Losing steam

I have been a bad blogger, it's been a bit crazy around here with MD reviews and I got FB back for a few days on the DL but it gave my computer so much mal-ware it hardly ran. I don't know why it happens it here and doesn't at home (knock on wood), I had not up/down/all around/loaded anything! OH well.

I am going to post an article later on called "A boy named Hitler" so tune back in later today.

The passion of Wood

I am zoning out, things look contrasty & pixely when my eyes relax, in that way you are supposed to relax your vision so you can see the hidden pictures in those magic eye books, that drove me crazy, because as soon I relaxed enough to start seeing anything I became aware of my soft focus and in trying to consciously hold on to it, I would lose it. There is a metaphor about relationships in there.

I wanted to talk about my new found respect for Woodrow Wilson, about how I misjudged him, branded him a cold fish, how when I was hot in the summer time I would visualize Wilson to cool off. I thought him a a pious, self righteous, rigid, austere, phlegmatic, iceberg of a man. Boy was I wrong, sure that was his façade, but inside Wilson was a passionate man. Many people would be shocked to learn just how passionate he was about, women, god, the League of Nations. Just a month after his first wife died, he proposed to another woman because he was so damn passionate! She turned him down but that didn’t quench his concupiscent heart.

But that will have to wait for another day for I fear I couldn’t do him justice today. 2 and ½ hours just aint enough sleep, much to my chagrin.

Blahhhh

I feel like poop today. I hope I am not getting sick.
Still no facebook here at work, and I am losing hope faster than a cow at a slaughter house, that it will ever return. Today is one those days where I could really use its no attention span pretty pictures approach to life. But alas…they took it from me.
Shit I am supposed to pics out 10 photos for my show by tomorrow, I better email Alison. I am going to be in a group show in January, btw.

Tree-rific

The champagne in the champagne punch was about $85 a bottle but we spared no expense for our annual tree trimming party. Fun was had by all, esp. the two little Jew girls (myself and Merryl) who, deprived of decorating pine trees as children, really enjoyed the hell out of doing it now.

With BFF's like Tom...

Tom Cruise is to merge his family with Victoria and David Beckham’s in a special ceremony.
Cruise proposed to the Beckham’s that they make their BFF-ness official – to show the world how much they mean to him,Cruise asked that the Beckham’s have a commitment ceremony, during which the families vow to be brothers and sisters and exchange heartfelt speeches - at his wife Katie Holmes’ New York town house.

The gesture serves as a Thanksgiving present from Tom - who has gotten creepier and creepier through the years.

A mole close to both families slipped us a copy of Tom’s first draft of the vow he will recite at the ceremony.

‘I Tom Cruises, take Victoria and David Beckham to be my Thetan brother and sister in the name of L Ron Hubbard.
To travel with them in essence to our home planet and in our next lives
To fight against the evils of Xenu in their honor. Today and from this day forward.
Cruises and Beckhams BFF!’

X-mas is high tailing it this year..

I can't believe Thanksgiving is over already. It's now on to our annual tree trimming party and that's Saturday! The speed of time is progressing rapidly...time is such a crazy thing. We are or at least I am affected by everything that happens but at the same time isolated in the moment.

I start yoga Wednesday, I am a bit freaked out. Alison & I are doing this 30 day Bikram yoga challenge and I have never done Bikram before (it is 90 minutes in a room that is 110 degrees).

I hope i don't faint, if I can stick it out it is supposed to make you feel amazingly healthy and energized.

Yawning

Looking up why we yawn is like looking up the meaning of the. Vague at best. I get that it has something to do with oxygen, but what?

The theory is that yawning helps us bring more oxygen into the blood and move more carbon dioxide out of the blood. Sounds logical, but studies have shown that breathing more oxygen does not decrease yawning. Likewise, breathing more carbon dioxide does not increase yawning.

I yawn mostly when I am tired, sometimes I get uncontrollable yawn fits, they make my eyes run and drain my body of energy. Why? No one knows, for sure. What’s up with that shit? They can split an atom, clone a sheep, and invent a cell phone that hears a song and can take you to the i-store store, where for .99 it will play it for you! All this and still no one knows why we fucking yawn, how to cure the common cold, or why we need to sleep and how to create a machine that simulates 8 hours in 10 minutes?!?! Why? Because some rich philanthropist has a family member who has hydrocephalus, so they hire a B-list comedian to represent the cause and paints his mural on the side of a building in Sheepshead Bay!!! But I digress. I guess, much like the female orgasm, no one really cares that much about yawning, and so it remains one of life’s little mysteries.

On a side note about yawning, studies show contagious yawning appears to involve the very human trait of emotional empathy. Humans, uniquely, are able to imagine what someone else is thinking or feeling, therefore when they see someone yawn they yawn too. Consequently, people who do not contagiously yawn are usually autistic, schizophrenic, or psychotic.

Lacuna

Emma hadn’t thought about that night for a long time now, but then she caught sight of Rudy on the train. She hid herself behind some fellow passengers and remembered. Her boyfriend, Charles, was out late at some kind of meeting; so they hungrily agreed to meet at her apartment. Rudy had this conservative façade, but was really tormented by contradictions, he liked to piss people off, but at the same time, when he liked, you or wanted something from you, he was whatever you wanted him to be. Inwardly they were the same, but ostensibly she stood to the left.

Rudy and his wife had just moved to NYC when she met him. Charles and Rudy were close friends once and Rudy was eager to be close again. He hung around all the time to the point of annoyance. But eventually Emma and Charles grew used to him and began to enjoy his omnipresence. Emma was also flattered by Rudy’s growing infatuation with her. Especially since her relationship with Charles hadn’t weathered their recent tragedies well. Rudy’s puerile affections were a nice diversion, for both of them, from the unpleasant realties in their daily lives. Rudy told his wife that Charles and Emma were his ‘best friends’ and time passed.

Such as all imbalanced relationships go, such as everything in life goes really, things could not stay the same. So Rudy and Emma began to have an affair, it was all consuming and destructive, but so were they. It went undiscovered for three weeks. The night they were caught started off as usual for these sinful lovers. They were at her apartment downing alcohol and chain smoking; sex was not an act they committed sober. That night Emma only had a drink or two before she began to feel nauseas. Maybe she skipped lunch, whatever the case, she suddenly dismounted Rudy and ran, to the bathroom. Rudy followed her and started fucking her from behind, her head still over the toilet, her lips still connected to the water by strings of mucus like hot glue. This seemed somehow okay, life had ripped down all of Emma’s notions that compassion was really anyone’s motivation. In fact it was the perfect crescendo because …suddenly the door handle was shaking and they knew there was no way they could possibly escape. Rudy pulled out of her and cowered behind the door. Emma put her head between her legs and waited for all hell to break lose.

The weird part was Rudy wouldn’t leave, even though Charles asked him, even implored him to several times. Rudy stayed and answered all of Charles questions about the affair. Rudy even told Charles things he didn’t ask about, details that were unnecessary and cruel.

Emma wondered for a long time after why Rudy had betrayed her, and purposely taunted his so called best friend. She hurt her boyfriend as he hurt her, but neither had wronged him. Rudy couldn't even say why, when she asked him about it later.

That morning he slunk back home into the warm open arms of his safe wife, she got him hot chocolate, and held him tight. Soon he thought he was a big man, he got away with it, and because he did it actually made him more self righteous about the affair. That provincial, constipated, coward, dipped his toes into the ocean and now thought he could control the sea. Often Emma wanted tell his wife, just to knock him down a few pegs.

The three of them tried to be big about the situation and remain friends, it was futile. Years later on the train, hiding behind the commuters, Emma realized how little it mattered to her now. That horrible day she thought would linger forever, had evaporated so slowly she didn't even notice it had gone.

In Lieu of FB...

Still no facebook! My hope that it will return is fading as fast as the likely hood of a kidnapped child returning after 72 hours. I am trying to keep my mind off of it; I just finished our annual tree trimming Christmas party invite and now I am searching for things I want to for Christmas so as to compile a list for Josh to shop from. It was his idea, but it's too hard. I don’t know what I want. I am torn between sweaters, camera accessories, and saving up to go on a European vacation, aka instant gratification vs. bigger picture.

I am meeting up with Micky for lunch soon, but first I have to train the temp who is filling in for Ursula this week. Training temp flashbacks are evoking uneasiness, but if nothing else it will remind me how good I have it with Ursula, as annoying, loud, and anal as she can be, she is still my little German workhorse.

I am looking forward to being off Thursday and Friday.

Rob & Jackie took us all out to dinner on Saturday at this really good restaurant in the West Village called Jane. It was really scrumptious. On Saturday morning Josh & I took them to brunch at Pete’s Tavern (it reminded them of an English pub). I actually miss them. They were the most considerate house and enjoyable house guests. Plus there were unstoppable, on the go all day and night soaking in as much as they could. They invited us to visit them in London. Since they are both retired principals they explained how their schedules were wide open, so if we find cheap tickets we are so there. Funny how things turn out sometimes. They left before we woke up on Sunday, leaving behind a lovely note of thanks, a bottle of red wine, and a box of fancy chocolates.

Yesterday my step brother Jason brought his new girlfriend by. They make a lovely couple. They stayed for quite a long time too.

He and his girlfriend were late arriving to our place because they were having a leisurely lunch at the Olive Garden. About an hour into our deeply enriching visit Micky and said we were off to sushi when Jason brazenly invited himself along.

Didn’t you just eat!?!?, I nervously inquired.

Yes, but he just want to hang out some more. As lovely as that sounded we were meeting friends who had made reservations at the busiest sushi place in all of Manhattan.

Josh and Suzie luckily got the pleasure of Peter and Jason’s vaudevillian type antics and was able to tell me all about it when I got home.

Now I shall get back to editing my story.

I keep rereading my story and there is something not right about its flow. It’s a good concept but I just…don’t know…perhaps I shouldn’t be reading Portnoy’s Complaint while trying to write this, I think over lunch I will read a few Bukowski shorts.

Of course Jackie and Robert (no longer strangers) are wonderful. They just adore Josh (he is quite charming) we all talked for hours and they took us out to eat. I feel bad about not wanting them to stay, but I must be true to that law I declared,

“Zelda's Law: “As soon as you stop worrying about something it usually happens, chances of it occurring triple if you say it out loud.”

Example: Jenny auditioned for Cats, she thinks to herself 'I did really well'. She most likely will not get the part.

BTW: Still no Facebook!

If she tells her friend Mary "I rocked the audition, I think I am going to play Tabby the trash cat." Her chances of getting the part decrease by 3 times the original amount she had against her just by thinking it.” (ZB-June 4, 2008)

Uneasy

Not only is facebook not working, possibly blocked forever, but we are having house guests tonight. They are friend's of my brother's wife's father, don't ask how they came to be staying at my place, for those of you who know me know. They are in from England for a few months and decided to cap off their American adventure by coming to NYC. The most unsettling part is that I have no idea what they expect. Do they have plans or are they gonna be parked in my couch for 4 days? They're 60 and it's fucking cold outside. This just sucks and to top it off as they leave my brother arrives. It would be better if we had another room to hang out in, but the living room is really it. 11 days of visitors....

Well, instead of rereading my FF I worked on photos. I will get on that now.

NOOOOOOOOOOO

Facebook is being blocked at my office. Some dumb asses downloaded an application that was really a virus so we all have to suffer! They just had to have the super duper, extra special, ultra hug application!

Since I have no inspiration, for a new comic right now and what is the point of working on pictures in subpar Gimp if I can’t upload them here anyway!? I wrote a flash fiction story. I am not sure how I feel about it, it’s been a while since I have written anything, and the topic is bit heavy. Josh said I should reread it after lunch and decide whether or not to post it. So I will. Until then here are pics I can’t post on Facebook.

The Hippos Were Boiled in Their Tanks

refers to a circus fire and is the title of- until now- an unpublished work co-authored by Jack Kerouac and William S Burroughs, based on actual events involving the murder of David Kammerer by one of their own, Lucien Carr.

Click here to read an article about the book and actual events.

I can't wait to read it. New York in the 1940's/50's sounds so fucking cool. I had such a crush on Kerouac when I was in college, I read most of his books back to back. Soon I found it hard to distinguish his world from mine.

Anyhow I gotta run, but Carr is really interesting character too. You should read the article.

Rain Rant # 10,669

It rained most of the week, trying to be positive, I thought with all this weekday precipitation surly it will be sunny by Saturday, but here it is Saturday and it's still raining. It's supposed to rain tomorrow too. I am ready for it to end. It's depressing already. It just reminds that moving to Portland is just a pipe dream. The rain & I enjoy each other, but only in small doses.

This isn't really a rant now that I think about it. Okay, here I go, since I don't feel like renaming this entry here my rant; fuck this i hate the rain it always ruins everything. Why hasn't anyone invented a machine that can control the rain! I know we need it but not this much of it. With said rain control machine (RCM) the rain would fall only were is it is needed and only until whatever needed it was sated.

C'mon people I am giving you gold here!!!!

Sleep Rant #4,855

I feel so spacey I guess I am just tired and in denial about it! Fuck I hate sleeping, I don’t hate the act itself, I just wish it was optional or that we needed less. 8 hours a night is a huge chunk of your life. I know I have bitched about this before, but since the last time I complained there have been no new advances in artificial sleep technology (AST). You’d think other people would be on this, richer people, smarter people, more motivated people; the kind who get shit done. Even 7, even 6 hours of sleep per night… just too much!!!! Then on top of that, get this, you have to go to sleep the same time every night to reap total benefits from sleep. WTF? So it’s like you can’t even stay up till 4 on Friday and Saturday because you will pay for it all week. AND you can't make up sleep, so if you only get 4 hours of sleep a night for 3 nights, then you sleep 20 hours the next day to make up for it, you feel even worse! I just would think humans would be on it by now. It seems like it would be a profitable idea, if people were up more they would spend more money and so on. Plus think of how wealthy the company that manufactured this product would be????

Just under the wire- My Ode to Sarah Palin

Click on any image to see a larger version.

Some images need to be seen large to experience all the nuances

Park Pics-Madison Park

Flash Fiction Monster Story by Lisa Kramer & Josh Koehn

Marty tossed the bag of charred fingertips he fished out the dumpster over his shoulder. They weren’t worth dealing with the cops over. There was no reward for fingertips and with his luck he’s somehow get accused of snipping them off or worse. Marty suddenly heard a scuffle from the very bottom of the dumpster, he was used to dealing with rats but the fingers had put him on edge. He pushed further in, slowly, to find something not quite animal but not quite human. It was Tom Cruise, or at least it looked exactly like, him only he had circuits and wires poking out of his chest. Marty didn’t stick around to figure things out, he ran as fast as he could down the alley never even seeing the garbage truck turning the corner, he was struck from the front, feeling no pain.

He awoke in a dark room, as his eyes adjusted he saw the Tom Cruise machine lying next to him.

“You are finally awake,” he heard someone say in a deep gravely voice.

“I thought you’d never wake up.”

Marty tried to speak but he couldn’t. He felt like he was in some horrible dream, the kind where you scream but nothing comes out. He began to panic. He thrashed about only then realizing he was tied down. A bony set of hands went to work on his right arm pushing a needle into it. He began to feel his conscience sway and soon passed out.

When Marty opened his eyes next he was back in the alley where this crazy day all began. His head hurt and his eyes were having a hard time staying focused. Was it all just a dream or some bad dumpster meat? Marty worried he would soon wake up still strapped to that table. Then he felt a sharp pain shoot through his left arm. He pulled up his shirt sleeve and saw that he was more machine then man! He found he could easily bend an iron pipe, or crush anything in his path!

He was beginning to piece it all together, Tom Cruise’s fame, Scientology’s power, and how Sarah Jessica Parker became a sex symbol.

‘What do they want with me?’ he wondered, but wonder quickly gave way to panic. Why didn’t they just kill him when he discovered their dirty secret?

Marty hightailed it out of the dank alley and slipped into the nearest coffee shop. Once inside he fumbled through his pants pockets and to his surprise Marty managed to fish out $3.62 in various coins, enough to get a black coffee and oatmeal raisin cookie.

After he sated is newly chiseled stomach, Marty realized it didn’t matter why or when, they were going to come for him. He couldn’t bear the thought of playing the sitting duck; he had too much time on his mechanical hands. The paranoia would set in and he’d go mad. Marty had no choice; he had to run and hide, like a stalked hare in a hungry, cold, gluttonous, village, one that couldn’t afford beef or wool and liked to hunt.

Guess who sent me this?

So I sent this one back

Omni bathroom self love