be a prick, spend the extra dollar and get the Heinz. Anyway it is ketchup. It is red, it is thick, it is ‘chock full of lypoprene’ which sounds like something my bathing suit is made out of or something baseball players put on their junk because it itches. The only problem with my ketchup is that IT EXPIRED IN TWO THOUSAND AND FIVE. That is (nearly) FIVE YEARS AGO. HALF A DECADE AGO.

-A can of Campbell’s Vegetarian Vegetable Alphabet Soup. I rarely eat canned soup, unless I am very, very desperate. Like when I was in grad school and had $5 in my bank account. What can $5 get you in NYC? Well, it gets you a can of soup and a bagel. It does not get you salad, however. You know how people reminice about their “salad days”? Well clearly they did not live in NYC because you cannot afford salad here. Lettuce costs more than $5. Anyway the point is, my “salad days” were more like “soup days”. I happen to like soup, it is kind of like drinking a food pyramid. Kind of convenient. Anyway, this can of Campbell’s Vegetarian Vegetable Alphabet Soup expired in TWO THOUSAND AND FOUR. Which is when I was in grad school. SIX YEARS AGO. SIX! HALF A DOZEN YEARS AGO!

-I found a bag of what might be brown sugar, but it looks more like a brown brick that is ROCK SOLID. If I had a thousand more of these, I would build myself a wood-fire pizza oven. A PIZZA OVEN, PEOPLE. Everyone likes pizza, am I right? Just say yes even if you don’t agree. Pizza is like advanced phD level toast. You know how much I love toast.

-I also found the following:
Godiva Chocolate Liquor, a third of a bottle
Frangelico, almost finished. Maybe a few tablespoons left
Kahlua, half a bottle
Amaretto, three-quarters of a bottle
Triple Sec, quarter left

I should make some kind of adult beverage out of this business. Like an adult milkshake. But probably not with the triple sec, that stuff is kind of weird. Is there such thing as Double Sec? I mean maybe triple is just too much. Maybe I just want double? You know, I’m trying to moderate more. Triple just seems extreme. Double is fine, thank you.

-I FOUND A TRASH CAN. A REAL TRASH CAN. Tucked away on the pantry floor. Holy shit. A garbage can. I can see why I hid it away. it is a real piece of shit. I wanted to throw the garbage can in the garbage can. I’m not sure how to do that, so I just gave it to my neighbors.

-A box of 3-hole-punched paper. Curious. I have no idea how it got here, nor do I ever remember needing it or using it or buying it. It is a gift from Santa. On his days off he works at Staples. It’s a recession, everyone’s taking on more responsibilties.

-I found a pair of binoculars. Nice. It was in my pantry, next to a can of chile peppers in adobo. Because that is where one keeps binoculars.

I found some other stuff too, all historical artifacts that will make me very very rich. I’m going to the Natural History museum tomorrow to sell all this stuff, I am sure they will be very happy. If not, I’ll give it to the Met. I hear they’ll take anything.

HOLY SHIT IT IS SO COLD IN MY APARTMENT RIGHT NOW. BLAAAH!

I am wearing a puffy coat. It is like one of those coats that’s like a sleeping bag with sleeves. You know this, yes? It is ugly precisely because sleeping bags are ugly and a sleeping bag with sleeves on it is even uglier. I have yet to see a sleeping bag with sleeves that does not look ugly. It’s kind of like how I’ve never seen a pigeon that is not ugly. The shit does not exist. Like freakin unicorns. (In an aside, when I was nine I met this girl who was convinced that unicorns were real and lions were make-believe and I remember being like, dude, you are an idiot, and she was totally adamant about it. I even busted out the encyclopedia and showed her an entry for lions and then she showed me the entry for unicorns and it was, like, a really confusing time for me.)

Anyway I’m wearing one of those puffy coats INSIDE my apartment and I am STILL cold. I am also wearing over the knee long socks that are so tight and thick that they are cutting off circulation to my vagina, not to be crass or anything. I am also wearing Pikachu slippers which are like sticking your feet into two large stuffed animals. I am also wearing a hat, a scarf, and fingerless gloves.

AND I AM STILL COLD.

In addition, I am boiling a large pot of water to heat up my apartment. It is…not working. It actually does work if I stand right next to the pot of water, but unfortunately my legs are getting tired FROM STANDING NEXT TO A POT OF WATER. THIS IS WHAT MY LIFE HAS BECOME.

It is FUCKING COLD AND I AM FUCKING ANGRY. I AM IN A FROZEN RAGE. A FRAGE! FRAAGGEE!

Landlord has not returned calls. I don’t think he is there. He is certainly not here. I mean if he were here, he’d be like WTF WHY IS IT SO GODDAMN COLD IN THIS APARTMENT SOMEONE SHOULD TELL THE LANDLORD and then I’d kick him in the sac.

I was mentioned in this month’s Wallpaper! It’s actually a story about Emeco, the chair people, and their bench with Gehry. The bench was being auctioned at Sotheby’s, which I twatted about, but I guess I didn’t blog about it, woops. It’s hard for me, you know. If you’re wondering what a Sotheby’s auction looks like, here it is:

You can see the Gehry bench there. It’s pretty funny. Those people in the middle are like bidding on Eames tables and Hermes valets that cost more than I’ll probably ever make in an entire lifetime. Like who are you people? Is there not a recession? But the auction was pretty rad, it’s like Ebay on steroids with a lot nicer stuff. I mean you can bid on Tiffany lamps at Sotheby’s, and on Ebay you bid on lamps like this:

I’m not knocking this deer leg lamp or anything. It’s certainly a conversation starter. “Do you like my lamp? Wait to you see what I did with the genitals!”

Anyway, the Wallpaper article mentions yours truly, and my favorite line is “She now contributes to conceptual projects.” Seriously, I have NO idea what that means, I don’t really contribute much to anything. But it’s great to see Pecha Kucha and Pidgin get a shout-out, holla. The next PKNY is in September. It will be solar-powered, and, I suppose, human-powered.

You can read the article here (Thanks Lizzie for scanning it!). Keep in mind that it’ll start downloading IMMEDIATELY, so check your download thingy.

Last night Dan from Emeco, the chair people, gave a talk at Design Within Reach about 10 years, 10 collaborations of fancy chairs with even fancier designers/architects/whatever. You may or may not know that I blog on their behalf. I blog about chairs. Fancy fucking chairs made out of recycled Bud Light with Lime cans. They really are nice, I’m not just saying that. Anyway at the end of the night they had a drawing for two chairs, one by Sir Norman Foster and one by Not-Sir-Just-Regular-Mr. Frank Gehry.

They pulled a name out, some dude name Rodrigo, and he wasn’t there. So they were like, OK we’ll call Rodrigo, and then some guy in the audience yells out NO YOU HAVE TO BE HERE, COME ON. So they pull another one out. The someone says OH SHE WENT HOME DAMN SHE’S GONNA BE PISSED. So they pull another name out and it’s my good friend Marc McQuade! He immediately sprouts a gigantic boner on his face. He wins the Norman Foster 20-06 chair.

How dope is that? So pretty. When you sit in it, you feel like you can take over the world in a comfortable and very stylish way. Like, I SHALL CONQUER YOU, WORLD, BUT FIRST, LOOK AT MY ASS. LOOK AT HOW NICE IT LOOKS IN THIS BOSS CHAIR.

So then they start the drawing for the Gehry chair. They pull a name, it’s Rodrigo again. Padding the pot. Rodrigo, if you’re reading this, shame on you, loser. So then they pull out a name again and IT’S ME OMFG. I win the Superlight by Frank Gehry.

OMFGGGG! I SWEAR it was not rigged. I was like I really shouldn’t take this since I do stuff with Emeco and a nice gentleman in the audience says oh whatever, you deserve it honey!And I’m like, you’re right. I DO deserve it. Is there also a drawing for a yacht? Because I deserve a yacht. I can’t even drive one, but I’d like to say, oh yeah, I was hanging out on my yacht this weekend. This is because I want to sound like a complete douchetard.

So Marc and I took them home. Like take-out. I’ll have the Buddha’s delight, the low mein, and oh I’ll take that Superlight. Thanks. Oh what’s that? The chair is free? Well that is very nice of you. Oh? And I get a fortune cookie too? Does my fortune say that I’m a WINNER?

I’m not sure what to do with my chair. I’m out of space, that much is clear. I have more chairs than ass cheeks right now. I’m thinking of mounting it on the wall, which would be absolutely hilarious.

In OTHER news, I got the motherfucking SODA CLUB. It is a SELTZER MAKER. Holy crap. Do you guys know about this? It’s a little carbonating device. You fill a bottle with water, inject it with bubbles, and then YOU HAVE SELTZER. You might think hmm, I really don’t drink a lot of seltzer. BUT GUESS WHAT? You will if you have this. I can’t even drink flat water anymore. Like water without bubbles? Why even bother living?

So now I will start making my own sodas. Like sparkling juices n’ stuff. OH YEAH. DON’T BE JEALOUS. It’s also a greener alternative, but really, you don’t buy it to be BFFs with Mother Earth. You buy it because YOU ENJOY WATER WITH BUBBLES. Who doesn’t like bubbles? Assholes, that’s who. Just kidding. Well, not really. Anyway I got mine on Ebay for cheaper. It’s already paid for itself. So crisp and refreshing.

I walked into the office today and saw this in the lobby! WTF? Somewhere a church is missing something.

My co-worker says she took it off the street and put it in our lobby and waiting for her brother to help her take it home. She wants to put it in her backyard and grow plants in it which is AWESOME. It is almost worth moving just so I could have a garden to grow plants on this. Donations are appreciated, obvz.

MY APARTMENT SMELLS LIKE VOMIT. I DID NOT VOMIT. HOWEVER, IT SMELLS LIKE VOMIT, IT IS A MYSTERY. I MUST WRITE IN ALL CAPS BECAUSE ONE CANNOT DISCUSS MYSTERIES WITHOUT WRITING IN ALL CAPS.

FOR EXAMPLE, WHICH IS MORE MYSTERIOUS:

Who really killed John F. Kennedy?

OR

WHO REALLY KILLED JOHN F. KENNEDY?

SEE THE SECOND OPTION IS MUCH MORE MYSTERIOUS. IT MAKES ME WANT TO SOLVE THE MYSTERY SO IT IS NO LONGER A MYSTERY AND ONLY FACT.

THIS BRINGS ME BACK TO THE ORIGINAL POINT, WHICH IS, WHY DOES MY APARTMENT SMELL LIKE VOMIT IF I AM THE ONLY ONE HERE AND I, IN FACT, DID NOT VOMIT.

I CANNOT FIND THE SOURCE. THUMBS DOWN SITUATION. ALSO MYSTERIOUS SITUATION.

I realize I haven’t been blogging much these days. Mostly because I have writer’s block. It’s pretty bad. Really bad. I’m having problems. And it’s not like one of those problems you can throw money at or one of those problems where you can just amputate something or one of those problems you can just throw something out and start over like a souffle or a custard. What do you do when your brain refuses to help you out? I say, hey brain, let’s write about this, and the brain says, I have an idea, why don’t I suckerpunch you in the face or stick a shiv in your gut. Pow! And then I say, but brain, seriously, it’s time to get serious. We need to write something that doesn’t suck and the brain is like, oh my god, you totally need to handwash that scarf right now.

So I handwash that scarf and now it’s ruined. The yarn is like falling apart, I guess the detergent was too heavy duty (Sorry Erin, it was the one you made me).

So then I’m like, OK brain, let’s do this. I’m totally serious this time. We’re gonna squeeze something out. We will write anything. We’ll write an essay, or a letter, or EVEN A PIECE OF FICTION GOOD GOD HOW HORRIFYING and then my brain is like, you know, this isn’t working out. I want to break up with you. I want to see other people. And I’m like, dude you can’t leave me just because things are tough, we’ve been together for a long time, for as long as I can remember, you can’t do this to me and my brain is like oh yeah? Watch me. Then I hear the door slam and if I (only) had a brain, I’d think oh my god, I think my brain just left me and is never coming back. I mean if I were my brain, I’d leave too.

So now my brain is totally at the club,doing the cabbage patch on the dance floor, doing coke with, like, everyone from Gossip Girl and probably getting it on with James Franco or Peter Petrelli from Heroes and I’m sitting here, with a wet scarf on my table. The good news is that I washed the walls in the bathroom so now they’re not as moldy.

So hello, friends. If you see my brain, tell her I miss her and want to get back together again. We’re meant to be together, like Hall and Oates.

You know what would be awesome?

If I had hot water.

It would be so awesome.

I’ve only heard good things about hot water.

What’s interesting is that I pay for hot water every month.

And yet I don’t have it.

But, as I said, I’m sure it’s very nice. Maybe one day I’ll have it so I can know how awesome it is. I mean, it could certainly suck. That’s a possibility. Maybe it might be too hot and I have to turn on the cold. I am familiar with cold water.

In related news, this is my new desktop photo. Why? Because it made me laugh. He’s so unabashedly a douche it’s almost refreshing. He’s skateboarding with training wheels. Look, I do not understand it, I only understand that he is a douchetruck full of douche. Enjoy, friends