Titles for my One Woman Show

I Ain't Hard but I Ain't Easy Either
Crying in the Workplace
To Wrong You, Thanks For Everything, Truly NewNow
World Peace and Boy Crushes
Drowning in my own sarcasm
Sarcasmic! The Musical
Get off my stage!
Hello World!
Moon River
Princess in a castle: The fairytale myth and its perpetuation in modern cosmopolitan lifestyles.
Zits: I have them
Beckett and Me
Sooz 2005!
The cat came back the very next day
And the streets were full of hotties
Crrrrrash and Burrrrn
Time: Essential (a dance piece)
H & M? Yes, Please!
Cheap, Shallow and Lovin' it!
Witness: A Quaker Testimonial
Little Bottles of Crazy Strewn About the House
These Dirty Razors, They Tell no Lies
I'm the actress/I'm the chicken: Kostya
This morning on the subway...

There is a facilities guy emptying water from the ceiling in one of the conference rooms. Its sort of a biweekly thing, where he has to get on a ladder and pour buckets full of water out into a big tub. I'm sure there's a nautical term for when you have to do that to a boat. Or even a chanty about it? In any case, I think its funny that this is their way of dealing with what is obviously a building repair issue.

Here is what Holiday Mathis says to everyone today (not specifically Capricorns):
"Venus, the planet of love and beauty, is pulling as far away from Uranus as her orbit will allow. Or is it Uranus that escapes the seduction of Venus by fleeing? It's as though Uranus knows something we don't about the nature of romance and chooses to observe the interaction from afar. You might do the same and come to a key realization."

Hehe. Uranus. Venus must be pulling away from Uranus for some reason. Did you have beans for lunch? HAHAHAHAHAHA! Holiday Mathis always his different colored eyes in that picture.

This is a still from the classic film "short circuit." Please note that the open car trunk in the background says "Babies" on it. I thought it was a bit meta, like warning the viewer, "what will happen when robots have babies?" or "this is what Johnny 5 is subconsciously hungry for." But T James proposed that the decision went something like this:


"I think someone was like, how do we make this a scary neighborhood? And some dood was like let's put babies on the trunk so they think that's where babies go."

Kat's guest post

Today just a little something from the famous filmmaker, Kat Parker. Who also happens to be my buddy-bud from high school:

i was at starbucks the other day, and this mini-woman cut ahead of me and Elizabeth and so Elizabeth was like "um, excuse me, we were in line here." The short little indian woman whipped around and stared up at us and said in an angry voice: "someone is very sick, and I need a frappuccino right away." And i was thinking to myself- were those two seperate statements? like "there are children starving in Africa, and i need an iced mocha"? or was she actually suggesting that there are medicinal properties in starbucks' frappuccino? either way, we laughed in her face, then Elizabeth was like "well i need my decaf, get in line." and the lady got all huffy. we wanted to trail her to see if the frappuccino was actually for someone else, or if she took sips off it, but we lost her in the crowd. arg!

Katie, Katie, Katie

I love you for this sort of thing. In a W magazine interview, Katie said...

"Tom is the most incredible man in the world."

So, I've compiled a list of other men in the world who apparently fall just short of the mark....

The Dalai Lama
Nelson Mandela
Lance Armstrong
My dad
Jimmy Carter
Xi Shun
The Pope
Firemen
Kofi Annan

....and I'm sure you can think of a few more. Unless that's it. There's probably only a few who are more incredible than Tom Cruise. I've stuck to the living ones, for all our sakes.

Where the pigeons go to die

My workpal and I spent a good half hour of our lunch discussing why we never see dead pigeons. Finally, Jeeves and the very realistic T. James of the Jolly Roger Orchestra informed me that the dying pigeons crawl under things to die and get eaten by rats and other grossies very quickly. However, Workpal and I decided it was much more fun to imagine the following...

1. Pigeons bury their dead and hold little funerals
2. Pigeons tie weights to their ankles and jump off cliffs into the East River when its time to go.
3. Pigeon cremation, duh
4. Pigeons march down into subway tunnels in straight lines and Karenina themselves onto the tracks.

Vogue Italia's Anna Piaggi

Officially a secretary

I bought a plant for my desk.

KALANCHOE BLOSSFELDIANA ENTRETIEN.

aka Prudence.

printer baby

I am sad and scared right now. A coworker's treatment of a "broken" printer is akin to someone being too rough with my pet.

I have to sit right next to the poor machine as she "assesses" (hits) the machine and announces to everybody that the "toner's low" even though it isn't. I can't step in and save the thing, because it would be a clear indication of how little trust I have in her "fixing" skills.

However, the more she gets her fingers in there, opening doors and talking to herself, the more work I will have to do to actually fix the damn thing.

I have to wait though. I send messages to the printer through telekinesis, whispering things like "I know, I know. It's just a paper jam. I'll be there soon."

I can almost assess what is wrong with it by her mutterings anyway, and I know in a couple of minutes she'll be standing behind me at my cubicle asking me to call "facilities" to fix the printer. Because she obviously thinks that if she can't fix it, we need to bring in the professionals. ("Facilities," by the way, fixes electricity and plumbing; not printers).

Recently, on an airplane back from the midwest, a baby was crying really really loud for at least 45 minutes. Instead of cooing, gently bouncing, singing softly, or FEEDING the child, its mother chose smothering and slapping.

Coworker, and Airplane Medea, here are some bits of advice....

1. The machine/baby is not your enemy
2. It is not trying to humiliate you.
3. The world and all its other people can help you with your "problem"
4. Consider the fragility of what you are working with
5. Ask yourself, "what is this thing made of?"
6. Understand that, just like you, the baby/machine needs help and attention.
7. The world only disapproves of what you are doing, not of the fact that the baby/machine is crying/broken.

Highlights

1. Due to the current "water scare," there's a sign on the office bathroom with warnings and guidelines. But the most specific, and the one that JUMPED off the page at me, was....

"Avoid sexual practices that may result in exposure to feces."

2. I was walking towards a stationary pigeon who decided he/she was ready to get up and fly away. It started flapping off the ground. I assumed it had experience doing this since it was a pigeon, so I just kept walking towards it. "That bird will soon realize it needs to move aside," I told myself. But instead the bird just flipped out. The poor thing just panicked and start flapping mid air, right in front of me. Then it was trying to pick a direction and changing its mind, so essentially it was staying in the same place. I FELT the bird's panic. But I still kept walking towards it because I thought "things like this happen in New York all the time. I just have to stay the course. I have just as much right to be here as the pigeon, and I even have to go to work, while the pigeon just has to perch somewhere, make a white doodie, and consider eating more garbage." I felt the windstorm generated from its beating wings. And then it was gone.

3. I swear to Gah I saw a Nazi on the train this morning. It was only a glimpse because he was in a subway car alone and the train rushed past the platform without stopping. But he was seriously dressed in a dark green wool uniform circa 1940 and was carrying a riding whip! I was starting to feel like I was in "Master and Margarita" and evidence of the devil was appearing all over the city. Then I thought, "maybe I'm just developing schizophrenia," and oddly enough, that wasn't a comforting thought. When you're already tired, depressed, and angry and then you get the notion that you're also going insane, it doesn't improve the mood.

Interns, Dress codes, and Stares OH MY!

We have three interns for the summer so there's hardly anything for me to do. I am BORED.

The only thing going on in the office is this big scandalous hubbub because one of the managers put copies of the dress code on some desks but not others.

Then the manager left the office because she is hiding from the flack that is flying.

I am keeping my head below-cubicle so as to avoid eye-contact that might be taken for an allegiance with either side. I'm secretly so relieved that I didn't receive a dress code reminder.

One girl just emailed me saying that she hopes the manager gets hit by a truck.

untitled

untitled
Originally uploaded by hilarityinsooz.

Taking the "freedom to poo" a little far

Well, its one thing to do it in the bathroom at the office and not be ashamed.

It is another thing entirely to recount the details to a coworker. "Val" just treated me to a very full account of her stomach flu and its ups and downs. On and on and on, penning me into my cubicle.

If you have trouble spotting me...

I'm the one in the tomato red shirt, coral-colored necklace, and peeling skin.

You may see me and ask "who dressed that poor thing?"

It just doesn't match, folks.

Also my shoes are too big so the backs stick out like when little girls play dress up with their mom's shoes.

Complete with wobbling around.

Best Birthday Card

This one makes me chuckle.

The front says, "Did you know the first birthday cards were written on stone tablets?"

And the inside says, "Its easy to know things when you make them up."

I understand this sentiment so very well. I make a lot of things up.

I love when fashion goes in this kind of direction.

Chanel
Originally uploaded by hilarityinsooz.

No really. I am not being sarcastic. I know its ugly but there is something so exciting about it. It's really sick and twisted and has this whole story.

For more creepy Chanel

It's all about the eyebrows.

Aquatic

Last night

I got off the subway

I started walking

A Chinese man was dumping

what looked like

water

on the sidewalk

I walked on it

It was fish guts

The guts squished into all the little spaces in my shoe's

Soul

I was mad

real nice

real nice
Originally uploaded by hilarityinsooz.

'Bloody chainsaw' man enters US

A man carrying a home-made sword and what looked like a blood-stained chainsaw was allowed into the US from Canada, the Associated Press reports.
The news agency says Gregory Despres' weapons were confiscated, before US custom officials in Calais, Maine, let him cross the border on 25 April.
The next day he became a murder suspect after bodies of his two neighbours were found in his hometown in Canada.
Mr Despres, 22, was arrested on 27 April and is now awaiting extradition.

The bodies of Mr Despres' neighbours were discovered in the town of Minto, New Brunswick.
The decapitated body of Frederick Fulton was found on the kitchen floor in his house. The man's head was under a kitchen table.
His common-law wife was discovered stabbed in a bedroom.

'Nobody asked'
AP quoted Bill Anthony, a spokesman for US Customs and Border Protection, as saying the Canadian-born Mr Despres was questioned for about two hours before being allowed to enter the country.
Mr Anthony said Mr Despres could not be detained because he was a naturalised US citizen and was not wanted on any criminal charges on the day in question.
"Nobody asked us to detain him," the spokesman said. "Being bizarre is not a reason to keep somebody out of this country or lock them up... We are governed by laws and regulations, and he did not violate any regulations". Mr Anthony added that officials in Calais did not have a forensic laboratory.
"They can't look at a chainsaw and decide if it's blood or rust or red paint," he said.
Mr Despres was detained, after police spotted him wandering down a motorway in a sweat shirt with red and brown stains.

Christian Surfers

The competition - the Lokomaika'i, or good will, Surf Contest - was co-sponsored by the Hawaiian Islands' Surf Ministries and Christian Surfers Hawaii, and was intended to raise money for a mission to Sri Lanka. At the start of the meet, a native Hawaiian kahu, or preacher, clad in a tropical print sarong and a kukui-nut lei, held a Bible in one hand and a microphone in the other as tanned and toned surfers gathered around him in prayer.
He blessed the ocean and the contest, and told the athletes that while most of them were there to win a prize, the real prize was finding God.
"The world is getting gnarlier and gnarlier," said a spectator, Neil Tsutsui, 38, who is part of a surfers' Bible study group on the North Shore of Oahu. "You get drawn into God with surfing. Surfing is a selfish sport: my wave, my ride. But this teaches selflessness."

From the NY Times

My crazy night

I used to be a world-famous crimefighter. I lived on an island with many confusing and intertwining roads. I drove a beat-up old purple junker of a car, sort of hooptie style, and instead of getting to the crime scenes on time, I mostly drove around getting lost. Everything in the city was very old and reminiscent of a mining town that’s seen many industries boom through it. There was a Submarine system for mass transit below all the canals and rivers. The submarines were very old and made from yellow-painted aluminum. There were abandoned carwashes with big, rusty, cartoon characters everywhere. I was always getting caught on one-ways and having to try to turn around in the parking lots of abandoned motels, etc. The whole time I would be talking to something like a camera or an interviewer about my lifestyle. Then, I realized I had to get home to relieve the babysitter. I have a couple of daughters or one daughter who is always having a slumber party. I don't know.
I live on the top of a mountain in a top-secret location with a lot of security. Or rather, its “supposed” to be really high security but its actually a rickety gate with one guard. Apparently there are a lot of guards but all they do is mill about. So last night, when I got home, I told the camera and interviewer, who is always following me around, that the first thing I do when I get home is inspect the evidence again. The current crime I’m working on has something to do with a Discman. So one of my guards handed me this beat-up old Discman with a CD in it. “This is the killer’s Discman,” I said, “and it contains clues about where his next victim is going to be.” So we listened to the CD. It was a young teenage boy’s voice. He was clearly crazy; it was a ramble of thoughts that sounded schizophrenic. But I sat there trying to decipher all the meanings in it for a really long time. I don’t remember much of the specifics but it was stuff like “The toast is buttery…My friend Rob is a simulation machine…grand staircase….orange eye.” And then I sat there and went “Rob is to orange as buttery is to machine” and tried to make sense of all that. It went on for a long time.
Then I went to my apartment in the city. I am a babysitter for the spookiest family. They have all these rules about where lights can be on in the house, and what kind of activities their baby can do, especially when she’s around electricity. Their house has all these hidden nooks and hallways, and they actually change. Like you’ll walk down a hall towards a door and then you’ll get there, and instead of the door, the little girl is sitting on the floor in front of you. She’s blonde and adorable but has a really creepy smile. I get the feeling that sometimes she is the little girl and sometimes the parents have found a way to watch me from inside of her. At one point I had to go to the bathroom, so I said, “I can’t leave you on the couch alone, you have to wait for me right outside the bathroom door." When I entered the bathroom the lights were on but suddenly she was sitting on the toilet behind me and the lights had turned out. I got a little scared and moved out of the bathroom. I looked back really quickly and she was reaching out for me with her hand like a claw. It happened in a blink of an eye and then things were suddenly normal and she was chatting to me about something very childlike and innocent. Then I found myself back in the bathroom, even though I thought I had left. And the lights were back on. She didn't have a claw anymore. At one point she was watching TV on the couch, and she had to sit very close to the TV. I walked behind the TV into the other room and she flipped out on me, screaming and throwing a tantrum. When I looked at the room I was about to enter, I saw that it was dark and there were shapes of people moving about in the darkness. Soon I discovered a really fun game that became her favorite. It was basically to pretend like we were being electrocuted. We lay on the floor and convulsed our bodies. I found it to be very pleasurable because the hyper-activity caused my body to be very warm. For the same reason, the little girl liked the game. We spent like fifteen minutes convulsing on the brightly lit kitchen floor. I started to feel like such a successful babysitter.