movies movies movies

so, yesterday I "played hookie" (for the first time in a very very long time) to go see Batman Begins for the second time. I left work at 1:30 and met up with Rosa, who also ditched work for the day. We had seen the same movie the night before from the first row of the IMAX; something I definitely do not recommend; so we wanted to see it again, from a less neck-wrenching, pore-magnifying place in the theater. After Batman we snuck (sneak snuk snuck?) into Mr. and Mrs. Smith and that really wasn't what I've heard it would be. First of all they looked unreal as a couple. They are just too perfect looking and it is annoying ..and I love Angelina Jolie (Bratt Pitt isn't bad either). Maybe it was the plot...maybe the fact that they beat each other bloody as man and wife (and it is supposed to be funny)...or maybe just the fact that the characters seemed so 2-dimensional.Oh, well...maybe it is because I saw Batman beforehand...and M&M Smith just couldn't compare.
When I came home and finished putting the kids to bed I sat down for another movie (netflix, baby). In Good Company. My friends, who had already seen it months ago, told me they didn't like the movie. I, however, thought it was very well acted and well told. It also made me really appreciate my job. I don't know how I would survive this cut-throat corporate world out there, where people mean nothing. Well, I guess this is the sacrifice of capitalism. It's either business & profit or people. This is why I will never be rich.

tree-house hotel

Germany's first tree-house hotel (for about 280 bucks/night!?!). Nevertheless, preeetty cool. :)
http://www.kulturinsel.de/indexa.htm

superficial issues

So, yesterday- for the first time in many many many months - I saw a guy I could describe as somewhat hot. Dario, of course, thinks he is in constant competition with basically any well-built black man or anything remotely attractive. I really don't know why. It's not like I am particularily good looking. In fact, compared to most New York women I am quite a hunch-back, so my worries about D getting swept off his feet by a foxy lady should be exponentially higher than his fears of handsome men with any interests in my humble self.

I wonder, why it is that it makes us feel good when we are desired? Is it a socially conditioned thing?

Personally, I find men most attractive when I don't know them very well, yet. Of course, they have to first fulfill the initial criteria of fitting my attractive-male description, which most of them just don't. This is why Dario has absolutely no worries, for the only men I really find hot are one or two movie-stars, thus basically an illusion.

This blog entry is so bad, I want to put a stickie on my back with the note "former blonde but still dumb". And this joke was so bad I shouldn't be allowed to blog. But hey, everybody can have a bad blogging day, right? ... I am still getting used to the American keyboard and the English language...after 3 weeks on vacation in Austria.
What I really want to do is photograph, anyway... so I should probably get started on figuring out how to set up a photoblog.

reporting from Austria

so, here I am ...in Austria ...visiting my friends and family. it is beautiful here right now...beautiful and deceiving or so I wonder. Deceiving, for I am being lured in; so much that I actually answered a job posting in the newspaper yesterday. I really don`t know what my plan is. I have been thinking about moving back to Austria for a few years now but when people ask me about it I´d always refer to a non-specific near future (a couple of years). I love New York and I love the people I have met and become friends with there. One of my great passions is street photography and one of my main on-going projects are the streets of the Bronx. However, fact is that my children would have a better life here where I grew up. There are so many reasons .. or so I think.
So, just for the heck of it I looked at the newspaper classifieds with the intention to just get a rough idea what kind of jobs are out there in this little small a** state. Interestingly enough, the first ad I looked at seemed like the perfect job for me. Everything they listed on their list of job duties appeared exciting to me. So, I thought, let me apply. If I don´t do it now...when am I going to do it? Will I ever jump that hurdle? And if they take me..then I suppose that´s an omen.
So I wrote my 2-page application letter describing my unsual circumstances (applying while being on vacation; still got a home and job in NY, etc.), patched together my CV and off I went to personally hand in my application. It so happened that the contact person (the HR guy, I suppose) was still in the office when I arrived 10 minutes to 5 and I actually got a brief interview (in my shabby pants and my americanized -i.e. fresh - attitude). Before I left, I asked him what kind of person they had in mind for the job and he told me that I would be such a person (my resume covering almost all criteria) but they had just published the ad two days ago and were already flooded by applications. So, I´ll hear back from them.
Secretly, I am afraid of getting the position, for it would mean such a drastic change in my life, which I am not sure I am prepared for. Also, I love New York...and this decision would be solely for my children. Last but not least, I wouldn`t know how to tell my boss. When I left, he actually said to me "You better come back!",) well, let's see where life takes me (us).

Ironically, I just started reading Paul Auster`s "Oracle Night". It`s a story within a story within a story. Pretty cool. One of the stories (first tier down) is about a guy who radically changes his life from one day to the other. Actually...I`m going to read now, although it is past 2 a.m. here.

this european keyboard is driving me nuts. all the letters are switched around and if I wanna type an @ sign I have to press CTRL+ALT+Q .ugh.

and so the air-travel panicking begins

so, we're flying out to Austria tomorrow...and it seems like there are way too many plane-crash stories coming to my attention. Sunday I walked into the living room and got caught up in the beginning of Final Destination, which Carla had just switched to on the TV. If you know the movie it has one of the most intense scenes I have ever seen. It's just very freaggin' scary. In the beginning of the movie, the main character has a preminition/dream that the plane he is sitting on is going to crash...he basically lives the moment....thinks it's real..every detail...until he wakes up and finds himself sitting on the plane (still on the run-way). So, he panics and gets off, drags a couple of pissed-off people with him, and then the plane really explodes, only a moment after it takes off.
Then, yesterday... I hear this story on the news...of this girl in Coney Island who just didn't feel well being in the plane, made the pilot land, got off and then watched it crash. (I'm not sure if she watched it crash...but the point is ...the damn thing went down and everyone died).
http://www.nydailynews.com/front/story/312535p-267388c.html

WHY? Why do I have to hear sh*t like this a day before I'm supposed to step on a plane, which I already hate by default. In addition to this all, I would never be the person who actually gets off the plane because I have a bad dream or I am scared it might crash. If I did that I'd never fly home again. I'm way too rational for that.
Anyway, in case I die, ... well...that would suck....cause my whole little family is with me...so I can't even write a quick will or anything. Which reminds me, I did by the Willmaker Pro (software to write your own will)...I should get that done sometime soon.... this is what you have to do when you have kids.
ok. enough about the scary stuff. I will now move on to "repression"-mode.

stress relief realization

There's one thing I've come to realize.... my best stress buster is to care less. Now, this is difficult, for you don't want to become someone who just doesn't care, so I should probably be more specific about this strategy.Care less about the little things. Care less about things said or done to you by others, regardless on how they've affected you personally (i.e. how much stress something would usually cause you). See the big picture. How does something relate to the big picture? Does it make sense to let something emotionally upset you if it isn't relevant to what is really important. If you can "let it go" let it go as quickly as you can. It's wasted energy to stress about something that has already happened. Just modify future behavior.Now, I should probably say that my realization of this stress relief strategy doesn't mean I can just pull it off like that. It takes constant self-reminding and inner peace doesn't just happen from one day to the other. But I did notice how well it works when I actually am able to apply this kind of trouble tackling. The tension just fades away and I refocus on what is more important in my life.

I just noticed...this is basically the essence of that quote I recently found (the serenity prayer?)...Accept the things I cannot change.

what they found on ebay

so, as I sit here for the 4th night in a row..working late on my class project (-taking an "Advanced Digital Photography & Contemporary Art" class this semester-)...I am watching Jay Leno again for the first time in many many months.
So, now they have this new segment in the show called "What we've found on e-bay" and really this makes me wanna quit my job and try to make a living searching for religious memorbilia (hmm..I'm too lazy to look up how to spell this...the Austrian in me turns around in shame)...
Anyway, so here it is.
A dorito chip shaped like the pope's hat (or dome or whatever you call it...NO, I'm not going to look this up either...you know what I'm talking about)... it was sold for $1,500 DOLLARS!
You think this is bad? ... A piece of toast which looked like someone had scratched a smiley face into it and then claimed it to be some appearance of a runaway bride (who the F is Jennifer Wilbanks??) went for 15,400 US DOLLARS!!!
I don't get this. I reeaaaaally don' t get this. Somebody please explain how this is possible.
http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&category=1469&item=5577795202&rd=1

And if that isn't enough, there was someone else who sold a toast with a Jennifer Wilbanks "appearance" a few days before that for $4,000. Ok, let's say you actually believe this is just some sort of appearance...wouldn't you wonder about the authenticity of the second toast going up for auction?
Unbelievable. This country is amazing.
;)

does this qualify as blasphemy?

Maia playing with available "dolls" at grandma's house. Gotta use what's there, I suppose. So there's Jesus on the cross, some saint which she is making ride the golden horse.....and a few other figurines that work for her just fine. ...Isn't this a bit blasphemic? Well, I thought it was funny, at first...so here is the image..

maia quotes

I've been trying to explain to Maia (who just turned 3 in January) what it means when words "rhyme". Today we actually did some Pre-K excercises and she began arguing with me that 'train' rhymes with 'truck' and certainly NOT 'plane'. I suppose, she meant they are more similar in looks and they both start with "tr".
So I said, "honey, 'truck' doesn't SOUND like 'train', does it? to which she put her ear onto the picture of the truck and said "the truck doesn't SOUND like anything, mommy."

I guess, she won't be getting that concept for a while. ;)

She's really cute nowadays. So many conclusions and statements that are just hilarious, ...mostly because they are so random.
Friends of ours (John and Carla) are staying with us for a few days after having lost their place (sort of). So, this morning Maia comes in the bedroom and proclaims
"Mom, ..... I like Carla a lot. I like Carla and bunny rabbits."
usually she'll tell you she likes horsies, and giraffes (which she insists on pronouncing /girraffiiees/...emphasis on the last 'e'.)

Veronica Mars

ok. I have to finally admit it (because I need to rant about it). I am addicted to "Veronica Mars" (UPN9, Tuesdays at 9pm...well, not anymore...since tonight was the season finale).
The last episode of the season was really an All My Children meets Scream kinda flick....but I loved it except for the fact that you do not know who comes to her door at 3 o'clock in the morning at the very end of the show. Why would they end it that way? why? why?

arghh.
well, I would like it to be....hmm..Logan, even though I hated that guy 'til almost right to the end.
(this will mean, of course, nothing to all of you who do not know the series....which probably is everyone over 18. ... yes, I am addicted to a teenie show. AND what?! HA? .... but seriously....Veronica Mars is a pretty well written show.)

the end.
I'm out. good night. (the dog slept on my pillow when I was out...have to go change the damn sheets now.)

Thank God for 'The Breakfast Club'

today I worked from home. bad idea. i got stuck in front of the computer all day. didn't budge except to make coffee and to finally walk the dog around 4pm. my back is killing me. when d got home we decided to take out the girls for a walk. another not too great of an idea. while the trip to the playground wasn't all that bad, the attempt to get food afterwards turned into a nerve-wrenching evening hogger.Dario got the idea to get food at this little Spanish place in the neighborhood we used to live at. In the ghetto, might I add. Probably one of the hottest drug-spots in the area. 183rd Street in the Bronx. But there is a restaurant there which just knocks you off your feet...if you wait long enough for the food, that is.We waited 45 (!) minutes, which seemed like an hour and a half with two small, tired, cranky and hungry children.
"What are they doing in there?", I snapped,"slaughtering the damn cow?"
"You're the one who wanted mashed potatoes", Dario shot back, "and that takes time."
"This is a restaurant. One would assume they have some boiled and ready-to-go potatoes lying around." I added really not trying to have the last word.
When the food finally did arrive, I got to have about a bite and a half until we had reached the kids' utter edge of patience. It was the best bite of mashed potatoes and pepper steak I had in years. Unfortunately, it lay in my stomach like a rock from all the stress I had been eating it with. On the way home, I finally convinced Nayla to shut up (she had been whining continuously for about 20 minutes) by turning up '50-cent' real loud. I'm not sure if she was startled by it or if she enjoyed it but it worked. At home (after the kids were finally put down) I made things all better by watching 'The Breakfast Club' twice in a row (for the 800th time in my life). I can't help it. Everytime I happen to channel-surf and I come across this movie, I get stuck. And tonight, they played it back-to-back, so I got stuck twice.
ok. time to hit the sack.
got a sh**-load of work to do tomorrow.

Maia notices people come in different colors

so, this is Maia talking to Petrina ... our black friend/neighbor from upstairs.
(note: Petrina is wearing a tank-top...not running around naked).

Maia: Petrina, your boobies are brown!
P: yes, I know.
M: why are your boobies brown?
P: because I'm brown.
M: my mommy's boobies aren't brown.
P: that's because your mommy isn't brown.
M: .......do you like being brown?
P: yes, I love being brown.
M: and your baby is brown, too.
P: yes, he is.
M: he's so cute.
;)

I feel better now. Last week one of the teacher's at her Pre-school told me that when the semester started Maia didn't want to go into the block room because the block room teacher "has funny hair." (dread-locks) I was so embarrassed, when they told me this. I wanted to say, ..."I swear, I'm not telling that girl anything. She just comes up with stuff. Although, she is addicted to Barbie and that seems to be her standard of non-funny hair at the moment. (SEE, I knew it ...that damn Barbie was gonna come around and bite me in the ass.)" but that would have sounded incriminating, so I just let it be and hoped they would understand that kids will be kids.

what moms really want for mother's day

i don't know if this makes me a bad mother, but I just wanted mother's day off. I wanted to abandon everything and go pretend I'm 18 without a worry in the world. At 18, of course, I saw things differently. Back then I thought I'm getting my midlife crisis 10 years early. I just didn't know what to do with my life. Anyway, my mother's day morning was already filled with the routine drama of a household with small children ...and the sleeping-in plan didn't work out whatsoever... unless you count sleeping until 7.45 and then being interrupted every twenty minutes while you're trying to get back to REM until finally giving up at 9.15 am. Boy, was I cranky at that point and let me tell you it's no fun when you can't act upon your crankiness, for everyone is trying to be nice to you. But when you have a 3-year old yell "happyyy Mooother's Dayyy" at you every five minutes when all you want is either a chance to go back to sleep or a double-dose of Red Bull things aren't looking to good on the "I'm-going-to-have-a-swell-day" track. It took me until about noon to accept my fate that I will not get the day off, even though I tried to hint at it repeatedly. My brother-in-law called me "not normal" for wanting to spend Mother's Day" by myself. I told him that I firmly believed all mothers secretly would like to use "mother's day" as an excuse to justify time for themselves, right after their family has let them sleep in, and provided a big breakfast to celebrate and appreciate their year-round dedication.

So, the rest of the day was spent according to Maia's plan, which she disclosed to me rather early in my hectic morning. She told me, Mom, I want to go get some banilla ice-cream and then I wanna go ride a pony and go yiiiihaaa and then I wanna go to the park. She didn't even wait for an answer and ignored my comment that this was supposed to be my day, hence the name "mother's day". She just walked into her room, got out a set of clothes and got dressed. When she was done she asked me where her coat was. Mind you I'm still sitting there in my pajamas...quite in awe about her determination and the fact that she just dressed herself entirely when I need to drag her by her ears to get her dressed on an average day.
Since I had nothing better to do and my secret plans seemed to not be working out, I gave in and we went for ice-cream and pony-rides by Orchard Beach.

other bloggers with too much time on their hands

this is quite funny.

read this first:
http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/57941224.html

and here the follow up:
http://approachingmidnight.blogspot.com/2005/02/apartment-to-share_04.html

After reading some of Daniel's blog (approaching midnight) I have added him to my "favorite blog list"..or wait, I called it "Blogs worth checking" ...see my sidebar links to the right.

mama goes underground

first of all, I have to once again emphasize on how happy I am to live in New York City. It is something about this place that makes it special. I fell in love with this city the first time I set foot here and that was over 10 years ago, as an au-pair, in the middle of a freezing winter-night (in the spur of a moment, we had jumped on a late train from Philly, where we au-paired, to go find and dance at the "Limelight" in New York. Maybe I'll tell that story another time.).

Anyway, tonight I went out to Brooklyn (Dumbo) to join this music jam party/performance combo (ShareDj something event...veeery cool and kinda avant-garde..but easy-digestible kinda avant-garde). I left the house at almost 11 pm, driven by guilt and loyality at the same time. My good old friend Gammon (from Austria) was in town with his band (Thilges3) to play a few gigs. He had told me about this months ago, and I had been looking forward to this just as long. Of course, the night of the first concert came and went. I didn't make it. The night of the second concert (thursday) I was determined to go and planned to abandon all motherly duties at 6.30pm sharp until the moment I received a phonecall from Dario (around that time) informing me of his running late. (ARHGGGH) ...fine, so momma was back on call...I start bathing the kids, get them ready for bed, etc. etc.
Dario finally shows up shortly before 8. Concert starts at 8.30 in SoHo but, I'm no 21 anymore. Me needs layers of make-up and the like, as well as heavy defrizzing action of appearing-zero-gravity hair due to earlier bathroom-moisture-exposure.
Finally leave house (dragging along friend Marta) at 8.30. Return to house at 8.40. Forgot directions. Traffic horrible. Get to SoHo at 9.30. Pay 5 bucks to get in. See last song of Gammon's band performed. ...
Soo, naturally I felt bad. Gammon was a bit disappointed, too... missing both concerts....mhm mhm mhm. I told him, it wasn't my fault but he accepted no excuses for lateness. I told him we'll talk again when he has kids ;) Then we went to the "Pink Pony" somewhere around there to eat and hang with the rest of his musician-friends. Apparently all of them had some kind of fame to them but ignorant as I am nowadays (concerning the music industry) I didn't know any names. One of them used to be the drummer for Iggy Pop... at least, one name I knew ;). Ask me something easy. (who is Jason Timberlake...wait...ehm...Timberland....ok, I guess, never mind...I can't even keep up with in-your-face-all-the-time pop culture).
Anyway, I promised Gammon I'll be there Sunday. Little did I know the Sunday event was set for 10pm in Brooklyn (gasp). I couldn't skip that one. Tired as I was today (got up 7am), I made myself some strong coffee, called everyone I know to please come join me on the long ride as to not fall asleep behind wheel, and finally got my friend Jessie to volunteer. Introduced (?) some more caffeine to system in form of Red Bull (that's why I'm still freaking up and typing, thank you very much) and hit the road. Getting there wasn't too hard; a bit unsettling (creepy but apparently hip neighborhood....well, maybe by day-light) but not too hard; To get into the building of the party we had to type in a code which we got from a voicemail number I copied from the web. It looked like an old (abandoned) ware-house building but once we stepped into the loft where the event was set, we entered a world of high-tech overload. Everyone was sitting or standing around with laptops, synthesizers, musical instruments, video cameras, projectors, and other gear. There were three screens to project the videos, which were being produced by the guests and the room was filled with music which seemed like a jamming session of electronic frequencies...surprisingly pleasing to the groove-nerves... There were maybe 40 or 50 people. I ran into Gammon and he informed me that I, once again, had missed a very cool performance of Thilges3...but, of course, he was happy I came down, regardless.

So, Jessie and I sat down on the floor and listened to the next group, which started just a few minutes after the general jam-session people where having. I quit smoking years ago but I lit a cigarette to puff on (yes, I still like the taste) just because I could. The performing duo was absolutely fantastic.
It was just a woman singing (adding beats and other sounds with her i-book), accompanied by a guy on an e-guitar (or..shit, was it a bass? this is embarrassing... I don't remember...all I know is that he also manipulated the sound of his instrument.... but I was so captured by this woman's beautiful voice, I barely paid attention to the guy. They call themselves "Gustav" ... and they reminded me a little bit of "Portishead".) .... click here to listen a bit

Anyway, so now it's almost 3 o'clock in the morning and I have so much caffeine in my system I could probably break night. I already walked the dog, cleaned the kitchen, got ready for bed... oh well, I guess I'll be surfing the net for a bit more.
so long ma' peeps. ;)

"kids say the darnest things"

Are 8-year-olds really that wise already?? If these "interviews" are real then I'm in for a surprise (maybe I should move out of the city before it's too late)...I didn't know anything about that stuff until I was in my teens, I think...
;) still... funny stuff.

> HOW DO YOU DECIDE WHO TO MARRY?

>>You got to find somebody who likes the same stuff. Like, if you like sports, she should like it that you like sports, and she should keep the chips and dip coming.
* Alan, 10

>> No person really decides before they grow up who they're going to marry.God decides it all way before, and you get to find out later who you're stuck with.
* Kirsten, 10

> WHAT IS THE RIGHT AGE TO GET MARRIED?

>> Twenty-three is the best age because you know the person forever by then.
* Camille, 10

>> No age is good to get married at. You got to be a fool to get married.
* Freddie, 6

> HOW CAN A STRANGER TELL IF TWO PEOPLE ARE MARRIED?

>> You might have to guess, based on whether they seem to be yelling at the same kids.
* Derrick, 8

> WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR MOM AND DAD HAVE IN COMMON?

>> They both don't want any more kids.
* Lori, 8

> WHAT DO MOST PEOPLE DO ON A DATE?

>> Dates are for having fun, and people should use them to get to know each other. Even boys have something to say if you listen long enough.
* Lynnette, 8

>> On the first date, they just tell each other lies and that usually gets them interested enough to go for a second date.
* Martin, 10

>WHAT WOULD YOU DO ON A FIRST DATE THAT WAS TURNING SOUR?

>> I'd run home and play dead. The next day I would call all the newspapers and make sure they wrote about me in all the dead columns.
* Craig, 9

> WHEN IS IT OKAY TO KISS SOMEONE?

>> When they're rich.
* Pam, 7

> >The law says you have to be eighteen, so I wouldn't want to mess with that.
* Curt, 7

> >The rule goes like this: If you kiss someone, then you should marry them and have kids with them. It's the right thing to do.
* Howard, 8

> IS IT BETTER TO BE SINGLE OR MARRIED?

> >I don't know which is better, but I'll tell you one thing. I'm never going to have sex with my wife. I don't want to be all grossed out.
* Theodore, 8

>> It's better for girls to be single but not for boys. Boys need someone to clean up after them.
* Anita, 9

> HOW WOULD THE WORLD BE DIFFERENT IF PEOPLE DIDN'T GET MARRIED?

> >There sure would be a lot of kids to explain, wouldn't there?
* Kelvin, 8

> HOW WOULD YOU MAKE A MARRIAGE WORK?

> >Tell your wife that she looks pretty even if she looks like a truck.
* Ricky, 10

sunday at the reptile show :/

so while other husbands (e.g. my friend Johnny) took their wives to cool spots such as the SoHo Apple store and little pastry shops in the village, my husband dragged me to the Yonkers Annual Reptile show, where I waited an hour and a half in the car only for him to come out with a bunch of geckos that resemble these cats without hair (i.e. disgusting) which he just couldn't resist buying. Granted I did finally do some reading after I got bored looking at the passing excentric show-visitors (leatherpants, wallets on chains, and hair dyes inspired by the colors of the rainbow).

He's put the geckos in a tank on the kitchen counter. Won't be eating there again, thank you very much. He's feeding them crickets now (ieeehhhw.)

Maybe, I'll set them free. freeeee.
Poor animals. ... Dario says I'm a hypocrite and I'd better turn vegan with that attitude. He's right... but you know ... at least, I buy eggs only from cage-free hens...and I don't eat veal. But yeah, I am being a hypocrite.

isn't this discriminatory?

so, I went out with Rosa last night to try and catch a movie. We never made it due to two major accidents on 96th Street (one on the north side and one on the south side). We managed to exit just before everything came to a complete still-stand (north and south). When we drove back up-town 2 hours later, people were still stuck behind the south-side accident scene, sitting on the roofs of their cars, waiting. To think what difference just an instant makes. Had I taken a minute less in the bathroom before leaving, I don't know what part of that accident we would have been in. I wonder what happened to the people in the flipped over car ... or the ones in the completely smashed one on our side...
Moments like this bring me back to my perpetual state of accident paranoia. I think this is why I never have had an accident and I've been driving since I'm 13 (obviously, legally only at 18..in Austria, that is.). I am humble enough to never underestimate life in traffic. I always feel lucky to make it from point A to point B, and never take it for granted (and I'd say I'm not a bad driver, at all). There are other people I know, however, who are so sure of their driving they never seem to travel with this fear in the back of their minds. Take Dario, for example. How this man makes it anywhere the way he drives remains a mystery to me...but I am grateful for whatever it is that keeps that man out of trouble. He is a speed demon, runs red lights, cuts people off, makes u-turns out of this world...it took me years to get used to it and to stop bitching. Sometimes it's even funny to hear the quiet snap of the backseat buckle and passengers' transformation from relaxed to concerned, when they first ride with him.

Anyway, so we didn't make it to the movie and instead strolled around Times Square which was, at 11p.m.(!), still packed with people. This is why I love New York. The city never sleeps.
Rosa's wish was some time in Virgin Records. When it was my turn, I decided we could use a bit of dancing. And so we trooped over to one of my old clubbing-spots - La Escuelita - a gay (men's) club on 39th Street. Thursdays used to be best to go there. It was always packed, pumping and I could dance as dirty as I wanted to without any worries of some dude trying to come rub up from behind. Also, gay men know how to partyyy....so we always had a blast. At 2a.m. they always had a drag-queen show, which was just great. And the whole thing cost us 3 bucks to get in. Now, this isn't too long ago. Maybe 2 years since I went the last time. On Thursday nights, the club was always frequented by mostly gay men but also plenty of straight girls and some straight men.
Yesterday, however, Rosa and I were stopped at the door.
"Boys only, tonight," the bouncer said towering over us.
What? I was in shock. Since when? Why? Can they do that? Come ooon.
"You can come tomorrow," was the bouncer's reply.
"Tomorrow is lesbian night and that defeats the purpose of me coming here. Then it'll just be some girl trying to come on to me," I said, moping.
"You sure are vain," Rosa laughed, probably happy she didn't have to go to a club at midnight. ;)
So, I've been thinking about this. Can they do that? Isn't that discrimination based on the list of those things one's not to discriminate about? ...gender..

hmmm. either way...this sucks. this was a great clubbing spot.

blogging time

it's been a bit hard to find time to blog lately.
this is an update of what I've been doing... so if you're looking for an semi-interesting anecdote, check back in a few days when I hope to have posted something less boring than my to-do-list.

First of all, I've been taking a class this semester. I graduated in 2000 but taking a class once in a while adds some diversity to my day....HA HA..like I need more shit to do. But seriously, I'm glad I have a different kind of pressure in my daily routine. The pressure of getting stuff done for class. So, this is a digital photography & contemporary art class. The book we're reading is way too avant-garde for me (they call that photography?) but I love the fact that I have projects and critiques and an exhibition to prepare for.
The up-coming exhibit, of course, adds stress. I have decided to do interviews in combination with my photographs and I totally underestimated the work involved when doing interviews about people's life stories. I bought the "Illustrated Guide to Radio" from >This American Life, one of my all-time-favorite radio shows. If you have a few minutes to spare, I highly recommend you listen to one or two of their stories (all archived on their website). They have great (and, of course, real) stories.
If I had the time I'd be stalking Ira Glass to absorb some interview tips. Also, ...I'd have to be in Chicago...so Ira, you're off the hook. ... Look at me, talking to Ira, as if I knew him...or as if he'd read my blog ...HA .. time for some coffee to fix the loose connections in my brain.

ok. I'm back. coffee steaming next to me.
My friend Shelly just told me about this article she read in the Financial Times or something like that. Anyway, they calculated the following:
If you buy ONE grande mocca from Starbucks every day for five years you'd spend about the same amount you'd need for a downpayment on a house in Westchester (nice suburb of NYC). Now, I didn't do the math to double-check this statement but if this is true then I would have had the downpayment for a house in freakin' Fieldston years ago. (non New Yorkers: Fieldston is the mansion part of the Bronx/Riverdale.).
In light of these calculations I then made my way to get coffee at the diner instead of the Starbucks joint. I don't like Starbucks coffee anyway but I'm a sucker for their mocca.
In general, I'm more of a Dunkin' Donuts kinda girl.

ok. I should be working. so, I'll continue blogging later. thanks for stopping by and never lose faith when I haven't written for a while. I'll always be back. I've got way too big of a mouth to keep it shut. (and to the dirty minds in the audience: get your mind out of the gutter!)

Handling Tantrums

I wrote this in a half hour for Maia's pre-school's newsletter (and since I didn't find time to blog this week I am posting this. If you aren't a parent, don't bother reading it...it's a bit corny, I think) :
----------------------------------------------------------
If there is one thing I hate dealing with it’s when Maia goes into temper tantrum mode. I have to be so adult and collected when really I want to scream right back at her for being so “irrationally angry” about that candy-bar I’m not giving her, or the dress she’s not allowed to wear because it’s 8 degrees outside.

Of course, I know the steps I should be taking when my little one goes into this inaccessibility mode, however, it’s another story to apply these steps. In the past (before having my second child last year), I’ve been obsessive about researching parenting issues but sometimes I need a reminder. Lately I’ve been so exhausted from work, school and two small children, I’ve resorted to watching Super Nanny or Nanny 911 on TV instead of picking up a book. But hey, if they can tame those little monsters on the show within a week then they must be doing something right. If this isn’t all staged, that is. ;)

Anyway, I’m a perfect example of today’s modern (somewhat educated) parent. I mix and match all kinds of advice and the other day I actually applied a word of wisdom I heard from that English super nanny on TV.
The show featured one family, which included a mother just as stubborn as her little daughter. Instead of dealing with the strong-minded child’s emotions, the mother let her own high-strung feelings get in the way and would just lock the screaming kid in a room for a time-out. Granted, the child threw a cup of water at her mother to get this punishment, it still wasn’t the right approach to deal with the situation effectively. Somehow I identified. Maia can truly get me to a point at which I feel utterly powerless, my nerves almost at the edge. If it were the olden days I’d be spanking her all day long (just kidding, she’s not that bad…especially as she’s getting older). However, I am really glad that I am an educated parent, for it reminds me of the fact that I am dealing with a small child and not an adult. She lives in a different world.
So, when Maia began falling into a tantrum stage the other day, and I was about to sit her down on her time-out chair to cool off, I did one thing different (Super Nanny in the back of my mind;). Instead of leaving her to scream it out for a few minutes, I gave her two options. I said: “Maia, you can stay here in time-out to scream and cry or you can calm down and talk to me. What do you want to do?” She took a deep breath, controlled her outburst and told me straight-up: “Talk to me, please.”
I couldn’t believe she actually told me what I was supposed to read between the lines. I felt so guilty for almost ignoring her emotions and just having her scream it out. They want us to talk to them. To hug them. To listen to them. At least, Maia does.
And that’s what I did. I listened to her and I gave her alternatives to the things she could not have. I said: “Honey, you cannot come with me right now but you could play a computer game for a little bit, have some gum, and when I come back we’ll go to the park. Ok?” This schedule update seemed to work. She knew what was coming and it helped her cope with the fact that she could not come with me at that moment.
Then I gave her a big hug and a kiss and I could feel her appreciation for this affectionate behavior even though we had just been bumping our heads. She knows I love her even when I’m angry and I tell her all the time.