Turn that smile upside down

This story is all kinds of sad and for some reason it's the fact that Travis went to die in his sleeping quarters that's really getting me. Also the butcher knife thing. Wouldn't you keep a taser or something on hand for these situations? Or maybe this is just so unheard of. Regardless I'm glad I never had to deal with anything like this with Fred The Jade Plant.

A moment of silence for Fred

Blog readers, I have some bad news. Fred the Jade Plant has left us for the great garden in the sky. In fact, he shuffled off his mortal coil a few weeks ago but I haven't thrown him out yet because I've been thinking I need to take a picture so I can make a touching tribute video highlighting the impact he's made on our lives. But I don't think I'm going to get around to doing that. So basically a very dead Fred has been sitting on my kitchen table for three weeks getting deader and more shriveled with each passing day and instead of giving him a proper burial I just look at him and think "Huh, I should do something about that." What kind of monster am I?!

But I choose to remember Fred as he looked in his youth.

Fred as a young houseplant

Brooklyn can't keep its hands off me

Yesterday I went to this cute little antique or secondhand store near my apartment that had all this cool old furniture which smells cool and old and maybe a little like mothballs, but very hip vintage moth balls, not mass produced moth balls. I mean, the craftmanship that went into these balls. The elbow grease and the sweat. Someone labored over these balls. You don't find that in the city. So anyway I was talking with the woman who worked at the store because I can be garrulous and winning when I so choose, or when the moment chooses me, I mean, who's to say you know? So we're talking and she asks how long I've been in the neighborhood and I tell her three days and she comes out from behind the counter to give me a hug and say welcome to the neighborhood. It was so sweet I almost cried! And then I told my sister later that day and she almost cried! It's like we're just so relieved that anyone likes me! And then today I met my landlord's wife and daughter (they live above me) and they were super nice and gave me a sweet housewarming gift (a cute teapot and some tea) and told me I was home now and if there's anything I need not to hesitate to ask and she gave me a hug and it was so nice I almost cried. And then I told my parents and they almost cried! I'm telling you, it's like I've never known the touch of other human beings or something. Anyway, photo tour? I think so:




Here's me on moving day in the middle of the WORST allergy attack ever. I think my nose was swollen. I cannot emphasize enough how bad this allergy attack was. It was like a cat exploded on my face. And not in a good way. A less confident person would burn this photo, not upload it, but what the hell. I dare you to love me.

Here's one of the pieces of furniture I bought from the antique store near my apartment. Usually I like white furniture but new borough, new woodstain. Also, don't I look like a fussy little old man with this nightstand? You can't really tell but there is an umbrella and a bottle of aspirin on the shelf. It's the umbrella that makes me look geriatric for some reason. I should also stick a hot water bottle under there. And my reading glasses, even though I don't use reading glasses.
Oops, out of order. Here's me on moving day, transporting my precious plants. That's me with no makeup, by the way. None.


Here's the adorable teapot I received as a housewarming gift from my landlord. I also received a tin of tea but that isn't in this photo.



Here's another piece of furniture I bought from the antique store. Doesn't it kind of look like a smiley face or the face of a robot/computer in an 80s movie? I liked it until I wrote that.


Here's a lamp I bought at this little furniture store I discovered called Ikea. Who knew I like funky lamps? I didn't. But I do!


Here's a rounded edge bookshelf thing I bought from that store. Not Ikea, the other one.


I also bought a "secretary" although thus far this pink thing hasn't made me any coffee or filed anything.


Here it is, opened. It's blue inside! I totally didn't need this at all, however now that I have it I've made it my correspondence corner, in case I need to send anyone a postcard. Note: the last postcard I sent was in 1994.


Here's a bathroom storage thing I bought from someone off Craiglist. Now my whole bathroom smells like whatever hair products the person who used to own this used. It's a distinctive smell but I can't place it which is frustrating. I like to think I know my Garnier from my Aquanet from my Sebastian.


I love ducklings but I realized that the love I have for my dishwasher is a close second. I LOVE this dishwasher. A friend of mine told me he finds doing dishes relaxing. I find not doing dishes relaxing.

Inside my dishwasher.


Remember how I said my freezer smells like asparagus? Well asparagus, you've met your match. I'm tackling the problem head on. This baking soda was lovingly shot and backlit in my freezer.
And lest that smell think of laying down roots in my fridge? Think again.

I guess that's all for now.

dogs, parents

I think my dad just kind of encouraged me to get a puppy! It's pretty sad that at my age I still need my parents' approval for basic life decisions—like inviting adorableness into my heart and home—however I would have guessed they wouldn't think I was mature enough to get a dog—which is also funny since I suspect they think I'm mature enough to have a child. Speaking of, I should water Fred.

The actual plant discussion

The following will only be interesting to people invested in the drama that is my sister and I both naming our plants Fred. Now, to be fair, eight hundred years ago she went out and bought brown Doc Martens, and then I went out and bought the same ones even though I'm older, which may have created an irreparable tear in the older sister/younger sister dynamic. Which is to say: perhaps I had this coming.

[More about the Doc Martens, you ask? Well she was really into My So-Called Life at the time. I think she even was mistaken for goth around then, which is rare for her since she's more sunny/colorful stylistically whereas I am kind of always mistaken for goth even though I'm so not goth. Except kind of recently someone who has known me a tiny bit for about ten years said, "Wow, I never knew you had such a twisted sense of humor" and then I asked him, if he's surprised to find this out, what did he think I was like for all these years. He said, "I just thought you were... normal."]

Anyway, here's the plant discussion:

My sister: Did I tell you I got a plant for my office?
Me: Yes.
My sister: I named him Fred.
Me: [slow burn] That's my plant's name.
My sister: Huh. No wonder it worked well.
Me: Yeah, Fred and Rita.
My sister: Rita's the other one?
Me: Yeah.
My sister: Rita looks skinny.
Me: Thank you!
My sister: Mine looks more like a Fred anyway.
Me: I highly doubt that. Wait, is yours Frederick?
My sister: No, just Fred.
Me: Well mine's, uh, Fredley.
My sister: Well then they don't have the same name.
Me: Yeah but no one calls him that!

My ascetic lifestyle; plants named Fred

Since placing my reproductive organs high on a shelf in a seldom opened closet and removing myself from the world of human entanglements/relationships/interaction for the most part except to shuffle around in a bathrobe and slippers, smoking a cigar, scratching my belly and yelling at neighborhood kids and then belching, I've been remarkably surprised how much I don't miss being out there. Maybe I really am dead inside, I'll occasionally think. There are certain things that penetrate the strange satiety though—strange because it seems unearned—and make me suddenly remember what it was like to go to parties and date and go to dinner and put on lip gloss with that nervous/excited feeling in your stomach. (now I just put it on with a "what's the point of it all" feeling mixed with a "damnit Sally Hanson, why did you have to discontinue Always Asher, WHY WHY WHY?" feeling) The things that get through to me? Well, certain people I've met in the midst of all this, and for some reason, the movie Walk the Line.

Wait a minute, my sister just told me she bought a plant for her office and named it Fred. I told her my plant was named Fred and she said her plant looks more like a Fred than mine. THOSE ARE FIGHTING WORDS!

I'm in CA

Sorry readers, didn't mean to be so cryptic. Or did I?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

Anyway, I'm back in California playing guitar at another wedding. Not really. I'm getting my hair straightened. Not really, I'm here for work. I thought it would be super awesome but now that I'm by the beach and on deadline(s) I'm realizing that I wish I were just on vacation! Not that I like the beach, but that the beach makes you want to be on vacation.

Could I possibly say and then negate anything more in the above paragraph? No. Get it?

I was thinking about liveblogging the flight, except I wouldn't be able to truly liveblog it since you have to turn off the internal transmitters of the [this is where my brain tunes out] but anyway, the things I would have said were:

1. I found a loogie sitting on the floor of the airplane bathroom. I thought of cleaning it up, and then decided that I didn't want to come in that close contact with it. Instead I had to basically do this uncomfortable hopping gyrating thing to move around in there so as to avoid accidentally dragging a shoelace through said throat snot. Just thinking about it makes me want to retch.

2. okay, maybe it was a small puddle of soapy water

3. I'm not sure though

4. it was about two inches from the toilet. I don't even want to think about what it was.

5. Foamy urine?

6. ugh

7. Hell's Kitchen is entertaining. I'd never seen it before. But Bobby? Infuriating!

8. Real Housewives of NYC is kind of boring.

9. Six hours and 17 minutes flying time is long time to try to get into a show.

10. The male flight attendant smelled good. First I thought he was albino and I was thinking that were I liveblogging this I would say that the flight attendant is albino, and I wonder if that's good luck. But by the end of the flight I'd totally come around to realizing he both had pigment and smelled good.

11. I really liked that band Belly. Liked/like. I was listening to King on the plane which I recently found and put on my iPod and then I was thinking that I listened to this album 13 years ago or something and am I a relic? Are my tastes fossilized? I liked/like Throwing Muses too and I still list them when people ask about my favorite bands, but I'd forgotten about Belly.

12. So then I decided to listen to Whatever Hits from the 90s or whatever it's called. But I only listened to a couple songs. I had to scroll past a lot of them.

13. I'm procrastinating.

14. I mean, the funny thing is that I don't even really like girl singers, or in the old days I didn't. With the exception of Kristin Hersh and Tanya Donnelly.

15. The old days being before I started playing in a band because I think that changed my tastes.

16. Tobey is as cute as ever, in case you're wondering.

17. Fred the Jade Plant and Rita the Golden Pothos (yes, I have another houseplant. I was waiting for the right time to tell you. Number 17 is as good a time as any) are doing well, for those who asked.

18. "Wouch" or "WOWCH" is what you should say when someone surprises you by saying something insulting. (wow + ouch)

19. Guyvice is when a guy offers you guy advice (guy + advice) except I was recently told that "guyvice sounds like a device to make my head explode."

The reading, the dream, the concourse, the chair

I went to Wendy's book reading last night but sadly got there after she'd already read because that's the kind of friend I am. It's the job, I tell you, I had to work late! I ran into another college friend who's just given notice to go freelance. "So you can watch TV, sleep and get a puppy?" I asked. He said YES in a way that is more affirmative than just a simple YES would imply. More like YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! "It's the freelance dream," I said, but up to that point I didn't quite realize how much the dog is part of everyone's freelance dream. And no, I'm not living that dream, but that's okay too because I have a jade plant named Fred and am working on a chest infection. Not really! Mom and Dad, if you're reading this, I feel a little hoarse and my throat hurts but chest infection really is going too far.

Today I discovered the labrynthian shopping concourse beneath the building I'm now working in which connects to the subway! I thought this would be a way to avoid the elements but it's pretty cold down there. Still, if it had been snowing I would have avoided the snow—except I left after the subway entrance closed. But I went to the underground Duane Reade earlier in the day and enjoyed the frigid covered access. On my way out of the building I stopped by the Red Eye green room, making my evening rounds, to say hello to my favorite makeup and hair people and anyone else I might know in there. I think I actually walked in and said "hi, I came to brighten your evening with the joy that is my presence." Then I complained for about 15 minutes and left. Not really. 12 minutes. Thursday I'll be in the hot girl chair I think, which is good except it means I can't wear my usual waist-down attire of hotpants and thigh high boots, which is what I'm always wearing in the newsroom when you just see me from chest up. Dang!

Fred will be so jealous

Because I agreed to do Red Eye on Valentine's Day. I plan to wear red. Or just a diaper while holding love's bow and arrow. Take the high road on that one please.

Also, speaking of Fred, despite my plans to stay home hanging with my houseplant while working on new moves to fold in (seamlessly, of course) to my competitive ice dancing routine, I just put in a full day at Page Six Magazine, where I'm acting as senior editor for a bit. I worry the ice dancing will suffer, is the thing.

Also, I felt that moment where I realized the lobby, which has always been about Red Eye for me, is about to become about Page Six for me. Does that make sense? And then some day I'll go to do Red Eye and it'll be like going to do a show in the building where I work or once worked, as opposed to now, where I'm still flummoxed by the elevators. "I'm going to one, are you going to one?" a man asked me today, by the elevator bank. I just stared at him, dumbfounded, as if he were speaking a foreign language which I once knew. Then I began drooling. The thing is that I've always prided myself on my ability to discern up from down—left and right not so much—and so if I lose that one I will be directionally challenged in 360 degrees, which is really going to suck. Some other sense will just have to overcompensate. Hopefully a useful one, like my sense of humor. Or my sense of which peppers are spicy. Or my sense of which movies are going to suck, except I really made a judgment error when I dragged my mom and sister to see Out to Sea.

I've come to care

...way too much about Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew. He's just so sage and knowing. And calm and serene. I interviewed him once. It was him and Adam Corolla. It was at the MTV Music Awards in 1997, back when I was 14. (Did I mention I'm 24? Because I'm not.) They were joking about Madonna's sudden British accent. Maybe it was 1998? Anyway, the point is that I hope Jeff Conway pulls through! Also, I search longingly through my DVR's "search by title" function for new episodes of Keeping Up with the Kardashians. The title is my go-to joke when I need to make fun of silly reality shows, which apparently is often, but between you and me there is nothing joking about my strange obsession with the show. I think it was from watching with bewildered curiosity the episode "Dude you're so pregnant" or whatever it was called. That guy that she almost married–such insouciant douchiness! And those cute puppies! And the way Bruce Jenner always looks taken aback because his face has been pulled into a permanent expression of surprise. What does insouciant mean? That's one of those words I repeatedly look up and forget. My brain refuses to latch on.

Also, my friend Rob got a dog. Rob and I were talking to each other recently at a party about how we both want to get dogs and are dangerously close to it and then he off and did it! The same dog he was talking about at the party that he'd seen on the internet! He is my hero for he is brave and not afraid to get a dog. Not that there's anything lacking in my relationship with Fred The Jade Plant though, because I experienced something close to vegetable nirvana earlier.

Now that I'm going freelance

...I have the time to open up my heart to something that can both give and receive love. Meet Fred:

Fred, getting ready to drop a one-liner

He's brand new but already I can tell we're going to get along great. Plus, he tells the funniest jokes!