teeny tale: whole grains

dense slices of 7-grain bread, toasted with peanut butter & jam. it’s her favorite kind of breakfast food. she says it helps fill some part inside her that remains empty overnight. two slices. every day. even if it doesn’t quite reach the deepest, darkest pit of her stomach.

Spike Jonze Knows Where the Wild's At

Where the Wild Things Are is out, directed by Spike Jonze. Get ready for the cinema by watching another vid directed by Jonze's. He's got some mad skillz. From furry 'staches to furry beasts.

streetside salvageable.

A few weeks ago I was walking through my neighborhood on my way to meet up with my girlfriend for one of our afternoon park walks. On the way, I spotted these cozy chairs advertising themselves on the curb; a "Free furniture" sign stood at the opposite corner. I left them, met up with my friend and dragged her off course to show her my find. We made a deal: If they were still there after our walk they would come home with me...with her help. And 45 mins. later, when the walk ended, we popped back down the side street, the place holding the residence that broke them in, the same one that then decided to toss them out. They were still there, so we swept them up and proceeded to walk two blocks with them to my place. Double bonus: two new chairs, a great arm workout.

Today I began giving these seats a new life, one that is bright and cheery. With a little sanding, a little priming, and a lot of white glossy spray paint they're on their way. Refinishing I can do, however, I have no idea how to reupholster chairs. I suppose I'll be learning soon enough--or at least my own version of how it's done. Stay tuned to see how that goes. I'm not making any promises...

it's back.

If you're in need of some form of consistency in your life, place yourself somewhere which offers up the four seasons for your delight. Fall is back. The leaves are turning golden and dropping in a scattered mess in the backyard. I love this season, but hate its cleanup; however, I'll take it if that means I get to enjoy the pleasures of the fine fall scents that come along with it: for one, the smell of the leaves--fresh and fallen--and then the pumpkin and spice candles, and warm apple cider--only to name a few. I want piles of leaves to magically appear like they did when I was little so I can jump into them with my worn jeans and navy blue knitted hat. I want to run a crayon (preferably Burnt Orange, Brick Red or Goldenrod) sideways over a piece of paper with a leaf beneath it to uncover the veins that give it life then suck it back. The desire to whip up stews and bake an apple pie and put maple syrup on anything possible comes on quickly, and it tends to stay for a few good months. My knitting needles are pulled from the wooden box they've sat in patiently for the past six months; they missed my touch. The ball of yarn that was left unfinished now wraps, loosely, around my neck, not as a scarf, nor as a cowl--it's not tight enough--but as the thing I finally finished, the thing that rightfully fills the purpose to warm my neck and needs no name more formal than "the thing I made." (Paragraphs are overrated.) Do you remember the smell of mud at your high school football game? Or what about the smell of the metal, chain-link fence you stood against and the cup of hot chocolate that kept you warm? (NFL games will never compare.) Layers. Sweaters. Boots. Speckled socks. Blue jeans. Corduroys. Even the wardrobe change I welcome, and fondly. To my disappointment fall always comes and goes in a blink of an eye: as soon as I finally realize it's here it's gone. It is here. I'm not too late. I've caught it, just in time to hold on to it and be in it, before it, and the entire year falls.

Hope you've done the same.
(Fall photos to come...I hope.)

going ga ga for gaga.

As some people may know, I am a sucker for SNL. Yes, I downsized my SNL fill during, what I considered, the off years, however, it's gaining momentum again and my appetite is no longer suppressed. Last Sat. I tuned in like the semi-loyal viewer that I am, and I'll be honest, I wasn't too keen on the idea of Lady Gaga as the musical guest, but I stayed up for that last half hour. You know the one I'm talking about. The one they drag out with commercial break after commercial break, only to end with five minutes left for one final song. To my surprise Gaga left be agasp. She's talented. And if you can look past the metallic rings that make her torso the nucleus of some fabricated atom, you'll see a gal with one kick ass voice. She's got something when she sits down at that grand piano, and it's worth watching.

An Atom. (Just in case you needed a refresher.)

i feel alive.

i can't get enough of these guys.

in case that version wasn't clear enough...



do me a favor and check 'em out some more. i think you'll be glad you did.

cheers!

mah na mah na.

teehehe.

one of these puppets just doesn't belong; however, he's the star, and the disheveled look seems to work for him, or does it? because it's not strange at all to have two prim and proper school girls sing a song with a rough-around-the-edges (really rough) creepy male puppet. hmm. wasn't sesame street supposed to teach us NOT to speak with strangers? oh. okay. so that's the loophole: you can sing with strangers but you can't talk to them. whatever, i like the creepy puppet. i'm watching it again...mah na mah na...

yeah, when empanadas can talk...

Oh.



Ads outside the U.S. are way cooler. When you can make an ad about Pepto seem interesting, you've done a heck of a job.

another look: paris and florence

‘It was as if someone had coaxed the eyes out of Bambi and resettled them, half asleep, into a human face.’

Upon reading “Guy Walks into a Bar Car,” an essay by David Sedaris, one (that one being female), who had little background of Sedaris, would begin to imagine themselves as the girl on the train who had just broken up with her boyfriend (ex-boyfriend) and headed back to New York. While at the same time, would most likely be thinking how unexpected and adventurous Sedaris must be to write from the opposite sex’s point of view. It’s preconceived notions that lead to such thoughts. And it’s that which has the potential to give this story (and any other story for that matter which challenges our it’s-either-black-or-white way of thinking) a read that turns out to give more than one had expected to receive--once again giving another lesson on expectations.


Additional reading: Journey Into Night. I loved this one, too. Sedaris will be at UB this Thursday.