i missed it (not surprising). but here’s a play-by-play by red
.tmp | Greenpoint Gas Tank Implosions
meanwhile, i am in the totally freaking out stage of my packing. i can’t see how everything’s going to get done, and i know i’m going to forget many many many things…. help…
some folks i know are organizing an implosion tea party to watch the old gas tank holders get demolished tomorrow morning. real early, 6am early. i had pretty much decided to skip it.
but – i was packing (yes – i have been packing.. it’s crazy), and i stumbled upon the perfect dress for an implosion tea party. i’ve never worn it cause i’ve been waiting for an occasion appropriately dressy and silly. like this one.. hmm.. i’ll have to give it some more thoughts.
in the meantime, yes this is a thin disguise for continued procrastination.
ack – why can’t i stop procrastinating?
must pack
must pack
must pack
will someone come give me a kick in the pants?
it’s a beautiful day out. sun is shining. lovely. the kind of day you really don’t want to have a nasty hangover. the going-away festivities were last night. it was really fun to see all my ny friends together. i realize i don’t see half of ‘em as often as i should. as usual this realization comes as one’s about to leave. oh well. that’s ok.
so it’s been a nice long while that i haven’t gone out and really partied. when i got home, i realized in horror that the sun was rising. i yanked the drapes shut so fast i knocked over a plant. then i dove into bed and hid into the covers trying to erase the daylight from my memory. there’s something unsettling about going to sleep as the sun rises. i dunno, i guess i’m a prude like that.
as soon as my headache goes away, i’ll start packing… err…
i was recently referred to emmanuelle.net. what better way to improve my french then try to read a french blog!? unfortunately, armed with my Pocket French Dictionary reading anything past 4th grade french takes me f o r e v e r !
i’ll work on that… as soon as my headache goes away… swear.
yes, i have been suspiciously absent lately.
yes, i’ve been sorta busy with my move.
the subletter came to pick up the keys and tie up loose ends today. she took a look at my room and blurted out,
“and you’re gonna be ready to leave on monday?”
i tried to explain that they were special “laundry piles.” i don’t think she bought it. i don’t think i did either.
so i’m back from LA tanned, mellowed, and parented. after my jaywalking rant, i had a pleasant exchange with josho about the love-hate relationship one feels with her city. josh’s got alotta ideas about the city of angels. check it out. maybe we’ll change our minds… i have been half-considering going back to the west coast when i let my mind wander out into crazy-land.
so i mostly haven’t written because i am so jittery about my move, that if i am not eating or sleeping i feel like i have to be doing something in relation to it. blogging? does that count?
while laying on the beach (i loooove the beach! let me count the reasons:
1. warm sand in between your toes
2. sound of the water + kids + faint radio sounds + your own breathing sounds
3. everybody’s equal at the beach
4. reminded that nobody’s body looks remotely like anyone on the cover of Self. (even in LA. it’s true. swear.)
5. you are supposed to do nothing, except maybe read
6. much thinking is possible )
soooo, while laying on the beach, i came up with a trillion things i need to make my page even more fabulous. as soon as i get settled in my new city, i’ll experiment.
if you are in montreal – you cannot miss Picasso Erotique. it was in paris, but not anymore. but maybe now that i’m some sort of jetsetter i can catch it in barcelona. it looks like a really great way to spend a saturday afternoon… and lead into saturday night and then maybe all day sunday… hmm..
i do know one hepcat in montreal. and it looks like he’s got his weblog up and running. take a peek.
~~
this is transcribed from a delta napkin on flight 88 (JFK to LAX):
on the plane. in an aisle seat. in the middle row. third from last row. sitting in the midst of a french family on vacation (oh the french, will they never relent?) The three kids are in the row behind. the father is next to me, the mother is next to him. he has the stale aroma of a smoker which wafts over to me every minute or so.
i read a nice story in Harper’s (i fucking LOVE Harper’s). It’s by Steven Millhauser. It had that sort of resonance where the language or the writing style work to shape my thoughts for the next while. Toni Morrisson does this to me for weeks. I like it.
in the story a woman is giving a tour of her house to a prospective buyer while recounting her husband’s adultery, her subsequent freak-out, and finally his death in a car accident. it’s a pretty sad story. well written. but sad.
i had an evening with JL last night. we haven’t seen eachother in months and, it seems, we have been going through similar emotions. mine being mainly reconciling traumatic events with the inevitability of time.
[ Note: a girl at the 4th of july party told me that the Aztecs use a verb for the word time. that's very hard to get your mind around, right? ]
so reading this story put a fine point on
my slump
my funk
and
my general malcontent
being sad elicits comments, well-meaning as they might be, like “it could be worse.” which was just the worst thing to say. because you know, i know, of course it could be worse. in fact, it will in all likelihood be worse at some point. and then? and then what? and i think to myself,
“i can’t handle the completely anticipated demise of a 6 month diversion. i can’t handle the loss of a stinky internet job. so what will happen when my husband of 24 years tells me he’s cheating on me? or what about when he dies? or what about when my parents do?? what then? could it be possible that i’d be too crazy to be in an institution? could i just disolve into a puddle of lunatic on the floor? what?”
and that’s some scary thoughts.
maybe heavy on the drama, i know. but there are reasons that i’ve been a mess. it’s not just because i’m a lunatic. which i am. i’m better now though.
JL thinks i’m a substance abuser. i find this funny. it’s hard to tell who’s deluded. i really haven’t thought twice about my self-medication. it’s all been legally prescribed, FDA approved.
[ Note: isn't it funny how new areosmith videos are in soft focus? ]
Postcard from Los Angeles
So here i am back in LA waiting for the “cloud cover to burn off” so i can head to the beach. really if it weren’t for the beach here…
now let’s say, me, a new yorker i can truthfully say after having just about rounded out 7 years here, came back to LA and on the first day here were to be crossing the street with her mother, a street is between 2 shopping malls. so let’s just say this new yorker steps on to the sidewalk when a slightly overweight cop in mirrored aviator sunglasses walks over purposefully and asks in his best crime-fighting voice, “I need to see ID for both of you ladies.” The two “ladies” keep walking because neither can see his eyes behind his mirrored aviator sunglasses and he can’t possibly be stopping 2 innocent shoppers just looking for a worthy store to support the economy in. But no, he is talking to them. he comes closer and when the 2 realize it they ask “what? why?.” “You two just jaywalked and that is against the law.” if you heard that story, it would be so cliche that it wouldn’t even be funny anymore. i mean they probably cut it out of LA Story for being too obvious.
i got a fucking ticket for jaywalking yesterday. jaywalking on a street that is in between two malls. TWO MALLS! and the cops were just sitting in the parking lot waiting for people to ticket. i was in such disbelief at first that i forgot my proper cop-etiquette. i was just like, “you are fucking kidding. can’t we just get, like, a warning”, and i was laughing. wrong wrong wrong. you can’t laugh at cops, you have to remind them that they are big strong powerful men who are protecting helpless big-breasted women from the terrors of the city. then they might let you off. but while he was taking an hour to write me a ticket, i regained my senses and stood silently with a pained and remorseful expression on my face. my mother, frozen the whole time, didn’t have her drivers license. after the hour of ticket writing (I mean come on there are like 6 blanks on the pad, how hard can it be?)i asked in a begging-for-mercy-from-a-big-strong-copper voice, “Can i just get the ticket? It was all my idea.” I realized after it came out of my mouth that the partially sarcastic, “It was all my idea” part was betraying the part a bit, but luckily he either didn’t notice, didn’t care, or didn’t have a clue how to write a ticket for someone without ID. anyway, clemency was granted for mom.
if it weren’t for the beach…
other signs telling you you are in LA:
- the weather girl is wearing a cutoff baby tee and stilletos
- they now have one of those snaking roped off lines for ice blended mochas at the coffee bean & tea leaf
more later..
Apple recalls PowerBook G3 AC adapters
This was 5 months away from being my AC adapter. nothing i’ve owned (as far as i know) has ever been recalled. i thought it might be kinda neat. kind of like winning the opposite of the lottery. picked by chance to recieve a special annoyance. But not the opposite of winning the lottery which would be to remain an unsingled out member of the masses.
yes, i’m silly. i know it.
yes it’s independence day and i actually came home, checked messages, email, etc. and began to read a link about Canada that i sent to a friend there. it made me, one slightly regret that i didn’t go up there to check it out, and two, slightly excited about defecting myself. yes it has happened that i am actually starting to look forward to leaving the good old USA.
was at the old rooftop at 53 N. 3rd to watch the fireworks as i had been for 4 years now. the first year was my partygirl year after college. (that was really fun). the second was like the hottest summer on the planet and when i went home there was blood on the stairwell and someone had been shot (that was awful). last year i stayed in my own neighborhood where the fireworks view was severely obstructed (ehh). this year it was a BBQ with D and J and then we drove over. rain and clouds, some of the usual crowd but many new faces as well. it didn’t feel like the 4th though. maybe because it was a wednesday, maybe it was because it was raining and cloudy. it just didn’t have that tingly feeling of celebrating the same thing with so many people across the country. that kinda cheesy, but kinda reassuring patriotism i guess it is. it just felt kinda.. umm.. obligatory.
so yes, i am starting to be excited about leaving.
like my friend N says, there’s nothing like living in another country to turn you into a real American. Amen.
New Angeles Monthly, June 2008
Weekend America, March 30, 2008
Los Angeles Times, March 13, 2008
Los Angeles Times, March 6, 2008
Nil by Mouth is written by Neille Ilel. Neille is a writer, reporter and user interface specialist in Los Angeles. If you think that's a lot, she's also got a host of meandering sidelines including improv comedy, tennis, cooking, drawing and thinking about learning to play the guitar.
Nil is her given name. It's a long story.
E-mail her here:
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