smart way to jog

someone's always watching

dancing

GW

limbo: when the aliens descend

there is a state between awakefulness and dreaming. it is unrecognizable when you are in it- the state of full cognition flows right into this limbo without marker. but it seems to me that this limbo might as well be a whole 'nother person taking over my body. invading my skin as my conscious slips from control. maybe it's an alien having fun with a corporal human. or maybe it is a me from an alternate world.

i have often wondered if our dreams are reality some where -- after all, if the multi universe theory is correct , everything that can be is somewhere. why not then our dreams?     if in a dream we can see into another version of ourselves, maybe this limbo is a different kind of blurring between our realities. this would explain why i still feel like me even if i can only vaguely remember what has happened, what i have said and done.

could this also be what happens when we drink? maybe not when we just drink to a state of drunkeness, but when someone's conscious blacks out, when we are still acting and speaking and doing, but not recording any of it. maybe we aren't recording it because a different version of ourselves is recording it.

have you ever stayed up all night? had a sleep over? as a four year old or fourteen or forty four? have you had those late night conversations where you know you are making complete sense and then you wake and your friend or partner or sister laughs and says "you were saying the funniest shit last night!" and you don't remember.

i have long loved to document those moments. well, i love to capture those moments for myself. but if they involve other people they can sometimes be embarrassing or too revealing just as often as they can be good fun.

but alone they are like tapping into some secret. the bulk of my really bad poems in highschool came from mining limbo. i wouldn't be able to sleep, would sit up under my skylight with my journal de jour and scribble away my thoughts. in the morning i would look over what i had written. the last few pages often enough were illegible - even my other selves have atrocious hand writing. but before it trailed off into chicken scratch, there was pure adolescent angst gold.

i don't do this anymore. i don't have the luxury, my days packed going from one thing to the other in my desperate attempt to realize a career of a working artist in nyc. it seems my nights are a delicate balance between struggling to sleep and dropping like a rock. if i tried to write as i sleep, i'd probably keep my mind spinning on endless tracks till dawn breaks.

however, i do take a very long subway to my pinnacle of manhattan. at least late at night i do. and i am becoming adept at thumb typing. which means my itouch is filled with "notes" thumbed out as i force my eyelids open to stave off opportunistic thieves, rapists, and hoboes.   sadly the touch screen keyboard isn't quite as forgiving as my  young penmanship. and the apple provided automatic word correction doesn't always help.

but flipping through those late night subway ramblings, i again wonder- just whose thoughts have been pouring out?  i'd like to meet her.    


ps. if you haven't seen the joe iconis rock and roll jamboree yet, what is wrong with you? don't you get how awesome it is? my sister, katrina rose dideriksen, is a superstar and joe iconis somehow taps my brain. not to mention the awesome stylin' of the rest of the iconis family. seriously. get on the train.

upon waiting for the 1 train.

there's a cool breeze teasing the edge of my miniskirt as i wait on the above-ground train platform- a treasured rarity in the depths of summer in the city.
i can see across the harlem river from here.
there is a small peak of rolling green hills amid the high rises which, seduced by the momentary fresh air, reminds me of italy.
which reminds me that my passport has just expired. damn.

but, i can't bear to sink below that film of disappointment. so i brush it aside, closing my eyes and turning my face into the beating sun.

here and now i will relish living in a destination city, even if the language is my own and the gleam has long faded and my dreams sit dusty in plastic storage crates under my one-side mussed bed.

the sky is bright blue. the color richer through my fancy sunglasses, a deeply perfect robin's egg.
it is surprisingly quiet for a 9am work day. the truck grumblings muffled somehow. a siren does a quick crescendo, but just as quick fade out, leaving only the light chatter that beats below the city, a heartbeat that never stutters.

there is no train in sight. unsurprisingly. i'm going to be late. the mismanagement of public transit is just another truth to be swallowed down on a pretty day.
but it does mean the tracks extend unblemished into the distance, curving enticingly away.

how many pictures of roads from all over the world are scattered in my life?

each curving forward. a promise, as all roads are, of paths ahead and paths behind.

Acid Trip: NYC in Stop Motion Animation

i'm a suburban girl livin in the bright light city. and yes, i miss the moon and the stars. 

but new york is a freakin crazy place. 

it feeds into your highs and lows.

magic and madness and cheap thrills.

cockroaches and concrete and mindless crowds.

halloween: wild and bloody

i was a bit reluctant to revel it up this halloween. through the years i have had just some unbeatable costumes, so i'm loathe to do something under par. however, i was determined to go to the joe iconis halloween bash at the beecham. the show lived up to all expectations. i'm pleased to have created new iconis converts, not to mention new katrina rose dideriksen converts.

everyone who thought they had better things to do-- well it's just too bad. cause it was awesomeness and you missed out. phhhbbbt :p

my bathroom is still sadly marked with the spatters of blood. i swear i have tried to clean up, but there was just too much blood and it's going to have to be a step at a time. why is that? well, i slaughtered a metaphorical pig and drenched myself in it's blood for a quick, yet balls-to-the-wall Carrie costume.

i can now officially claim to have participated in full fledged new york halloween craziness.

let me tell you, riding the subway looking as ridiculous as all that is not the easiest thing to do. interestingly, i seemed to actually scare people in my neighborhood. having a blood-drenched white girl appear behind you is not something people want to see that far uptown.  funnily enough, once i hit about 110th- i guess around Columbia territory- i got more laughs, "rights ons," and Carrie quotes tossed my way.

hats off to the always ferocious katrina, whose Max costume was the best one i saw.  she tried to get me to dress as a wild thing, and i wanted to badly. but again, you gotta go big or go home. and with only a couple days and full time work, there was no way i could created the pimped out wild thing i wanted.

i have seen some amazing wild things online.  it seems a lot of people went all out for the premiere of the movie in full wildness.  i found some great homemade instructions for creating a wild thing head-really any giant puppet head.  next time i may have to take that route.

and, after the show we gallivanted around the city in our regalia.  i managed to drag reneta along and hopefully she enjoyed being with a bunch of crazy people.
and i even got some joe lovin.

there were some really great costumes out in the annual halloween parade in the village, of course.

i especially like these.

my other sister, michelle, also took the cake with her awesome outfits created for her family.  maybe not quite as gruesome as the city costumes, but still fab.

when did everyone else suddenly become an adult?

a couple weekends ago my besties was quasi surprised by her beau proposing. quasi because she has badgered him about it for months. so much so, in fact that when he actually did propose, she thought he was playing a joke.


it was actually a very sweet, spur of the moment change. too many friends were risking giving away the whole surprise, so he just called me- said come take the camera and hide, i'm doin' it now. and really it was the best. maria is a fabulous mix of fancy hotness, hiding in a pair of holey sweatpants and donald duck tee. so proposing in the middle of the farmer's market in union square was the best thing.


though i was hiding behind a statue and couldn't hear, my favorite moment was when he got down on one knee and she's like, "what are you doing? get up!" even when he showed her the ring, she was still busy shaking her head and gesturing around her, looking for the gag. it was incredibly sweet.


i unfortunately had to run to rehearsal, but before i did we celebrated with some champagne and oysters. my rehearsal was - ehem- well lubricated. ;)

the weekend was also a good excuse to see some people i haven't seen in a very long time, despite living at various times on the same island as them.

the only problem now, is i'm pretty sure maria is now an adult. boo.

does this mean she's now going to creep over to that third of my facebook friends who all have babies and pta and all sorts of other things i can hardly even imagine??? i'm not too addicted to facebook, but each time i'm on, i stumble across something from at least one person i last remember sauntering down the halls of high school, complaining about a crush or gossiping about an outfit or hanging "being cool," and now they are building houses and running carpools! this is meant in no offense to any of these people. you guys are still awesome. it just... your adults!

i may work a million part time jobs to cover my acting habit, my own apartment, a bottle of tequila in the freezer, and yes, i do have a spoiled cat, but somewhere along the way i missed the adult train. i'm still kissing on cute boys, wear way too many hippy clothes, and like my pigtails.

hmmm. i do live in new york. i guess none of those things really mean much one way or another.

can i buy my ticket to Where the Wild Things Are yet?

they only come out at night

i admit to be a little exhausted right now. i'm relatively good at fighting the exhaustion caused by running between part time jobs and rehearsals and auditions and attempting to have a teeny bit of social life. however, i feel slightly justified as for the last week and a half my apartment has been a total disaster zone. living in a disaster zone is not conducive to restful happiness.

then again, it is really just your typical manhattan story. a few weeks back i get a call from the super announcing "they have the right" to break into my apartment. which they will be doing. through my window. this doesn't leave me feeling particularly secure in my little inwood abode. i mean who's cousin has been hired to so easily walk through my window into my apartment?? as fierce a hunter of large creepy, crawly, and flying invaders as Chui is, the only human she seems intent on taking down is me. my calves are particularly attractive targets when she is hungry.

though she has been known to leap onto my back when trying to make a point, she clearly put no such fight up to the invading hordes, who proceeded to demolish the wall of my bathroom. when the leak they claimed to be fixing could not be found, they haphazardly covered said wall in what appears to be black trash bags.

one does not want to be able to see inside the wall of one's new york apartment. one does not want the creatures that live in one's walls to be able to gallivant about ones bathtub as if on holiday. even when one has hungry feline friend.

the unknown plumbing bandits are still parading through my apartment while i toil at my "survivor" jobs, leaving bits of crumbling cement and tile strewn about.

little do they know, i've lived in africa. i have plenty of experience finding alternative means of brushing my teeth.

manhattan fable-icious

here's the poster for my upcoming show

it's a very short preview run, with potential to move to a larger house


i'd love to see some friendly faces!

toxic rain

obviously this is not my picture as i am not this awesome--but we had another crazy storm here in the city. yet again i got caught in the rain, but thankfully it was only for a moment after grabbing drinks with a friend and not while running. a man died in NJ after he and 3 of his friends were struck by lightening and a cricket player in brooklyn was seriously injured. A witness in brooklyn said: "His pants were burned. His tongue was out of his mouth and his eyes were rolled back in his head."ew. sucks.

the rain only slightly delayed the new york triathlon. i saw the swimming end as i ran home on friday. i think the idea of a triathlon is great and maybe would be fun. except... i thought we weren't supposed to swim in this water? you're certainly not supposed to eat the fish all those people are always catching because they are too toxic. then there are the children who jump in the water's edge and send adults yelping in all directions.

so to swim a triathlon through the hudson...?

the city hawks

running home yesterday, i was rocking out to my music, thinking about the weekend when i noticed something in one of the kid parks...


they are little blurry from my phone's camera, hard to focus-- but still pretty cool.
just sittin' there. chillin.

today's pushcart war

to pay the acting habit, i work part time for a real estate (and other things) mogul. i run a fancy website practically single handedly -- blackswanblog.com -- who'd have thunk my rudimentary html would take up most of my paycheck?

this has all left me knowing much more about specialty real estate than i would ever want to know.

which leaves me wondering about the fascinating number of fancy food mobiles around ny.

if you aren't located here, it is hard to appreciate the depth of this market. on the one hand are the multitude of good old ice cream trucks, with their incessant jingling songs. the "traditional" ice cream trucks mostly mark their territory above harlem--swarming thickly throughout inwood and up into the bronx, with another hive in queens. the roving monsters sing at all hours, prompting insanity and war throughout the neighborhoods. and its not just trucks vs. people, but vendor vs. vendor too, with Mister Softee battling Good Humor over routes.


while this is rather extreme, the real story of the truck vendor that fascinates me are the slightly more "high class" specialty trucks that tend throughout the rest of the city.

there's Big Gay Ice Cream Truck , run by a bassoonist from the brooklyn symphony who had to find more work when the season was canceled, that serves fancy ice cream with toppings like ginger cookies, wasabi pea dust, pumpkin butter, curried coconut, cocoa nibs, and cayenne. on his Twitter the recent debate has been over adding pickle toppings. ew.

but if that's not classy enough for you there is always Van Leeuwen Artisan ice cream which focuses on simple elegant flavors.

then there is CupcakeStop Truck run by a NYU law school grad, which always seems to be waiting for me just as i step off the subway to go to work in the morning, though i've never tried it. they have all kinds of fancy cupcakes, red velvet and key lime and you name it.


one the trendiest of the mobile vendors isWafels & Dinges
this fancy truck sells brussels waffles with crazy toppings. it has been lauded in practically every publication. i see this one throughout the upper west side-fancy land. there's even an "impostor" waffle truck with owners from new jersey, that hunts midtown occasionally. it is run by a former employee of wafels & dinges and uses similar style and logos but is not the real thing! so people tell me. :)

it goes on and on. the dessert truck has all your gourmet dessert needs and the Treats Truck focuses on special cookies and brownies--though their tag line is "Not too fancy, always delicious!" they still look super fancy to me.


and it's not just sweet things. their are multiple pizza trucks and burger trucks outfitted with ovens in the trucks! and we're not even talking about the little carts that litter the city with hotdogs and pretzels.


today walking to union square there were several people waiting in front of a truck stamped with "brooklyn pizza"and it made me wonder how much money these things save/make rolling around the city, twittering and facebooking their latest location, vs having an actual restaurant somewhere. though i haven't indulged in any of them myself, i know that there is quite a cult following over the fancy ones. people blog sitings back and forth, texting to find out the latest location. though who can possible eat that many cupcakes?

the nytimes had quite a story [Turf War at the Hot Dog Cart] a few weeks ago over the turf wars between fancy trucks and their vendor cousins--bringing immigrant and class war to a whole new level. speaking about one of the new Sweet trucks:

In four weeks of business, the couple has been threatened at the depot where they park the truck; cursed by a gyro vendor who said that he would set their truck on fire; told to stay off every corner in Midtown by ice cream truck drivers; and approached by countless others with advice — both friendly and menacing — on how to get along on the streets.

...The new truckers, knowingly or innocently, often roll right over unwritten rules about which corner belongs to whom, and when. The city, other than blocking certain streets entirely and enforcing parking regulations, does not dictate locations for food carts. But spots are virtually owned by vendors who have worked them for decades; they are handed down within families and even sold on the black market.


who knew?

Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world

so the city of new york supposedly has a population over 19 million people. you'd think then it would be relatively easy not to ever bump into people you intentionally avoid. alright maybe not intentionally avoid-- but really its like somebody enjoys laughing at the little idiosyncrasies of my life.

completely randomly, i bumped into someone i used to date tonight as i left the the theatre. now really this isn't such a big deal. but i haven't moved in the same circles as this person and seeing him as actually existing apart from me is like a bizarre wrench into my reality. yes, the world revolves around me. (and your world revolves around you, so no big whoop.)

it's just hard to contemplate. is this because i'm not a grownup yet? i guess so.

i often think about the paths of life. of the moments i could go one way and go another. in fact i have a fully rationalized theory of the whole thing. basically it has to do with the physics theory of multi-universes. (which i love) in a nut shell, in this explanation of physical reality, every thing that could happen, has happened-- in one universe or another. everything you can imagine actually is a choice in the infinite possibilities of existence.

so here's my little thought on the matter-- there are definitely 2 moments in which we can sense the crossover of our self in our universe and the us in a different universe- 1) when you feel dejavu, it is because of some sort of residual "yes you've actually done this". and more to this post 2) when you can see laid out in front of you the path you took and the path you could have taken. i mean really see it, if only a few steps of it. those memories you hold on for years and can clearly say to your self, "what if i had done this? said this?" i think they stay locked in our minds, even the shortest or most inconsequential moments precisely because it is a moment where our universe has split. one of us took one path and one the other. and because we are the "original universe" we retain a strong connection to the moment of split.

ok, so i don't really under stand the physics, quantum physics? i don't even know what you call it. but i listen to a lot of lectures so there :p
and for those who often say i am full of shit check out this fascinating podcast explaining the multiuniverse theory: WNYC Radio Lab.

status: dirty

i like new york. i do. i like not needing to drive a car. i like having the theatre world at my fingertips, the culture, the clubs, yadda yadda yadda.

and yet at this moment i am incredibly nauseous. i was minding my own business, walking down the street when i had the pleasure of watching a young woman casually turn to a trash can and proceed to violently vomit. ew. i do not like vomit.

this isn't even the first time for this to happen to me. i have been subjected to full blown vomiting pedestrians on at least 4 occasions, none of which were bar-induced, late night, club scenes. no this is just your average, early morning or middle of the day vomit. ew.

and it is hard for me to tell which was worse- the midday pedestrian vomit, or the early morning homeless person pissing in the work-crowded subway car door. that just tainted my whole day.

perhaps i'm just being too delicate. admittedly, i still cringe when people spit onto the sidewalk or the subway platform. seeing that bubbly expectorate sitting on the concrete with no where to disappear to turns my belly. down south if one has to spit, one spits in the grass, cultured-like.

then again we've had yet another 7 swine flu deaths reported this weekend. and i have never in my life spent as many days sick as i have living in this city. colds, viruses, heck even food poisoning. you start to take it for granted-- oh so-and-so is sick? did they have the take-out or the cafe on the corner?

my sci fi geekness has a field day here on the island. it is just too easy to see how a michael criton or a stephen king virus could sneak in and take out half the city before anyone starts to really get nervous.

the other day on the subway, i had to fight every nerve in my body to keep from running from the car when the man behind me continued to hack, cough, and wheeze continuously for a good 25 minutes. i didn't want to offend the poor man, but i could practically feel the virus creeping all over me.

at least when the plague-- man made, alien, or natural-- descends, i'll be one of the first to go.

uptown girl

attending soirees hosted by my friend michael always makes me feel very high class. his tony party was no exception. he really outdid himself, and though i did not win the fabulous gift basket (for the winner of the most correct ballot) i still had a fabulous time.

there were no huge surprises, but in case you missed it-- Neil Patrick Harris kept his hosting lowkey, until the final moment in which he sang a mostly improvised version of "tonight, tonight"

wow. hard to imagine

 

cookie monster eats the world trade center back in 1976. how bizarre to look at this image today. here in the city anything that evokes the towers, whether benign or not, is taboo. there were the movies, of course, and they were advertised when they came out, but you just don't see visual references to the towers around here. it is too painful for - what, the mass consciousness?
we have a gaping hole in the city that is a festering wound of mismanagement, overwhelming debt, and construction.  there are dreams, too. dreams of rebuilding, of monuments, of healing.
but ny is millions of dollars in debt
and alternate pathways route you around so if you keep your head down and rush-something new yorkers never do- you never have to see the wound at all.

o o my

Standing in the subway station waiting for the notoriously late a train- the station is full of people trying to get back uptown from times square probably to Harlem and Inwood. A man calls out to me "Obama !" strangers are calling put to each other. New Yorkers are speaking to people they don't know, high-fiving and crying. Jews and African Americans, chubby white girls and skinny emo boys. I just watched an older woman beat on a stranger's thigh sitting across from her on the train.
They are dancing in the streets. Fire works shooting off.
People have screamed till their voices are gone. They are weeping. We are weeping. The train which is usually only full of drunk and sleeping people, tonight has people discussing "what happened" in that state what "prop " passed in this state. It is euphoria, elation, and, yes, hope- that things will change, that we have a future ahead of us, that we are not condemned to war and hatred. Yes, it may only be fancy words and smooth speech but we have a need, a yearning for something better. In our own group , the room got silent, intense as we waited for the "president elect Obama" to take the stage. In the anticipation someone would explode with a whoop of uncontained astonishment and the rest of us would sush them furiously, afraid to miss anything. When he took the stage -you could feel the sense of history happening, surreal and wobbly. I felt the pages of history being written, the burden of the past and the weight of the future. Generations to come will read this moment in bland acceptance not recognizing the event for what it is.
This woman across from me can't contain herself. She shakes and tosses her head, looking around for a Obama button. She calls out to the girl getting off" have a great 4 years"

run forest

run forest

i love my windows. they look eastward, over the city. below me are a handful of trees! i look over their golden leaves at the buildings in the distance. the sun rises behind an apartment building a bit a way. despite the "blackout" shades, the sun can light my whole room about 20 minutes after it rises. i love the sunrise, so why bother trying to hide it? i leave my shades pulled open all the time. unless it is a particularly cloudy morning, the sun pierces through my dreams, heating me awake.

the sky was crystal clear with the sunrise this morning. i am much too lazy to get up with the sun, but i do roll over and stare. it looked like a beautiful day for my long run. sadly, the clouds rolled in before i got my rear in motion. now the sky is painted over with clouds and the sun is hidden. i'll still pull myself together in a moment, it just won't be so warm.

it is hard to throw myself out of the apartment to run. i can find so many other things to do. but once i am out there, the river lifts my heart.

new york is a paved bubble of society, a little world in its snow globe, fitting for a philip k. dick story. you walk and live in it, separate from the rest of the world. you can go months without touching the earth.

running along the river, it's though i'm running along a tear in the bubble wall. the rip in the seam, where nature bubbles up, churns, seeps in from earth below.

i love this website: USATF, where you can chart your paths, see the mileage and the elevation. when i can put my clothes on, this is what i'll do today: today's run