Posts Tagged ‘random’

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Jews Love Money

February 16th, 2010 by Suzanne | 5 Comments | Filed in hilarity, Jewishness, nerds, random

If every stereotype emerges from the tiniest kernel of truth, Husband gives the anti-Semitic crazies a good basis for their rants. Before I left to visit my sister in Iowa for the weekend, he gleefully announced that he would spend the weekend counting money. It was a moment for which he’d waited about five years.

Husband hates carrying change. He’d empty out his pockets at the end of the day, save up the change, then count it out and take it to the bank. He counts it because the counting machines at the bank notoriously undercount. Plus, I think it allows him to slip some old coins replaced by Euros into the rolls, but that’s just my suspicion.

Anyway, I gave him a plastic parking meter bank for Hanukkah abut five years ago, and he’s been patiently feeding it change since then. I guess the manufacturers thought whatever kid would use it would be too impatient to fill it, as it collapsed from the weight of the coins about six months ago. Since then, it lay on the floor as Husband faithfully inserted his change.


All told, he said there were over 3,000 pennies alone. The total was slightly
more than $600. I can only imagine what would happen if someone broke into our apartment and tried to steal Husband’s bounty. It would be a loud and very slow get away.

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Monster Trucks!

February 11th, 2010 by Suzanne | 2 Comments | Filed in hilarity, random

>My sister’s 30th birthday is Monday. Back before I remembered how bad winter is in the midwest, I decided that I would visit her over the holiday weekend and join her celebration. Living in New York has spoiled me. Sure, it gets cold here and snows, but this is kid stuff compared to what I grew up with in the Chicago area. I have become soft.

I expressed my fears to Dana. She told me to wear layers. I laughed. “It’s 25 degrees here and I am already wearing a hat, scarf, down coat, lined mittens, tights, knee socks, leather boots up to my knees, jeans, a long sleeve shirt, and a sweater (and, of course, undies). I am still cold.” She laughed. “Damn, you’re a wuss.”

And speaking of wusses, when she told me a few days ago that she would like to celebrate her birthday at a monster truck rally, I hesitated. Part of me was really, really, really excited. The other part feared the Confederate flag waving, pick up truck riding majority of the audience. I assumed that I had enough sense of self-preservation not to get into a fight with anyone, but who knows? I challenged a fucked up Jamie Kennedy at his own documentary. (Not that he was a threat, but it shows that when I feel insulted, I don’t think before I open my mouth.)

However, excitement got the better of me, and I cannot wait! Not only does the show feature truck stars Killer Bee, Rislone Defender, Bar’s Leaks Eliminator, Storm Damage, “the ever so popular monster truck ‘The General,’” but – but! – if we arrive early enough, we can take a family ride on a monster truck known as Bone Crusher. Fuck, this will be amazing. Bring on the monster trucks!

Now, if only my flight gets there OK, given all the snow, and equally importantly, gets me back on Monday…

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Snowstorm, Revisited

February 10th, 2010 by Suzanne | 1 Comment | Filed in hilarity, I love New York, random

>I took this picture on March 2, 2009, but today is a similar day in terms of weather, and I love it so much that I can’t help but re-post.

Wherever you are, I hope your day is filled with lovable mini snowfolk.

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The Jamie Kennedy Experience

February 9th, 2010 by Suzanne | 1 Comment | Filed in Asshole idiots, hilarity, random

>This story was told to me by Husband and Brother-in-Law. Although I have never done illegal drugs, nor have I ever even been drunk, I do not remember this incident at all.

In 2007, Husband, Brother-in-Law, and I went to see a documentary at the Tribeca Film Festival about stand up comedy. The film was done by the comic and actor Jamie Kennedy, who wanted to know why people don’t find certain brands of humor funny. The first half of Heckler included many famous comedians talking about hecklers. The second part of the movie, however, focused on why critics hated Kennedy’s movie, Malibu’s Most Wanted. He hunted down critics and badgered them, insisting that they just didn’t get it. (Husband said it was the worst movie he’s ever seen at the Tribeca Film Festival, and I’m sure I hated it, but of course, I don’t remember.)

Usually screenings at the Festival are packed. This one had only about ten people. Still, Jamie Kennedy came out after the movie to talk about it. Once Husband mentioned this part to me, I did recall that Kennedy was wasted on something. He heckled the audience. At one point, he asked us a question about what we find funny and why, and I made the mistake of raising my hand to answer it.

He did not like my response, whatever it was, and yelled at me. I yelled back at him. Apparently, we argued loudly for some time. Husband and Brother-in-Law found this hilarious.

I wish I could remember when I got into a verbal slam down with Jamie Kennedy.

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If You Want to Look Good, Check This Out

January 28th, 2010 by Suzanne | 6 Comments | Filed in hilarity, random

>Although I cannot be bothered to wash my face on a daily basis,* I am excited to link to my friend’s blog, Ask An Esthetician. She is a licensed esthetician who is giving out excellent (free!) advice on beauty, particularly skin care. I know that most women are not slovenly shlubs like me who wander around with uncombed (albeit usually clean) hair, un-moisturized skin, and legs and armpits that make them look like Chewbacca’s midget sister, so I thought I’d do a public service promote her blog.

*Despite this gross habit, my skin is pretty clear. I am not sure why this is since in my pre-teens I was a horrid pizza face on the way to scars that would make Norriega look like a beauty queen. My mom insisted that I go to a dermatologist even though I protested, and the antibiotics he prescribed made a huge difference. (Thanks, Mom!)

After years of happy skin, I was covered with cyst-like zits in my early 20s. Another dermatologist gave me drugs, which did not work well, and he said I should consider Acutane as an option. No fucking way was I going on Acutane. In addition to requiring me to take birth control pills (which I was on anyway) and submit to regular pregnancy testing because it is so dangerous to fetal development, and cause hair and skin to fall out in chunks, it could cause people with depressive tendencies to commit suicide. I told him I’d rather be zitty than dead and fleshless.

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BOMB and Explosion

January 26th, 2010 by Suzanne | 6 Comments | Filed in Damn, hilarity, I love New York, random

>My friend Mark and I went to check out Brooklyn’s Other Museum of Brooklyn (BOMB) after work this evening. (If you visit the website, note that the BOMB we went to and the BOMB depicted are different buildings. BOMB moves with the real estate market.) It is open every Tuesday from 7 – 9 pm.

The new BOMB is in a building that is not heated or necessarily finished. As I went up the staircase, I was slightly fearful that I would plunge through the boards. It was sturdy, though. When we were upstairs, the curator, Scott, offered us beers. When I said I don’t drink, he sweetly said he also had cranberry juice and various flavored seltzers.

Basically, BOMB is a museum dedicated to promoting the historic preservation of Admiral’s Row, which is a set of buildings in the Brooklyn Navy Yard that the Mayor’s office wants to tear down, and a place for the curator to store things that he rescues from the trash. Here’s what Mark and I saw (apologies for the blurry pics – I used my BlackBerry phone):

If you squint really hard at the upper right, you can make out a canister used during Prohibition to make alcohol. The twisty spigot is wrapped around a gumball machine. Near the furnace to the right, sort of behind the fireplace, is a long black cylinder which is a rusted out sewage pipe. The window shade is pulled back by a paper mache puppet that looks out the window and admires the neighborhood.

The bathroom counter is covered with items that Scott, the curator of BOMB, found on the beach. This includes a femur, many pieces of broken china, coins, and rocks.

This portion of the wall was part of a church steeple in the 1800s. I love it. Yes, that is a cow skull hanging in the center of it. The Disgruntled Cow uses Scott to express her displeasure at how the Mayor milks the City dry. The object with wheels is a racing car from 1920 that reminds me of a go-kart.

This torpedo used to hang outside the museum. I sort of like it in the niche at the top of the staircase.

Mark and Scott are far more knowledgeable about Brooklyn than I can ever hope to be, so I mostly listened to them chat as my feet went numb from cold. Scott gave us all kinds of goodies to take home. Of course, I loved every second of my visit.

The explosion on the subway ride home, though, was terrifying. As we sped through the tunnel, a passenger with a wispy white goatee suddenly blew up at another rider. He jumped in the man’s face and bellowed, “Why are you staring at me? Get your eyes off me! Do you have a problem with me. I said stop looking at me. Are you sweet for me, huh? Are you a homo? DO you want me to shove something up your ass? Fuck you!”

A few months ago, someone was randomly stabbed on the subway under very similar circumstances, and even though I was at the other end of the car, my heart thundered away. The other passengers watched the scene unfold and looked nervous, but only I changed cars when the train stopped. The man who was harassed got off, whether it was his stop or not. I hadn’t been that nervous on the train since I was caught in the middle of a fight during rush hour and a guy broke a glass bottle and brandished it at someone.

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Time Vampire

January 25th, 2010 by Suzanne | No Comments | Filed in hilarity, random, writing

>Urban Dictionary’s Word of the Day is Time Vampire. This is something that sucks away your time like a vampire does blood. I love, love, love this concept.

My thesis is a time vampire. Or at least it will be once I start working on it for real. My goal is to write 3-4 pages a day for the next two months, not including weekends for the most part.

Probably it is bad that I describe the writing of what I hope will be my next book as a time vampire, huh?

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Go Figure

January 21st, 2010 by Suzanne | 1 Comment | Filed in Damn, random

>Yesterday my grandmother finally recovered enough from the sedatives given to her before her angiogram/angioplasty for my mom to tell her what happened. We expected Granny to be upset. My mom assured her that we would find her another doctor.

Upon hearing that her doctor forgot which stents he was supposed to use, my grandmother, apparently, shrugged. “Well, I like him. He doesn’t talk to me like I’m senile or a child.”

My mom was confused. “So do you not want a new doctor.”

“No,” Granny said. “I’m happy with this one.”

While I hope that he does not commit a much bigger fuck up in the future, I’m relieved that she is not upset about what happened. This doctor got lucky. That’s all I’ll say.*

*Except that if he does anything to hurt Granny in the future, I will come after that fucker with everything I’ve got.

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“I Am Not a Hero”

January 13th, 2010 by Suzanne | 3 Comments | Filed in random

>Miep Gies, one of five people who hid Anne Frank’s family and four other people, died on Monday night. She was 100 years old. I read parts of her memoir, “Anne Frank Remembered,” a few months ago when I went to research at the Holocaust museum in New York City.

“I am not a hero,” she wrote. “I stand at the end of the long, long line of good Dutch people who did what I did and more – much – more during those day and terrible times years ago, but always like yesterday in the heart of those of us who bear witness.”

If anyone can read those lines without crying, I don’t understand how.

Today the New York Times published a letter from someone praising Mrs. Gies and lamenting the lack of “empathy, courage, and selflessness” that exists in people today, noting that these “were once the kinds of behaviors we valued most in human beings.” This is a nice sentiment, but it is not true. It has never been true. If we really valued these behaviors, the Holocaust would not have happened. Years of institutionalized and individual racism would not exist because people would have stood up and said, “This is wrong,” no matter what the cost. People were as narcissistic and self-involved back then as they are today. That is what makes Miep Gies so special.

Mrs. Gies said that she was “only one” of many who acted so humanely and courageously, but that is another indication of her generous nature. Then and now, people pay enormous lip service to the “sanctity of life.” Most people will not risk their own lives to stand up for others. I think often about what I would do if I were in Mrs. Gies situation. I only hope that I would act as she did.

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Speaking of Fame…

January 12th, 2010 by Suzanne | 3 Comments | Filed in hilarity, random, What is wrong with people?

>
Obviously, this photo is of the crowd of shrieking 12 year old girls who lined West 75th Street on Friday night, the police cars that escorted a black SUV down the street to the stage entrance to the Beacon theater, and Nick Jonas getting out of the SUV.

I passed by the mob scene on my way home from work and thought it was hilarious enough to stand around in the cold for a few minutes and repeatedly mumble, “Oh. My. God. It’s the Jonas Brothers!” as other startled Upper West Siders made their ways home. The best part is that I didn’t know it was Jonas-related, but decided that it had to be, given the situation. (I guess it could have been for Taylor Swift, but then maybe boys would also be there.) I was only partly right – the show was Nick sans Brothers.

Once upon a time, in a land far away, I was a 12 year old girl. The New Kids on the Block were the hotties of the moment. The female tweens would line up on cold streets and shriek for their heartthrobs, but I didn’t really get it back then, and I still don’t today. This weekend, Dr. P and I discussed our wonderment at the crazed desire that girls threw toward Elvis. (We saw a clip of an Elvis flick on TV and she commented that he was sort of chubby, even before he was Fat Elvis.) Maybe if I was a youth when the Beatles first journeyed across the ocean would I feel compelled to participate in such behavior. I’m such a dork.

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