Amber & What Dreams Are Made Of

So, I am still sickie and was sort of feverish last night and had this dream where I was with a group of friends and we were traveling on some islands off the coast of India in long boats and a lion (my subconscious is not geographically accurate) came out of the jungle and we were trying to hold still and then the lion came up from behind and stood up on his back legs and started taking small bites out of my neck but I was trying to hold super still so he would leave.

I wonder where that came from.

 

Amber & Meanwhile....

Lowell, the the World's Best Cat Sitter, sends this proof of cuteness in my apartment.

(Proof that Lowell is amazing?  Pickles is not only out from under the bed, but interacting with him. Cutely.)

They are all so good, and by "they" I mean Pickles, Woody and Lowell.

Amber & I'm Not Dead Yet

Photographic proof that I am quite the opposite.

Remember my professional colleague Alison?  She is here as a clue to my whereabouts.  I am, as you can tell, excited to see her.

Amber & The News from Upstate

James, our favorite bagpiping competitor and foodie, reports: "I got two silvers today. And midget chili dogs from Hot Dog Charlie's. It's been a productive visit to the state capitol."

And he sends these photos as proof of a) medals...

...and b) chili dogs.

Keep in mind that all of this is happening even further north than where I live.

Amber & Be Careful Crossing The Street

As Jimmy himself warns, "Stay off the roads, they're no longer safe."

Amber & Authentic Indian Cuisine

Jimmy sends this photo of a delightful and authentic Indian treat.

I can only assume he is bringing these with him when he comes out for a River visit.  I bet Diana will be excited.  I bet she ate lots of Dough Boy paratha on her trip to India.

Amber & Emergency Evacuation

My commute was two hours long this morning.  WTF, MTA?  I switched to the F at 49-50th Street only to have it stop in the tunnel.  For 30 minutes.  The automated robot voice kept saying we were stopped "while the train crew is investigating track debris."  But then the real live conductor came on and told us that there was a problem with the emergency brake.  I didn't pull it.  I swear.

Anyway, about 20 minutes into the stall, they announced we could leave the train through the front car and walk along a little ledge onto the platform at 42nd Street.  This was a scenario I had not planned for. I mean, I am ready if the Cloverfield monster comes, but I am not ready to go meet those little bug guys on their turf.

Luckily, after this traumatic experience, which also involved me discovering one of my significantly-located shirt-button-holes was too large and was venting my chest on its own, I had my new Eileen Fisher catalog to comfort me.  It's 72 pages on lovely over-sized paper with close ups of fabric.

Thank you, catalog porn.

Amber & Magnificent Animals

After a happy, rich seventeen years of life, complete with cross-country adventures including rubbing his fur in the dirt on a Navajo reservation and sharing six different apartments in three different states with his people, we are all sad to learn George has left us.  He was a noble beast, a proud, big boy with a yen for loving, and a good and honorable friend to Amy and David Bee.

He will be missed.  George, I am honored to have known and loved you.

Amber & Hallwalks

Even though Jesse Burgers are no more, there are lots of great things about living in what some Southern friends call "Canada," although I prefer to think of it as just "upstate Manhattan."  Namely, rents are what passes for reasonable, I have THREE closets (one just for coats), and there are amazing Dominican pastries.  But, one big downside is how long it takes to get anywhere thanks to the wholly unpredictable A train.  Of course, a little known fact is that about five minutes is added on to every commute for hallwalks.

Tiggy has passed the mantle of hallwalks on to her baby brother, and no departure from the house can be accomplished without first allowing Ginger to rub his face on every available surface on the stairs between our apartment and the roof.

He makes a mad dash up to the top of the steps to sniff the door to the roof, eat any dead spiders or flies he can find, and rub his cheek and tail on every available surface.

And then he plops down and plays "Vertigo Lookout" from the very highest point.

That usually lasts for a few minutes and then he decides he has had enough excitement and makes his "squee" noise and runs down the steps and back into the safety of our home.

Usually, Pickles and Tiggy are just inside the door, curious but happy to let Ginger explore on their behalf.  Woody is completely disinterested in hallwalks these days.  Sunshine is so much more enticing.

So, next time I come late to a function, just know that five of the tardy minutes were spent chaperoning important expeditions into the Great Unknown Hallway.  In Canada.

Amber & Closed By Court Order

Last week, Hip Hop Wear, the clothing wholesaler downstairs from my office, was closed by the fuzz for "sale of trademark counterfiet merchandise."  I imagine this means they were busted selling suits by Fobo, jackets by Rockawere, and Winged Victory of Samothrace sneakers.

This is not terribly sad for me; I was not emotionally invested in Hip Hop Wear, and I am sure another wholesaler will take the space soon enough.  Maybe one of those wig sellers which could be super fun.  (Who wants in on a wholesale wig order?)

Really, it just made me Remember.  Back in the twentieth century, I came back from a trip to Alaska to find that both drug-front bodegas downstairs from my Avenue B home had been closed by the Man.  Again, this wasn't sad.  It was surprising and the harbinger of things to come in the East Village, including $22 entrées and The Boxcar Lounge.

Of course, I don't really miss the East Village hipsters in my current hood, although we have plenty of our own brand of fashion divas who collect in gurgling pools on the side walks.

But, I do miss sitting at the bar in the Lakeside Lounge next to Sam Rockwell while doing my laundry and realizing, not counting his giant hair, we are about the same height.  Even though he clearly has significantly better dance moves.



And that of course, reminds me of how much I love Crispin Glover.  Yes, he is creepy and seems to have crazy head ALL THE TIME.  But that nose is so amazing.  I wish I had written this love song for Crispin Glover's jaw bones.



Or that I was in an all-black-haired girl rock band.

Amber & Some You Win, Some Not So Much

Who has patiently and persistently journeyed down the puff path long enough to rock pony tails?

This head.

And who decided that instead of practical rain boots she would wear her red plastic mary janes, originally bought for easy washing after tending to great and lesser apes and lemurs?

This frozen-footed dummyhead.

Amber & Some Things New, A New Thing Old

I feel like I am constantly in a struggle with the Entropy of Clutter in my home.  It's hard to carry out myself and the trash and the recycling--especially since the refuse area is down five flights of stairs, around the corner, and in an alley out behind the building frequented by what I like to think of as sleek-tailed squirrels.  And, I seem to accumulate stuff: direct mail samples, Fresh Direct boxes, books of to-do lists, cat fur, etc.  It's crucial to do a weekly Junk Round Up to make room for new, magical space-occupiers.  For example, I'd much rather have this weird sushi wind up robot that Nick gave me than a stack of Con Ed billson my desk.

(Seen here with Big Nose Felted Guy, another keeper from Nick.)

That's two pieces of inari on the left (my fave) and two pieces of tuna on the right.  And I can't show you because I got my phone before they invented video for iPhones (drat to early adapting), but the two sushis sort of bicycle up and down and round and round when you wind it.  Why?  Because it's amazing.

Gifts are not always keepers, but this new Ganesh statue that Diana brought back for me from India sure is.

(Like the mechanical sushi, Ganesh is not as blurry in real life.)

And that reminds me that my blurry-making phone is actually another place to collect wonderful, and muladhara chakra comforting, things.  Like this Ganesh application.

 (See how the bell is all lit up? You can pick it up and ring it. That is mostly what the app does.)

And, Jimmi referred me to this absolutely essential app where you can gong a mokugyo or the metal gong on the left and induce nagomi ("harmony").

(I won't spoil what "With Cat Mode" is.)

And, speaking of cats, this guy came to live with us a few weeks back.

(He's actually laying on a pile of books to return to other people, on the theme of getting rid of old stuff to make room for the new.)

This new buddy is actually an old artifact from the Boxing Day Heritage Booty.   I molded him from greenware, painted his eyes, paw pads and nose, and then glazed the heck out of him in ceramics class.  Proof?

Every great artist signs her work.  In 1981, I was apparently trying something new with my R's.

Amber & Awesomeness

Sigourney Weaver, cats, lasers, and intertextuality run amok.

Amber & Personal Computing

Katie, Nick and Rob are having personal laptop and/or smart phone
time. Earlier, Jeremy made this awesome tower while the spotted
palamino looked on. I have been playing Scramble. Days off.

Amber & Winter Nature

It sure is pretty here in the Delaware Water Gap. I'm going to take a
walk to explore the brook before the rest of the group arrives.

Amber & Quiet Car

Simmer down, people. This be the quiet car. You know what a library is?

Amber & I'm Off

Environments? Check. Lowell the World's Best Cat Sitter? Check. Kisses for each baby? Check. Boston, here I come.

Amber & Due to An Earlier Incident

Just when I thought the MTA had gifted you with all the celebrity, confusing service and squishedness you could handle for a weekend, I rode the train on a Saturday.  Silly rabbit.

The purpose of my journey was to pick up my first CSA winter share of the season and then celebrate the season in fellowship with Diana and Kevin.  To begin my trek, I walked down to 168th Street since it was posted in my stop that the train wasn't going north of there this weekend (which turned out to be false-- at least on my way home).

At 168th Street, there was a bulldozer driving up and down the train platform and then crossing over a make-shift bridge and unloading boulders onto a weird flat train.  This was an ominous start to what turned out to be a two hour ride (including no D service below 34th Street and a stalled A on the F line at Second Avenue).  That is the little bulldozer thing whizzing by on that train unloading thing at seemingly unsafe speeds while I waited for the downtown A.

Then, on the way home from a delightful day (which included beef stew and persimmon pudding), I went to Brooklyn.  There was no D service running from Grand Street, so I walked to the F at Delancey.  But then, there was no uptown F.  So, I had to take the F to Jay Street in Brooklyn to transfer to the uptown A which was running on the F track into Manhattan.  (Maybe you should get out a subway map just to follow along to see what an incredibly indirect route this really was.)

At Jay Street, though, I was rewarded by celebrity in the form of the Kristen Schaal who plays "Mel" on Flight of the Conchords and is a very funny Daily Show commentator.

(I chose the photo with the bird, Diana, since you liked that birdy page in Elle.)

This is Woody and me doing our impression of Kristen and her boyfriend making smoochie on the platform.

Anywhow, then the train came, and Kristen, her boyfriend, and I all got on.  Things were going swell, although mostly local, until 103rd Street when, as the conductor described it, "Something just hit our train."  Note the train did not do the hitting.  Anyhow, we sat on the train with the doors closed until a train crew arrived to check to make sure we hadn't run anyone over or a terrorist hadn't thrown a sticky bomb (I'm picturing a Wacky WallWalker with a dirty bomb in its backpack?) at us.


Once they opened the doors, there was a mass exodus.  But, as the lady next to me said, "How else would I get home?  The bus?  Puhleeze."  We even had one very angry fellow patron yell at us, "What are you bitches doing?  The train is broked.  Get your asses off."  Our decision to wait it out upset him.  But, another train wouldn't come since we were in its way.  And I just am not aggressive to fight an entire train's worth of folks for a spot on an uptown bus.  And who wants to go 70 blocks on a bus?  Puh-leeze.

Anyway, we started moving again after they determined that it was a soda can tossed off the platform at the incoming train.  And then we went express!  Whoooo!

So, two hours and 14 minutes later, I am home.  Still?  The persimmon pudding and the company of friends were worth the over four hours total time spent on trains underground.

Amber & More Famous Celebrities

This is Ginger and me doing our impression of Michael Richards squished up against me on the uptown C train after work. He got off at 81st Street. At that point, a man on the train said, to no one in particular, "Kramer.". And we all felt acknowledged. I also felt stupid for having thought a C on the express track would go express.

Amber & Amtrak

Trenton-bound! Can I please not go anywhere for one day? My root chakra is killing me.