Nearly twelve years later and I'm still having New York firsts. I've finally participated in the annual Coney Island Mermaid Parade. Peace pal Nadette and fellow cyclist/activists organized a group called Super Sassy Something Something Seahorses Swarm from the Sweltering Sea. It was overly alliterative, mildly political, and wholly fun.
The incredibly talented Ian Hart designed these deceptively intricate seahorse heads to mount on our bikes.
Nadette lovingly made one for me so I could play too.
The line for those who pre-registered but still needed the mark of the mer was long, but allowed for 30 minutes-or-so of glorious crazy-gazing.
In the midst of my snapping, I got a bonus: King Neptune, Adam Savage and Queen Mermaid, Patti D'arbanville! I thought they were just random freaks, but no. They're celebrity freaks.
We joined the parade on the boardwalk between some adorable sailor girls who frequently showhttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gifed their bums and a group of mildly enthusiastic mermaids in pasties. I think the pasty girls were annoyed at the attention we got from the crowd. The people loved us and we were clothed. I felt kind of bad for them and the sunburns they were getting on their boobs.
When we made the jog to the Surf Ave. leg of the route, we made a pass around parade to join forces with the Rude Mechanical Orchestra. They are my new favorite band ever.
Open letter to young men who bathe in Axe or Tag or any other manfume/ Confidential to the young man who sat next to me on the PATH this morning
You are adorable in your homeboy hip-hopness: your ubitquitous baggy jeans, oversized baseball cap with the sticker on the brim, loose-fitting racing jacket, bright yellow walkie-talkie style phone. You smiled at Snack and held out your hand for him to smell it. But that gesture, while sweet, was unnecessary. We both, and everyone on the train, smelled you before you boarded. How delightful for us that you chose the seat next to Snack.
I can tell by your face you are a nice kid. You are polite to your elders, help your younger siblings with their homework, and you like animals. That right there is a mark of a good person. It is with the sincerest desire to help you that I share this information with you.
No amount of body spray covers up the smell of ass. It may mask it for a moment, but when the smeller has recovered from the asthmatic irritation of your entrance, the undertone of ass remains. As Natalie Dee advocates, when you wash, wash the butt too. Once clean, there is no need to bathe again in manfume. Don't believe the marketing. That shit is like bug repellent, but instead it repels chicks. And dogs.
There are 650 miles of active track in the NYC subway system.
Source: The tour guide who led a group of fanny-packed tourists to the World Trade Center site via the E train this morning at the same time I was going to the WTC PATH station via the E train this morning.
This is story may only be interesting to me, but I don't care. That's how not-jaded I am.
Yesterday, I took Snack for his morning walk, dodging cables and dollies and Teamsters setting up to shoot Law & Order: Almond. Then I saw Kathryn Erbe; that meant Vincent D'Onofrio was around somewhere. My mood instantly shifted from one of "get the hell out of my way, people live here" to "oh my god is that him?"
Snack and I walked all the way around the block and no Vincent. Oh well. I went back inside to "work" from home.
About an hour later, my roommate was getting ready to leave for an audition. I mentioned the filming and quipped (yes, I quip sometimes), "When you see Vincent, remind him that it's '2R' and I'm here all day." Dan assured me he would pass along the message. About 30 seconds later, the phone rang. It was only Dan.
"They're shooting right now. Across the street."
I grabbed Snack's leash, called the pupster and ran out the door.
Oh, we pretended to walk...for about 10 feet, but who was I kidding? Imaginary boyfriend #3 was right there. So I did what anyone still wearing pajamas at noon would do; I sat on my stoop and watched. Katie and Vince were doing a walk-and-talk scene down the sidewalk across the street starting at the convent and ending directly across from my building. Where I sat. With my dog. Gawking like a tourist. And I swear to Maude he looked right at me.
The only other time* I've been that squishy about a celebrity was watching Jesse L. Martin and Jerry Orbach shoot a scene for L&O: Plain on the steps of the church a few doors down, but those were two different kinds of squishy.
Confidential to location scouts for L&O: Peanut: Mariska and Meloni would give me the trifecta. See what you can do about that.
*slight understatement - I'm not a freakin' robot. I just learned from years of waiting tables that celebs are just like regular people, and just as annoying. The secret is to keep your distance.
Election Day puts a spring in my step no matter how disenfranchised I feel in the months prior, nor how despondent and saddened in the months after. I'm in love with democracy and its external trappings.
brought to you by the New York State Unified Court System.
Cat reports that, while I was at a Halloween party last night, the pumpkin I carved (see above) went on a date with the pumpkin she carved. The mummy window decoration was the chaperon. Cat took pictures. Hopefully, she'll pass them along before they carry her off to Dorothea Dix.
