For the benefit of Yasmin...

... more cat pictures! Yaaaaaaaaay!






























...I took Catsby to the vet today. Apparently he's a she, which is to say the vet who originally examined her, didn't do a stellar job (though his respiratory problem seems to be gone). She may have ringworm though, which is bad because ringworm is contageous... on the bright side, that would explain why she's losing hair from her ears and tail. Also on the bright side, she tested negative for FIV and feline leukemia.... And! she's void of earmites! Hooray!

This is my life now.

Ricky Williams is Flipper.

RunningbackRicky Williams is returning to the Miami Dolphins. According to the Washington Post, he issued an apology to his teammates. What did they have to say in reply? Defensive tackle Larry Chester did what we all would do in that situation and compared himself to God: "He owed us an apology.... He did that. If God can forgive me every day for the things I've done and will possibly do, then how could I possibly hold a grudge or have any animosity toward him as far as his decisions?"

Larry's motto? "If God can do it, so can I."

"Gatsby turned out all right at the end..."

My cat's name is the Great Catsby.

More pictures of the cat... because I can.

I love him... whatever his name is...

Kitty on my foot and I want to touch it.

Today I got a kitten.


Timmy--Yasmin's friend's cousin (I think he's a cousin)--found three kittens crawling out of a shoebox on a neighbor's doorstep. This was one of them. He has a bit of a resperatory infection and an eye infection. He's only one month old and can pretty much fit in the palm of your hand.


So far the names I'm considering are Cation (a positively charged ion) and Cataracts. I'm looking pretty exclusively at names with "cat" in them, as I'm probably going to end up just calling him Cat anyway. Suggestions?

Irrational hatred of everything

Sometimes in the morning, I hate you. I also hate brushing my teeth; I hate figuring out what shirt to wear; I hate everything. However, what I hate most of all are the fucking commuters that ride the train with me. When I get to the train station, oftentimes the platform is virtually empty, with the exception of a handful of bleary eyed, quiet travelers staring into the void of the train tunnel. Then, as soon as we can see that red speck of light, that beacon of hope off in the distance that is the illuminated number on the front of a 4 or 5 train, the goddamn 2 train screeches to a halt on the other side of the platform, opens its doors, and floods the concrete dock with people transferring, pushing themselves to the edge of the platform in front of me just in time for them to claim a prime spot to enter the wooshing-open doors of my Manhattan-bound express. I am then forced to stand for the next half hour holding onto a pole that no doubt was most recently touched by the guy who doesn't wash his hands after taking his morning dump or the lady who compulsively rubs her conjunctivitis-infected eye.

Fucking assholes.

I hate you all. . . sometimes in the morning.

Di Fara Pizza, slower than a turtle

On Saturday I finally checked off the last of the famed New York pizzerias on my list. Pizza at Di Fara is hand crafted under the rule of Dominick DeMarco (or Dom as he's known by the regulars), who, himself, is an authentic slice of Italy. Watching him make pizza is a riveting, zen-like experience. Each pizza is painstakingly constructed solely by Dom (and has been for over 40 years), from the tossing of the dough, the swirling of the sauce, and the grating and spreading of three cheeses, to the final addition of olive oil and pepperoni (or whatever your topping of preference happens to be). He nicely rounds it all off by bare-handing the pizzas out of the oven. And he does all of this at the speed of a three-toed sloth. Waits up to two hours long are apparently not an unusual occurence.

Marty, Tera, Dave Hersch, and I split a half plain/half pepperoni pie. The pizza itself was quite good, though not the best I've had since my tour of New York pizzerias began. The pepperoni, though, may be the best I've ever had--sliced thick and with a mild kick to it. The pizza's faults were a too-heavy cheese-to-sauce ratio and an uneven crust. However, what it lacked in flavor (which I'd like to stress is not a lot) it made up for in its artful creation.

As a bonus they had bottles of IBC root beer stocked in the fridge.

Of all the famed pizzerias in the city only Patsy's on 118th and Di Fara sell individual slices. If I had to choose one place to go out of my way to get a slice (and believe me they are both well out of my way), it would be Di Fara, as you'll always get a fresh slice... because Dom makes 'em so slowly.

As for a whole fresh pie? It depends on the day. Totonno's is the most consistent pizza in the city. The crust is always perfectly baked and the sauce-to-cheese ratio that barely fluctuates. However it lacks the robustness of flavor that you'll find in a pizza from Patsy's or Grimaldi's. Meanwhile, Una Pizza Napoeltana is the place to go if you want authentic Neopolitan pizza, though Pepperoncino's and No. 28 are a very close second and third, respectively. Franny's is the only place worth visiting for organic pizza. And you can't beat the value of a pizza from La Villa (as long as you hold off on their D.O.C. pizza, with its imported ingredients and subsequent ballooned price), which also makes an incredible pie. Any given day, any one of these fine establishments could slice up the best pizza in the city. I just hope I'm there to eat some of it when it's served...

My visit to Di Fara by no means signals the end of my pizza outings or my posting pizza reviews on this blog. There will always be new pizzerias to visit and old ones to re-visit. If anyone's interested in dropping by the city for a pie, let me know. I'd be happy to join you.

Hot Dog! Pizza, Pizza.

I'm a little behind, but here's a weekend re-cap with a little commentary and history thrown in...

If indigestion and nausea are symptons of a good weekend, then I had a great time these last few days.

Friday, I finally got to hang out with Brendan for the first time in ages. We hit up a Venezuelan arepa place for dinner. Arepa's are kind of a hot pocket/pita thing made of cornmeal and then filled with, well, any number of delicious mixtures of meats and veggies. We then topped it off with a healthy dose of live music courtesy of Casey Holford and Chris Maher at the Sidewalk Cafe. Yasmin and her friend Abby were already there when we arrived, and Craig and Cecilia dropped by a little while later.

Chris Fuckin' Maher is a kid I went to college with. He's apparently well known in some circles for his involvement in the musical movement called anti-folk, which is kind of folk music with a punk bent. I'm a fan. It's kind of weird sharing music you know and like to your friends. I always find myself kind of nervous about it. I mean, what if they hate it? They are are judging you. Like recently, I made a mix cd for my cousin who runs a record company. Whenever we talk about music inevitably, at some point, Weezer gets mentioned. (For god's sake, how could I not?) My cousin, who I don't think has really paid much attention to pop music in the past 15 to 20 years has no idea who they are, nor does he know anything about hip-hop. His record company deals largely with jazz, classical, and world music, though he has signed some more mainstream stuff like Wilco and the Magnetic Fields. Needless to say, he's a smart guy who has strong opinions about nearly everything (he's quite fond of superlatives). So, I made him a little sampler of Weezer, hip-hop (Talib Kweli, Blackalicious, Madvillain, Kanye, and Che Fu) and (because he actually brought them up) Green Day. Hopefully he'll like at least some of it. If not, well, we'll probably talk about music a little less often.

... but I digress

Saturday Emiko arrived back from Vermont earlier than expected, which is to say she arrived home on Friday, shuffling around my plans somewhat. We ended up strolling across the Brooklyn Bridge with Liz, Kevin (Liz's fiance), and Foxy Berger and hitting up Grimaldi's for pizza. Patsy Grimaldi, the proprietor of said pizzeria, is a relative of the same Patsy of Patsy's Pizza fame (which itself was established in Harlem in the late '20s, I believe) and, according to the lovely placemats, from the age of 10 was working the tables and making the pizza there. At some point he established Grimaldi's, which has been vying for the title of best pizza in New York ever since. I've read some reviews that have called it the best. I've also read some that say while it's truly fantastic, they undercook the crust when it's crowded, which is often. The latter was the case in our visit. Despite the flaccid crust, the pizza was top quality--fresh cheese and sauce and some lovely pepperoni. Plus they serve root beer. Post pizza we headed over to Jacques Torres Chocolate Haven, which is just a couple of blocks away, for a hit of cocoa and caramel. For those more inclined for some relief from the heat, the Brooklyn Ice Cream Factory is just down the street from Grimaldi's.

Sunday brought more of the same, only different. Everyone minus Foxy headed down to Coney Island for more adventure with pizza. We patronized the original Totonno's pizza parlor, where we split a half plain, half garlic pizza. I keep forgetting that basil is an extra on their pizzas. Even sans the basil, though, Totonno's is still exceptional. Their crust is always perfectly crisp, their sauce tangy, and their mozzerella fresh. And they too serve root beer, which neither of the Totonno's in Manhattan does. Other highlights of the day (in reverse chronological order, just because...) included the most horrifying display of a wet t-shirted woman I've ever seen. As I said at the time, the nipples were the size of dinner plates--you could've eaten a sirloin off of them; eating hot dogs from the original Nathan's; riding the Coney Island's famous Cyclone rollercoaster; watching a freakshow; and visiting a museum that had a penny peepshow of an elephant being electrocuted. The last on that list is the winner of the "Most Disturbing Thing Seen at Coney Island on a Sunday in July" award, though the rollercoaster made me more nauseated.

And to bring us up to date, the New York Philharmonic played a free concert last night. I was there. Where were you?

CC: Celf-Conscious

Disclaimer: I started writing this blog before Ducore wrote his self-blog analysis. I realize the structure of this entry is pretty much the same as his. What can I say? I'm a hack.

So, I've been reading other people's blogs (the one's listed in the sidebar and some others) and I can't help but compare my own their's. I find that the most compelling of these blogs contain basically three things (a) interesting subjects (b) analysis of those interesting subjects (c) humor. Looking back on my own writing, I can see the a fairly large portion of it is just a recapping of events without much analysis of those events. I am a lazy blog writer. While this may be fine for those of you who are just interested in reading about my minor triumphs and failures, it irks me. I don't like to consider myself a passive thinker (which is a contradiction), but apparently I am, or at least appear to be most of the time. I think in general, I'm actually a reactionary thinker. My mind stays dormant until I've been posed a question or problem to solve. I don't normally come up with the questions myself.

Perhaps part of this problem I have with this blog is that I'm just trying to cram too many events into one entry and I'm not willing to spend enough time on each event individually in order to give them the amount of consideration it would take to make the event actually read as something interesting instead of just as a statement of fact. In the future, I'll try and stick to fewer topics and try and put a little more effort into making them more compelling reads.

On another subject, I'll be in Maryland from Sunday evening through Tuesday evening. That's a fact.

review

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime is a good book. It is the only book I've read since moving to New York that has made me miss my subway stop. The author starts a lot of sentences with "and," which elementary school teachers would have you believe is a bad thing, but apparently it makes for rather compelling reading. It's part murder mystery, part family drama, and part adventure. The fact that it's told from the perspective of an autistic kid only makes it more fascinating.

I'm also reading Ender's Shadow, which is a pretty good book. Though, it rehashes a little bit too much of Ender's Game, and is slightly less believable, which for a sci-fi book might normally be considered a good thing, but I'm talking about contextual verisimilitude here. Even within the construct of the narrative, it's hard to believe a 4- year-old has the capability to reason at the level that Bean, the main character, does. Of course, other characters in the story also have a hard time believing it. Whatever. It's still a fun read.

The 3rd thing I'm reading now is Flight, vol. 2 which is an anthology put out by Image Comics. It's the most impressive collection of short comics stories I've come across. There's no denying the quality is uneven--which will happen when you have 20-30 different creators working in one volume--but even the less impressive work is still pretty top notch alternative (by which I mean not superhero) comics. And it looks like it will be published regularly. So, bonus!

Last on my list of reviews is Batman Begins. I've seen it twice now and had some time to think on it. My initial reaction of it being just as good as the first Tim Burton Batman still stands. Christopher Nolan managed to hold the same dark tone as the Burton movies with none of the cartoonishness. I appreciate his respect for the original material as well. The cast put in solid performances all around (yes, even the much talked about and maligned Katie Holmes, who did about as much as I thought she could given her character).

I do have a number of bones to pick with the film though. The way that the fight scenes were filmed I felt was too confusing--the edits were too quick and the shots were too close up--which made it frustrating to watch, as it was difficult to follow the action. Bruce Wayne's dad was too perfect a person. He was depicted as having no flaws. He was a caring father, a loving husband, a doctor, who continued to work despite his billion dollar plus worth, and a philanthropist. And that's it. And he road the subway amongst the plebes with his family to the opera, despite his immense wealth. He had no vices. What a bastard. They also crammed in too many villains (though their connection was well orchestrated), and as a result wasted potentially good characters in Falcone, the mob boss, and in the Scarecrow who both ended up as just pawns.

Of course, the movie also had the coolest scene of all the Batman films, when Batman takes out a bunch of hired guns at the shipyards. It almost all happens off-camera and it is spectacular. I give it a B+... ***1/2... 8.5/10... yet, still, both thumbs up...

Job-y McJob Part II

Yesterday I was promoted. I'm an associate now. Hoo-ha! The job's basically the same, but my ancillary responsibilities will be a little different. Plus I get to boss around some invisible monkeys. They're doing all my typing from now on.

Job-y McJob: Part I

So, I was offerred a job at Random House in their children's books division. The job title was print production associate, which sounds a lot like the job I have now. After a second, awkward and generally unpleasant interview session I decided the job wasn't for me and they decided I wasn't right for the job. What did I learn from the experience? Well, jobs with the same title and description are not necessarily the same or even very similar; people and environment matter a lot; and money, no matter how much I don't want to matter, actually does. I'm sure there are other life lessons here, but frankly I'd rather not think about the whole thing any more.

In other news, I went to the Yankees game last night and watched Mike Mussina pitch a beautiful complete game and shutout from the Time-Warner suite (thanks to my cousins). I hate the Yankees, but I love Mussina. And it warmed my heart to hear the crowd yelling "Moose" at him.

I also got a sneak peak at the upcoming live Wilco album, which is really quite good. They rock a lot harder live--their energy is far more apparent than on their albums.

Shit meets Fan, Spoon-ing it up, and what it was made into...

Yes, things are coming to a head here. I can't really say anything specific yet, but come Monday, it seems, new information will come to light and there'll be some major decision-making to be had.

In other news, I've contracted the plague... and by plague, I mean a cold. Also, I saw Spoon play at Webster Hall. Spoon is good. The girl in front of us who could not contain her joy was probably more entertaining though. Her joy manifested itself in the form of convulsions of waddling, clapping, and lots of wrist movement. It was pretty spastic and clearly involuntary. Cheek does a good impression. For the billions of people on this planet who missed it, I pity you.

Also, Weezer's playing a show on Long Island in July. Tickets go on sale on 6/11. They're about $30 a pop. Their new album still is mostly a piece of shite, but I'm still going. I'm planning on buying a couple tickets, but can't afford a mass purchase at this point. It's an arena show, so tickets hopefully won't sell out as quickly as the Roseland shows. In my past experiences, their arena shows are their best.

Revenge of the Sith

Last night I attended the 7pm digital projection screening of Revenge of the Sith at the Ziegfeld Theatre in Midtown Manhattan. It's one of the few large and somewhat ornate movie houses left in the country. (Of course, it was knocked down and rebuilt in the 60's, so it's not the same as it was in its splendiferious original form, but it's got a very nice lobby and a very big screen.) If you haven't seen the movie and are planning to, you probably don't want to read the rest of this post.

As a summer blockbuster, the movie was alright. It has some sweet lightsaber duels, amazing special effects, and beautiful cinematography. As a Star Wars fan, though, it only left me angry. The script was atrocious. Lucas does not have a tin ear for dialogue. He is deaf. He couldn't possibly have any idea what his characters are saying. If he did, he would have demanded someone rewrite his screenplay. So the characters remained flat and the romance dialogue laughable. The editing was awkward at times too. Perhaps the worst offense was the contradictions inherent in Yoda's character, who we all remember from the first trilogy as being a zen master of sorts. He was the ultimate representation of mind over matter (as evidenced when he levitates the X-Wing in Empire). Now he's been reduced to a super-bouncey-ball with a 'tude. Vader is now Frankenstein's monster and 3PO and R2 are props. With the exception of Ian McDiarmid and Ewan McGregor, the acting in this movie is also pathetic. Padme might as well have been played by a piece of toast. It would have been just as believable a performance. Though, to her credit she was given the worst collection of lines I can recall hearing coming from a single character.

On the bright side, at least I understand why Anakin turned to the dark side. His motivation is almost believable, even if Christiensen's performance is not. The last exchange between him and Obi-wan was almost as stirring as Luke's and Vader's from Empire... until it was ruined with a the trite line, "Noooooooooo!" added to the script. As if we didn't know that Anakin/Vader was in anguish already.

Perhaps it was unrealistic to hope for a movie that redeemed the previous two pieces of schlock, but it didn't seem unfair.

The world seems intent on destroying my childhood and adolescence. First Weezer, and now George Lucas. Soon I'm sure I'll discover that pizza is actually a species of funghi that is now endangered due to my over-consumption of its deliciousness. I'll only have myself to blame for that one.

The Brunettes

This past weekend I went to two (!) concerts. Both of them featured the Brunettes prominently in the line-up, in that they were in the line-up. This is the band that opened up for the Shins a few weeks back. They're a boy-girl band from New Zealand with a glockenspiel, wind section, and castinets (there's also a slide guitar in there somewhere). I think they may be my new favorite band, though their recordings suffer from lo-fi production, which doesn't really compliment their complex instrumentation. Their live show however, is phenomenal. Not only do they play great music, but their constantly switching between instruments results in a pretty manic performance. At one point, the female vocalist was singing, playing the keyboards with her left hand and the glockenspiel with her right. How hot is that? I heart them. Sadly, though, they have returned to Auckland perhaps never to be seen on the east coast again. Hope is alive, however. Jenny Lewis of Rilo Kiley was at their fairwell show on Monday (they'd just finished a tour opening for Rilo Kiley), which means she is a fan and perhaps will ask them to be touring mates again. I'm keeping my fingers crossed...

A Public Nuisance

The way the weather's been all week, you'd think we were in Scotland or something. It's been in the low 50's and rainy. It's fucking May for Pete's sake. Where's the warm? As for the rain, all of you fuckers with umbrellas need to go buy raincoats. If I have to dodge out of the way of one more goddamn umbrella, I swear I'm going to flip my shit and kill all of you with the bluntest object I can find. In a crowded city, these contraptions with their pointy rods sticking out every which way, are about as safe as plutonium in the hands of a two-year-old. Granted, I'm one of the few lucky enough (that's sarcasm) to be eye-level with just about every umbrella held aloft in this city, and therefore one of the few consistently trying to avoid being maimed or blinded by them, but I still don't see why others can't show a little more courtesy. Especially given the fact that the skyscrapers create wind tunnels, destroying umbrellas left and right, you'd think that most people surely would tire of fighting with these things and just suck it up and buy a coat with a hood. But no--they insist on endangering the health of those of us who's heads peak in the five-foot-eleven to six-foot-three range.

You're all a bunch of bastards.

In other news, I had the best hot chocolate ever today. As I told Sheena, if God were a drink, he would be this one. At $4, it's still almost a bargain. Thank you City Bakery (18th St. between 5th and 6th).

my posts

So, I re-read my last post and, jesus!, is it awful. This summary of events business leads to a pile of trash in terms of writing. In the future I'll try focusing my efforts elsewhere, like calling my writing trash, pizza, and comic books. Speaking of which, I learned recently that Ziff-Davis, the well respected publisher of Computer Gaming World, PC Magazine, and our very own Sheena Mohan's CIO Insight, published G.I. Joe comics. For some examples go here, here, and here. Apparently soldiers in the 50's were happy-go-lucky guys with broad smiles and babies, who liked nothing better than to kick Koreans in the head.

I hate =w= fans and other statements

So last week brought both a new Weezer album and two Weezer concerts. The concerts were both totally rad. At the first one, Sarah, Corinne, and I worked our way up to about two or three people away from the front--only 15 feet away from both Rivers and Scott! There was a fair amount of shoving and squeezing, but it was so worth it. Even the jackass who kept leaning on my neck and resting his elbow on my head couldn't bring the evening down. The second evening was more relaxed. Smarmie, Marty, Tera, and I watched from about midway back (which at the Roseland is still pretty damn close). Rivers was more into it and their set was generally more lively. My Name is Jonas and the Good Life were the highlights of both evenings for me.

Weezer fans though, have taken a turn for the worse. While there were still some clearly, old school, bookish, nerdy types, there were a huge number of obnoxious frat-boys. These guys hurled obscenities at the opener, Ringside, who were really a pretty decent dance-rock outfit. They hardly deserved the You suck!'s and the Get the fuck off the stage!'s that they received. The guys standing next to us smoked a ton of pot smoking before the show--so much so that one of them passed out and had to be carried off. What the hell happened to the quirky, D&D playing, comic book reading, four-eyed kids? A polo shirt with a popped collar is not becoming of a Weezer fan and neither is passing out before a show due to too much pot.

The weekend brought my parents to town for my cousin's graduation. It was good to see my parents (if you're reading this, mom and dad, that's a true statement). We had milkshakes and talked about life in general (speaking of which, regarding my job, there may be news about it in early June... I have a meeting). Then in the evening there was a dinner celebration in honor of my cousin's graduation from business school. Most of the extended family was there. The food was solid. I ate the monkfish (the most disgusting sea creature ever).

Sunday brought more family time with a brunch at my other cousin's place. We discussed the Chinatown buses run by the chassids, Utah, and college. I then bought futbol socks. The afternoon was spent watching a Light at the Piazza, a show at the Lincoln Center. I recommend it to all of those who like musicals and those who love a great cohesive design. In the evening I met up with Liz, Foxy, and Claire for a Sushi dinner on the lower east side. Claire and I then headed down to Park Slope for a preview of her and Sheena's new apartment, which looks like will be a great place for them. There's an actual kitchen. I look forward to many a meal there.

Those living in New York and love their fish'n'chips should hit up the Chip Shop on 5th Ave and 6th St. They also serve the classic deep fried Mars bars (as well as slightly less traditional fried peanut butter cups and snickers bars) As a bonus it's just across the street from the Superhero Supply Store (the McSweeney's/826 NYC Brooklyn homebase). Props to Liz for suggesting meeting there.

There were a few hours of futbol on Saturday and Tuesday. I played mostly like an epileptic (sorry Sarah, it's the best description I could come up with).

Then today after work I went to a Palgrave happy hour where I, along with a select few other Palgravians, downed an Irish Car Bomb.

Also, Revenge of the Sith comes out tomorrow at midnight. Cursory reviews make it sound promising. I am cautiously optimistic. Brendan if you're reading this, you will have final say as to whether I will go and see it or not. If it gets your okay, I will go. Keep in mind, if you okay it and it sucks monkey balls, I will be very angry at you.

one more for old time's sake

Chris Ballew
Lead vocals and guitbass from the Presidents of the USA--his site has a wide variety of stuff from pop rock to very experimental.

The Elected
More stuff from bands with members including Daniel Brummel. This is more introspective, down-tempo, electro-folk type stuff. Kwality.

Chris Maher
A former schoolmate of mine and one of the founders of the anti-folk movement. Acoustic guitar goodness.

mixed nuts

the stypod
Stylus Magazine's free download page. Updated regularly generally with a theme. See the side bar of music blogs for a metric shit ton of music sites (lots of free downloads).

sixeyes
A blogger page. Posts "six-packs" of music. Linked from the stypod's list of music blogs.

Daniel Brummel
Down-tempo; piano; pub music. Former bassist in Ozma, current member of Yes Dear.

I heard Weezer's new album this morning. I'll give you a quick run down of my thoughts. It's a step up in songwriting and musicianship from Maladroit (which isn't saying much). It lacks the immediacy and energy of their first two albums. Some of the lyrics are pretty generic (specifically Beverly Hills, We are All on Drugs, My Best Friend, and well... most of the album). Rivers pretty much stays in the same vocal range as the Green album and Maladroit, and much of the album also is the same intesity, tempo, and volume. Almost all of the songs have the catchy melody and sing-a-long chorus that we've come to expect from them. Overall, I think it's a pretty decent pop album, but only a mediocre Weezer album. The highlights for me include Hold Me, Peace, and Perfect Situation. Look for it in stores on May 10th. They were streaming the whole album on their myspace site (which is how I listened to it), but last I checked that site was down.