Friday, December 21, 2007

The best part of Christmas

I'm actually a sucker for Christmas spirit. I like pulling out the Perry Como album, the ornaments I made in preschool, and - of course - eating the frosting off of all the gingerbread men. But there is also the best Christmas movie ever:
I took a shower washing every body part with actual soap; including all my major crevices; including in between my toes and in my belly button which I never did before but sort of enjoyed. I washed my hair with adult formula shampoo and used cream rinse for that just-washed shine. I can't seem to find my toothbrush, so I'll pick one up when I go out today. Other than that, I'm in good shape.
Someday I'm going to use that as my "contemporary" monologue at an audition and blow everyone away. If you don't know what movie that's from, I'm a little bit concerned for you and maybe we shouldn't be friends anymore. But Happy Holidays anyway.

Sunday, December 02, 2007


I learned an important lesson about myself last night: if you give me a juice-glass sized cup of wine, I will chug that shit like it's Minute Maid.

Do that three times and it is not improbable to find myself at a random rich person's 40th birthday party with a Stella and a Heineken in my bag, dancing with a 10-year-old in front of a video screen.

I need to stop being a lush. Or maybe I need to start crashing more open bar parties. I haven't decided yet.

Saturday, November 03, 2007

what now?

I know it's sickeningly cliche, but I'm having that quarter-life crisis (assuming my life span will be 96 - and yes, I just had to use a calculator to figure that out). Sure, I like theatre and film and all that stuff I got an actual degree in, but that was back when I lived in the pretentious bubble of college life. Two and half years later those career titles that were so easily blurted out are sounding less tangible and interesting.

What about the other skills and/or interests I have that don't really fit on a resume? For example:
- I love magazines, all kinds and everything about them. I like the pictures, the fonts, the glossy pages, and usually the actual articles too.
- I often have an anal-retentive urge to organize things by size.
- I can make pretty kickass playlists and I tend to hijack the music at parties.
- I eat way to much sugar and would live off of cupcakes and ice cream if they magically didn't make me fat.
- I am a wanderer, both in the sense that I like to take ridiculously long walks and that I'm never going to be done traveling around the world.

So where does all that get me? A gig as a DJ at a well-organized bakery on an airplane with built-in newsstands? With some acting/directing/filmmaking/writing thrown in there somewhere? As awesome as that sounds, I doubt I'll find it on Craigslist, or on any kind of classifieds page. How do I turn this mish-mash of stuff in my head (yes, mish-mash) into something I want to do every day?

And this, my friends, is what I think about at 1:30 on a Friday night/Saturday morning. Maybe I should concentrate on getting a social life first. Or at least some sleep.

Wow, this post got all serious and boring. I'll leave you with a picture:

See? Even at graduation I knew this whole "real life" thing was not going to be as cool as everyone made it sound.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Now you see me, now... I'm coffee in a can!

Here it is folks, the moment you've been waiting for!

From the land that brought you human Tetris, bad English, and, yes, canned coffee... IT'S A VENDING MACHINE DRESS!

It's meant to be a defense against getting mugged on the streets, a quick hiding place of sorts, but really I think it's just another genius move in the Japanese world of fashion. People will totally be wearing these at every junior high in Tokyo! You just wait.

Read the original article here and watch the accompanying slide show; it's amazing.

Now I want some canned coffee. But the real kind, not the fabric kind.

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

"You want Cream Wheat or Rice Creepy?"

When I was in the hospital last year one of the food service people actually said this to me. She was completely serious, she just had a heavy accent and had no idea what she was saying. It was one of the few times I was able to have a good laugh in the midst of my pain-and-morphine-induced dreamworld.

And now... someone has made it reality! Well, a drawing anyway:

Mmmmm, toasted lice. Here's a link to the whole site of "terrorfying" breakfast cereals (thanks to Pete).

Friday, September 28, 2007

You know you're poor when... get excited about people giving away hair products on Craigslist

"Shampure" is unopened. I used the conditioner once. I use other stuff now but hate to throw this out. Want someone to take it.

You also know it's time to go to bed when you seriously consider emailing them.

Saturday, September 22, 2007

hide your bling

I'm starting to worry about myself. I'm becoming a kleptomaniac.

Although, to be fair, it's not so much maniacal obsession that's driving me as it is poverty. I just bought this shiny new MacBook, so it's kind of my own fault, but still... I'm going to have my pity party and sulk about it.

It started with the hospital gown this morning. I had my (hopefully) last arm x-ray and had to wear this wrap-style gown and I thought "hmmm, this is pretty trendy for the radiologist's... maybe I could make something cooler out of it." And into my bag it went.

And then I started thinking about all the other things I've kind of stolen lately too: two pairs of pants from the lost and found at work, various magazines, cereal and jam from that cabin place in Vermont, and even some quarters from the change jar at work to finance the coffee addiction.

Yep. I'm in so much trouble. OK, work people, if you read this, I will totally pay you back someday when I'm a rich and famous writer/actor/director/collage maker/ice cream flavor creator (<-- how fucking cool would that be??). I will.

And now I want ice cream.

Friday, August 17, 2007

Because I'm paid by the hour

I have been at work since 10am, it is now nearly 5pm, and I have probably done at most 1 hour of real, actual work.

These are the work-related things I did:
-Typed up staff meeting minutes.
-Called some guy about some paycheck problem.
-Shredded a bunch of papers.
-Deposited 3 checks at the bank.
-Opened the mail, then sorted all the mail piles into neat stacks according to size.

These are the non-work-related things I did (notice how nearly all of them are on the internet):
-Dreamed about pizza with roboppy.
-Laughed at bad celebrity fashion.
-Found my new dream friends/social activity.
-Read the latest culture news from the NY Times (but didn't read the real news).
-Browsed Craiglist for free/cheap furniture, cheap bikes, writing opportunities, pictures of apartments I wish I could afford, and "Missed Connections" headlines to laugh at.
-Bought two wee heads of garlic and a vegan cinnamon roll from the Union Square markets.
-Further considered the merits of veganism, or at least considered some vegan cooking.
-Peed FIVE times (I guess I drink a lot... or have a bladder the size of a golf ball)
-Evaluated my checking account and current expenditures and questioned if I can afford to run back to Europe. I can't.
-Chewed THREE pieces of gum... gonna get TMJ.

This is what happens when The Boss is gone for two weeks and I run out of Things to Do on my "Things to Do" list. At least right now when people walk by the office they hear the pitter-patter of typing and think I'm being productive. Hopefully The Boss won't read this. If he someday is... well... Boss, you were in BRAZIL. No pity.

*Sigh*, 46 minutes to go until I can consider jetting out of here. Unless I try to "work" some overtime. That might be pushing it.

Monday, August 06, 2007

"East Village, Circa Midnight" (a true story adapted for the stage)

SETTING: A sidewalk, some scaffolding

AT RISE: A dirty-looking, drunken GUY is standing by the scaffolding. MOLLY enters, carrying two large bags and a large posterboard.

GUY: Spare a penny for the Church of Malt Liquor?

(MOLLY smirks, but continues to walk past him.)

GUY: What does your sign say?

(MOLLY stops and turns the sign around to face him.)

GUY (reading): "The sound of wind or whales." I don't get it.

MOLLY: Neither do I.

GUY: Did you find it?

MOLLY: No, I made it.

GUY (smiling): Even better.

(MOLLY gives him a thumbs up and exits.)


Sunday, July 22, 2007

Nutrition for the SOUL

When I got up today, I told myself I could NOT spend ANY money, because I am POOR. That's right, POOR WITH THE CAPS LOCK. I have been rationing myself a set amount of spending money every week and it usually works out fine, but due to a lot of mindless spending and a lot of wine when my friend was visiting last weekend, I am in debt to myself. Meaning the current rationed amount is in the negative numbers.

So I went into work to pick up the new Harry Potter, because I had Amazon deliver it there, thinking that would satiate me for the day. But no. The resulting glee of having that giant book in my hot little hands made me buy a skirt with pockets from American Apparel (pockets!!), a couple of butterfly cookies from the amazingly cheap Bangladeshi bakery (is it Bangladeshi? god, I'm ignorant), and a six pack of Long Trail Blackbeary Wheat. That's right, I found BLACKBEARY WHEAT at the Foodtown. Fucking. Amazing.

And then I scrounged up the $1.62 to buy three tomatoes and an apple. Hmm, where are my priorities? With premium beer and the Weasleys, my friend.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Because I'm mean

Yesterday morning was an unusually packed one on the Manhattan-bound F train. I can almost always get a seat right when I get on, but this time I had to stand. I was not happy. So when a bunch of people got off at Jay St, I instantly grabbed the closest seat.

Then I noticed a woman standing right in front of me with a little boy in a stroller. I thought, "Oh crap, I should really give her my seat. That would be the polite thing to do." So I sipped my coffee and thought about whether or not I felt like being polite.

And while I sipped my coffee, the little boy kicked all the legs around him with his mini-Croc-covered feet, made a variety of loud beeping noises, kicked the Crocs off, and stuck his bare big toe up his nose.

And I thought, "Yeah... my feet hurt anyway." So I put on my sunglasses, closed my eyes, and turned up my iPod.

Sunday, June 17, 2007


I just ate eleven mini donuts from the amazing Japanese store. They were fatty and sugary and wonderful.
Fatty fat fat.

(Now I'm going to wander to a nondescript location where I'll do nondescript things like brush my teeth, twirl in circles, ride the bus, watch the news, protest the oppression of women, etc, etc, on and on whatever who cares.)

(No, I'm not drunk.)

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

I was all sunshine and giggles until...

I was so happy to finally be home at a reasonable hour tonight because I could finally DO THE LAUNDRY! YAAAAY! It's cooler than a roller coaster! OK, maybe not, but I was excited to wash things because this means I don't have to keep wearing the same pants over and over.

I decided to use the machines in the basement of my building, which I don't often do because there are no change machines and there's no where to sit and hang out, meaning I have to walk the four flights of stairs multiple times. I suppose I could hang out, but it's a little scary down there and I'm always afraid that the cat-sized rat and the Blair Witch are hanging out the dank corners. BUT I did the laundry there anyway because I had the exact amount of needed quarters and the laundromat was closed anyway. Little did I know everything was going to suck.

I washed a giant load (only $1.50!), transferred it to the dryer, started that up (only $1.00!!), and went on my merry way back to my apartment to wait it out. But, oh man, when I returned to fetch my fresh and warm clothes, they were STILL WET. What the crap?? I know it definitely started because I put the money in and watched it go. And it said the cycle was finished so it must have run the full time... right?? I had no choice but to take them out because I had no more quarters.

My only conclusion is that the rat or the witch decided to be extra sinister and opened the dryer door and closed it again just to mess everything up. And then they watched in their respective corners and laughed their extra sinister laughs when I came to get my stuff and yelled in shock and anger. So now my apartment is draped (rather creatively, I might add) with wet articles of clothing. Good thing I currently live alone because there is underwear on every doorknob.

So my moral is: don't do laundry in the basement. I should know by now that the laundromat is far cooler anyway because they play Spanish soap operas on the telly and have a cushy couch for waiting for dry clothes in comfort.

Fuck you, laundry basement monsters.

Monday, May 14, 2007

Just like this - only bigger and better!

Yesterday I was going to start a week-long series called "Crazies on the Subway" featuring the craziest people I see on the subway each day. But both yesterday AND today there were no crazies. Yep, you read that right: no crazies. I must have been asleep.

So I'm going to instead take this opportunity to express my love for the mini chocolate meringues from Trader Joe's. They are the best bite-size pieces of amazing-ness and I don't care that my party guests thought they tasted like cocoa cardboard because now I get to eat the WHOLE TUB. It helps that they are pretty much made of pure sugar. And heaven. *Sigh*. Farewell Nutella; enter meringues.

Um... so... coming soon, "Crazies on the Subway."

Wednesday, April 18, 2007


Dear Cat,

We seem to be having some communication problems. This is going to be harsh, but I'm going to be completely honest. I think I would like you more if:
-you didn't chew on every plastic bag that catches your eye and make me think you're going to die from choking.
-your hair wasn't on every piece of clothing I own.
-you didn't push your head into my face like you think you're all cute or something.
-you didn't poop, ever.
-you didn't bite my socks or scratch my yoga mat.

I especially would like it if when - in a moment of brief and naive happiness - I decided to cuddle with you on my lap, you didn't decide it would be awesome to climb on my shoulder and claw holes in my really cool t-shirt.

I think I would like it best if you were a goldfish.

Maybe we should just be friends... or better yet, distant acquaintances. Meaning you get to live in the coffee table with the doors on it while I live everywhere else. OK?


Thursday, April 12, 2007

Nutella is the new pink frosting

Kids: crack is whack (you were right Whitney). But you know what's whacker?? NUTELLA.

Nutella has suddenly replaced the pink frosting as the every-hour-of-day craving, the item that is ending up on everything: graham crackers, rice cakes, tortillas, sweatshirts. Notice how all of these items are relatively healthy until spread a thick layer of hazelnut/chocolate love on them? Well, except sweatshirts, but those are healthy for cold arms. And cold souls. The point is that Nutella so fabulously transforms an everyday snack into something CHOCOLATE and FATTENING.

So if you're looking to get fat the chocolate way, kids, Nutella is the way to go. If you're looking for hard drugs, I have nothing to say. Except this:

It's not even worth a crazy reality show with your husband, OK?

Sunday, April 08, 2007

There goes the neighborhood

Hey kids! I'm back in NYC! So those damn rogue vehicles better look out. I'm TITANIUM, bitches. And now that I'm back, I'm of course spending way to much time wandering around stores and looking at stuff that I should not be buying.

Which brings me to the subject of H&M. Usually, I love H&M. Everything is pretty cheap and they currently have a poofy purple skirt that I'm obsessed with. But sometimes I just feel too old for it, as if I've stepped into a giant junior high girls locker room. No, H&M people, I actually don't want want to listen to Panic Unecessary Exclamation Point At The Disco while I step over piles of leggings that have been dropped everywhere. I feel like I'm 45 already and telling people that in my day music had words and not just eyeliner and we respected our accessories. REALLY, H&M, let's establish special shopping hours for those under 17 or something. And don't let Madonna design "fashion" ever again.

On a completely separate side note, my best housewarming gift so far? A big container of neon pink frosting. Hell. Yes. Totally not helping my back fat problem.

Monday, March 12, 2007

With a Z

Holy crap, it's Liza Minelli's birthday! And I didn't know until THIS MOMENT. I totally would have had a Liza Minelli party! With lots of sequins and fake eyelashes and vodka! Um, if I didn't live with my parents right now. Wow, I can't believe she's 61. Well, actually I kinda can ... I thought she'd be, like, 73 by now.

And in other news, I am a middle-aged gay man trapped in a young woman's body.

Wednesday, February 28, 2007

exclamation point

I hate how the moment I follow a link to Myspace from my email, their page greets me with "You have to be logged in to do that!" - complete with the explanation point. Why so hostile, Myspace? I just got to your page, I wasn't trying anything illegal, I wasn't looking for child pornography or heroin dealers, so calm down.

On a completely separate note, I learned from my weekly Topshop email that they now make harem pants. Or, ahem, a harem pant, so as not to be confused with pants, which is what the crazy Brits call their skivvies. Anyway, it looks to me like someone in Shaghai got confused with Hammer pants. Or maybe these are for overgrown toddlers. Either way, I don't understand. Topshop is amazing 95% of the time, but this is obviously from that 5% that makes you go "Wait. What?"

You have to be a crazy Brit to wear the harem pant!

Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Tuesday, January 30, 2007

truffle shuffle

I am turning into a big blob. Today I told myself:
"I will eat healthy food"
"I will eat three healthy meals composed of real things, not just baked goods and breakfast cereal"
"I will not stand idly in the kitchen opening all the cabinets and wondering how I got Hershey's syrup all over the place"

Well. Some of this came true. I did eat two healthy-like meals so far (because, for some reason, I naturally got up at 7:40am and decided to stay up). But in between my healthy-like meals, almost unconciously, I ate:
-Two handfuls of imitation Honey Bunches of Oats
-Four tea biscuit things
-A Japanese lollipop
-A chocolate pizelle cookie
-A handful of Trader Joe's trail mix
This is all completely compulsive; I don't even realize it until the crumbs are all over me. It's like those people who claimed they gained weight from taking Ambien because they would wake up and eat in their sleep. Except I'm not taking Ambien. And it's daytime.

I suppose I should just enjoy my fatness now that I have this "vacation" from the outside world for a while. The only person that has to see me in a bathing suit anyway is my physical therapist.


Please pass the Hershey's syrup.

Friday, January 26, 2007


I got a haircut last weekend and, as I was feeling dangerous, gave in to the suggestion that my mom pick out the style. Plus, she paid for it so I figured it was fair.

I've decided that I either look like Karen O:

Or Fabienne in Pulp Fiction:

Or maybe just a mid-18th-century boy who wears britches (no picture for that ... you can imagine it).

Hair is such a difficult thing. Especially now that I have allllll this time to obsess about it.

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

Come on down!!!

Now that I am stuck home whilst waiting for my bones to heal, I'm back to watching bad daytime TV. My parents only get seven channels, so there aren't even that many channel surfing options. My two hours of late-morning physical therapy exercises are now accompanied by me flipping between Rachael Ray (the talk show, not the food show... although I guess there is food still involved) and Martha Stewart, then The View and The Price Is Right.

Which is how I came to my latest revelation today that The Price Is Right is stuck in a weird time warp that combines the mid 1970s with the early 1990s. Seriously, the decor is all orange and purple with glitter trim while the models wear stuff that I think my sister wore to her junior prom in 1993. Today, when the magic walls parted to reveal a new set of skis, the model was wearing this giant parka with three big navy, teal, and magenta stripes. And I think that was all she was wearing. Yep, just a parka and heels. But the point is, I swear my best friend in fourth grade had the same exact one, funnel neck and all. These women may as well start flipping up their bangs with huge amounts of Rave.

The only change on The Price Is Right - one that makes me a little sad - is that Bob Barker no longer has the microphone that looks like an over-sized lollipop on an extra long stick. The top is now a bit more streamlined and is almost the same shape as a normal, modern-day microphone. It still has the extra long stick though. Maybe while the decor stays in the '70s and the models stay in the '90s, the microphone is stuck somewhere in between. But I'm not sure I mean the '80s.

I spend way too much time indoors.

Thursday, January 11, 2007

i'm actually alive

Just wanted to say a few things:

-Yes, I'm still here, I did not desert my beloved [nonexistent] fans. I just got hit by a van, that's all. Just a minor thing, really.
-No, I'm not going to write a lot right now because I can only type with my left hand and right index finger. O pity me.
-And maybe it was a bad idea to drink that big delicious mug of tea because now I'm going to go to bed and as soon as I get in my PJs, brush my teeth, and get all cozy in bed with a magazine, I'll have to get up and pee. Damn you, liquids.

PS: I love commas.