Kenji Nakayama, a little beantown sorpressa

didnt know boston did street art like what i just saw on this guys page. i wish i could track down the work in person. but check out more on his flickr .
this is done with aerosol?

a line that really sums up my car ride home with my 55 yr old cousin once removed

"the night he told me he smoked pot, i knew i was going to sleep with him."

i gained a whole new appreciation for and understanding of my family this weekend.

finally. it looks right. done.

also check out that pandora widget to the right. i love it. pandora keeps me awake, alive and aware of my better half throughout my work day. and now you can actually see EXACTLY what im liking/listening to not to mention itll help me keep track of what i want to download when i get home.
operation google/gmail/googledocs/blogger as brains external hard drive continues

the opposite of throwing a pity party

"We can’t change the world except insofar as we change the way we look at the world — and, in fact, any one of us can make that change, in any direction, at any moment. The point of life, in the view of the Dalai Lama, is happiness, and that lies within our grasp, our untapped potential, with every breath."

From a lovely NYT article i just read on the Dalai Lama and his unexpected realism. Worth reading here.

Re-Post: "In Your Face: Big Pix, Few Pixels" on NPR.com

recently ive been taking some sweet pictures with 'effer' aka my blackberry.
I like to hate the device but having a camera that takes all of 3 seconds to ready and snap has proved to pay off and even though its like .02 pixels, its captured some pretty sweet moments.
like my friendly bordering on stalker duck at jamaica pond.
or my grandmother in an almost 100 year old apron shes been saving for me.
or the baby powder bottle with earphones taped onto its sides, left on my desk by my boss.
yeah.
so i was excited to read this article/see this slide show on NPR of Michale Daniels .3 megapixel portrait series...
"New iPhones have three. Most point-and-shoot digital cameras have about 10. The Canon 5D Mark II has a ridiculous 21.1. Megapixels, that is. So imagine what 0.3 megapixels look like. (Here's a hint: pretty terrible.) That's what inspired Michal Daniel to use a camera of that size. While everyone else was shopping around for the highest quality camera, he was hunting for the worst."
read the rest of it and see the super expressive shots here

"aw thanks!"

vanessa (4:56:24 PM): um just got an email from justin (her boyfriend)
daisy (4:56:29 PM): yeah?
vanessa (4:56:29 PM): guess the subject line
daisy (4:56:38 PM): what are you wearing?
vanessa (4:56:48 PM): haha no
vanessa(4:56:57 PM): cornier
daisy (4:56:57 PM): jesu do i have to keep guessing?
vanessa (4:57:07 PM): yes.
daisy (4:57:13 PM): sigh.
daisy (4:57:18 PM): is that a bruise on your face from falling out of heaven?
vanessa (4:57:25 PM): seriously? that your favorite line? hows that been working out for you?
daisy (4:57:30 PM): no thats YOUR corny BOYFRIENDS line! i'm offering gueses here! dont make this about me!
vanessa (4:57:33 PM): oh please. youre a total closet corndog.
daisy (4:57:35 PM): am NOT
vanessa (4:57:44 PM): I <3 u
daisy (4:57:51 PM): aw thanks
daisy (4:57:54 PM): well, what was it?
vanessa (4:57:58 PM): that was it
daisy (4:57:58 PM): oh. i thought you were... nevermind. *sob*
vanessa (4:57:59 PM): hahahahhahah....wow.
vanessa (4:58:02 PM): corn. dog. case. closed.

Just posted this on the NYT forum for remembering Frank McCourt:

Beyond the joy of encountering Mr. McCourt through his words, I was lucky enough to cross paths with him many other times and in many other contexts. Before he was published he taught my 6th grade class just outside NYC as a favor to his friend, my english teacher at the time. i recall falling instantly in love with him along with the rest of my class as he sat at our level telling stories and making us think we weren't "learning" a thing.
I read his books as they appeared with the kind of pride one would feel if a relative was published-i think that was part of his power, to make everyone feel that he had let them into his story.
I was blessed to have him as my highschool commencement speaker, perhaps the only redeeming part of an otherwise hellish day, it was pouring and cold, everyone was miserable, we sat in the rain, and he stepped up to the covered podium and said softly into the mic: 'welcome to ireland' and proceeded to tell more stories, dissapointing the intellectuals but thrilling and inspiring the students he was meant to be ushering into the world.
Later i attended writing workshops and readings he gave in my hometown of Southampton, NY and when i went on my first trip to ireland I unable to keep his voice from narrating the country as i experienced it. And then on our last evening in the country, i stepped into a tiny restaurant in the tiny town of adare, limerick and in a scene even a B-side summer movie couldnt pull off convincingly, there was Mr. McCourt, eating his dinner with friends.
I went right up to him and after listing the many ways we had met in the past I'm surprised he didnt call security but instead he just listened with his typical twinkle, clasped my hands and hoped he'd see me soon.
Mr. McCourt, you said your life had the second act that F. Scott Fitzgerald swore did not exist. Like all great stories of triumph, i wish that act had been longer.
May your third, wherever it is set, be just as triumphant.

Read other comments from his former students and more about McCourt, here.

william fitzsimmons, what took me so long

lying on my back in bed with these songs filling the darkness, crying a little. its amazing what gets under my skin these days. and this guys voice is definitely working me over. plus theres a piano so i'm pretty much finished before it begins.

enjoy. or whatever one does with heartwrenchingly beautiful songs.

shesus is it the weekend yet?

heals (12:30:25 PM): omg dooze i think something died in the bathroom
daisy (12:30:40 PM): are you referring to a body on the ground or just a death-like stench because ive seen both in that bathroom and id put nothing past this building
heals (12:30:44 PM): TRUTH pimps dorks and crazies around here.
heals (12:30:46 PM): but a stench
heals (12:30:50 PM): it is so gross in there dooze avoid it.
heals (12:31:09 PM): dont worry, i go early and hold it all day.
heals (12:31:03 PM): i think i have to stop drinking water
heals (12:31:05 PM): for at least an hour
daisy (12:31:24 PM): lucky for me i'm a camel
daisy(12:31:32 PM): who doesnt drink water. ever.
daisy (12:31:48 PM): lucky at least for my sense of smell. somewhat unlucky for my overall health.

daisy (9:44:31 AM): sweet jesus
vanessa (9:45:09 AM): yeah
daisy (9:45:12 AM): i litterally had to coax her into thinking she had the idea first when id proposed it twenty minutes ago and then had to sit there for twenty minutes as she instructed me on how to do the very thing id first suggested that shed shot down. im trying to regain my composure but it was very hard to keep in the moment.
vanessa (9:45:40 AM): I will buy you a cookie
daisy (9:45:52 AM): amazingly i feel all better just knowing that.
vanessa (9:46:34 AM): I know
vanessa (9:46:41 AM): I'm what many people might refer to as a saint
daisy (9:46:50 AM): or just she-jesus
vanessa (9:46:58 AM): shesus
daisy (9:47:09 AM): bRILLIAANT.

one skill im developing at this job: massive multitasking

for instance right now, as i post this, im also on the phone, updating a huge dashboard, answering emails and AIMs and have five other documents and four websites open.
then of course at a certain point after somewhat successfully keeping all the balls up in the air-and i count my sense of humor, sanity, eating and sleeping as balls- ill find ive dropped one in a big way.
anyway this began as me apologizing to chase for dropping a small ball and then spiralled into absolute insanity as most of my conversations with chase tend to do. and, of course, all this banter while were typing, emailing, calling, yelling over the cube walls.
...you'd think we did something really important around here.

Chase(2:16:55 PM): were you able to follow up with Aly on the status?
Daisy (2:17:49 PM): yes. i did and then i never heard back. and then completely forgot about it. let me just check.im on a call right now it might be a minute.
Daisy (2:24:01 PM): yeah she didnt respond. I can ask her again.
Chase (2:24:25 PM): call that ho
Chase (2:24:30 PM): lol, but don't repeat that
Daisy (2:24:33 PM): HA ok
Daisy (2:24:36 PM): haha
Daisy (2:24:40 PM): lord
Chase (2:25:00 PM): what?
Daisy (2:25:06 PM): just... you.
Chase (2:25:17 PM): no no, I'm not God
Chase (2:25:19 PM): I'm Chase
Chase (2:25:25 PM): easily mistaken, but not the same
Daisy (2:25:26 PM): oh oh sorry i got all confused there
Chase (2:25:42 PM): my water walking abilities aren't there
Daisy (2:25:43 PM): i know really, its that blinding light that tends to eminate from your AIM icon.
Chase (2:25:54 PM): those were angels
Daisy (2:26:02 PM): cahlearly.
Chase (2:26:09 PM): LOL
Chase(2:26:16 PM): I was like. um is that a word I don't know?
Chase (2:26:22 PM): I tried sounding it out
Chase(2:26:25 PM): and then laughed
Daisy (2:26:26 PM): hahhahaha
Daisy (2:26:30 PM): awesome
Chase (2:27:00 PM): lkpkp
Chase(2:27:04 PM): that was Ashley saying hi
Chase (2:27:08 PM): by stomping on my keyboard
Chase (2:27:11 PM): she does it often
Daisy (2:27:28 PM): HAH wow. just puts her foot right up there?
Chase(2:27:45 PM): lol, no she uses her dirty little paws
Chase (2:28:03 PM): I moved into Perrin's window cube
Chase (2:28:10 PM): since she moved to SF. Whore
Daisy (2:31:51 PM): seriously. so its just you two? how many people are in that office?
Chase (2:32:16 PM): 35-40
Daisy (2:32:27 PM): um wow.
Chase (2:32:35 PM): but only 15 of us are PR
Daisy (2:32:36 PM): we have 3-5.
Daisy (2:35:28 PM): but in case you think youre the only office with shennanigans, im on a call and ellen just shrieked about some "funk in her turkey" and then almost launched a piece over the cube wall.
Chase (2:35:41 PM): nice
Chase(2:36:05 PM): tell her to keep her swine flu infested turkey to herself
Daisy (2:36:51 PM): more or less what i said.
Daisy (2:37:06 PM): it really was repulsive.
Chase(2:37:08 PM): does Thekla participate in your antics?
Daisy (2:37:33 PM): well she does but she tends to be anywhere from one to five beats behind the ball.
Daisy (2:37:41 PM): and some things are very very lost in translation.
Daisy (2:37:45 PM): but thast often half the fun
Chase (2:37:57 PM): that's so sad
Chase (2:38:04 PM): that's why I could never live anywhere else
Chase(2:38:11 PM): my life would be over if I wasn't funny
Chase (2:38:14 PM): or laughing
Daisy (2:38:51 PM): wow. what a statement. true though. i hear you. then again im sure youd be funny in many cultures, inadvertantly maybe, but theyd be laughing.
Daisy (2:39:25 PM): for example, i was funny in italy when i walked into a bar and asked for a blow job
Daisy (2:39:37 PM): because thats one mere vowel away from the word for grapefruit juice
Chase (2:39:41 PM): OMG
Chase (2:39:42 PM): OMG
Chase (2:39:46 PM): my stomach hurts
Chase (2:39:49 PM): laughing too hard'
Daisy (2:40:03 PM): exactly. so were the 23 men at the counter

Chase(2:41:08 PM): did you ever have a hamster or gerbil?
Chase (2:42:33 PM): also, I'm asking because the wood shavings you put in their cage has a distinct smell
Chase (2:42:44 PM): fresh, woodsie, but definitely smells like wood
Chase (2:43:00 PM): well my colleague here, Drew, wears a cologne that smells like wood chips
Chase (2:43:05 PM): and it DRIVE ME CRAZY!
Chase (2:43:17 PM): I'm like dude, you smell like hamster shavings
Daisy (2:43:17 PM): good crazy or bad?
Daisy (2:43:21 PM): ok bad.
Daisy (2:43:23 PM): hahahah
Chase (2:43:26 PM): I mean it's fresh
Chase(2:43:32 PM): but who wants to smell like wood shavings?
Daisy (2:43:45 PM): i dont want to smell like anything that could remotely be related to a rodent.
Daisy (2:43:48 PM): so yeah. bad choice
Daisy (2:43:55 PM): someone should make a point of saying something
Chase (2:43:57 PM): exactly
Chase (2:44:17 PM): I can't. I already critic his AWFUL outfit choices
Daisy (2:44:17 PM): like, gosh its so funny every time i come over to your cube i get this wave of memories of my dearly departed harry the hamster
Daisy (2:44:29 PM): oh no!
Daisy (2:44:31 PM): hes a disaster
Chase (2:44:31 PM): he's a bad gay
Daisy (2:44:38 PM): hes GAY?!
Daisy (2:44:42 PM): horror.
Chase (2:44:45 PM): totally
Chase (2:45:03 PM): we used to have a HOT gay colleague but he got canned
Chase (2:45:24 PM): and now I'm stuck with fashion faux paus Drew
Daisy (2:47:13 PM): even the name has a woooh woooh after it.
Chase (2:47:26 PM): tell me about it.

thank god for AIM moments to keep me sane on an INsane day.

and thank god for this blog where i can quickly post these gems lest they escape the 90 second window of my memory.
*banging across the office from the direction of "beeker" the dude with unbelievably nasal voice*
heals (12:45:26 PM): WTF beeks
heals (12:45:36 PM): what is he banging for the love
daisy (12:45:41 PM): i dont have any desire to know what beekers bangin.
heals (12:45:43 PM): ha. well im going to go bang his head on my knee dooze.
heals (12:46:05 PM): OMG so much BANGING
daisy (12:46:10 PM): hes redecorating. clearly.
heals (12:46:12 PM): i am going to redecorate his face.
heals (12:46:14 PM): i hate him
heals (12:46:19 PM): this place is a goddamn circus.
daisy (12:46:23 PM): it really is. of the fat bearded lady variety.
heals (12:52:36 PM): omg and doozer
heals (12:52:42 PM): there is something so bizarre in my turkey
heals (12:52:45 PM): i have to show you. its this gelatinous funk.
daisy (12:52:54 PM): well for gods sake dont throw it over the cube divider.
heals (12:52:56 PM): sigh. fine. though that would have been funny. im coming over. prepare yourself for nothing youve ever seen before in nature.

a version of something i wrote to J that i dont want to forget

im not thinking things are so bad and "have to get better." first of all, theyre allready really good. for both of us. think about how much crazy luck it would take for them to just GET better... and how much more likely it is for them to get worse. things dont tend to come together, they tend to fall apart so the likelihood is that things wont get better until/if we make them better. no one knows that more than you. what bugs the SHIT out of me and makes me angry is that im in a situation where i dont feel like i can make the changes. i have so much to do and have no choice but to do it and not only do it but throw myself bodily into it until, by 7 pm, i have absolutely nothign left to give, no ability to talk to L who i have so little time left with, no ability to write the poem i thought of on the way here, no ability to cook the meal id rather put in my body than the shitty nutritionally inferior one ill undoubtably shove through my mouth hole with the last modicum of energy i have left before collapsing onto my bed to start it all again tomorrow. and worst of all, no ability/energy to apply to the two jobs i read about this morning that i would LOVE to do.
but its better, in my mind, to be angry than to be complacent. and yes we should be forgiving ourselves and C and work and our bosses and whoever else for the ways they/we cause us strife... according to the gospel of gilbert... but im not there yet. and theres a time and a place for forgiveness. and this aint no ashram. though i do hope to get to one-or my own (coffee drinking field frolicking farming) version of one- in my near future.

people are soft - spot

i wish more advertisements were this thoughtful and beautiful.

simics stones

yesterday i went to the longfellow house in cambridge to hear charles simic read. it was held at a 250 year old historic house that usually costs money to see, but for this event it was free to get in, free to walk around, free to sit down in the garden in the sun and watch simic as he stood in the shade of a crab apple tree reading his wonderfully obscure poems laced with his dry yugoslavian accent... hes the former US poet laureate and a pulitzer prize winner... and it was me, my patient companion, and maybe 35 other 75+ year old audience members.
seriously, boston? home of 34857348092 colleges with writing programs? thats all you can muster for simic? i feel like my mom chastizing our generation for their interest, or lack of interests... but ugh.
anyway.
one thing i noticed was how often certain objects, specifically pearls, crows and stones, reoccured in his work. i love that about a reading; you start to understand a poets aesthetic, the way the landscape of their mind looks, the memories that were so powerful in their own lives that they became etched on their eyeballs, forever projected onto their field of vision.

the stones really got to me. im starting my bosses wedding poem now and thinking a lot about sparks flying, what it takes for that to happen between something as simple and seemingly energyless as a stone.
anyway here's an excerpt i love from a piece of his:

The stone is a mirror which works poorly. Nothing in it but dimness. Your dimness or its dimness, who’s to say? In the hush your heart sounds like a black cricket.

and a poem he read yesterday:

Stone

Go inside a stone
That would be my way.
Let somebody else become a dove
Or gnash with a tiger's tooth.
I am happy to be a stone.

From the outside the stone is a riddle:
No one knows how to answer it.
Yet within, it must be cool and quiet
Even though a cow steps on it full weight,
Even though a child throws it in a river;
The stone sinks, slow, unperturbed
To the river bottom
Where the fishes come to knock on it
And listen.

I have seen sparks fly out
When two stones are rubbed,
So perhaps it is not dark inside after all;
Perhaps there is a moon shining
From somewhere, as though behind a hill—
Just enough light to make out
The strange writings, the star-charts
On the inner walls.

the sharpest heal on the shoe rack

heals, just now, on the phone:
"G as in George, R as in Ralph, A as in Alan, Y... Y... as in Youseff."
silence.
all three of us at the same time: "Youseff, really?"
Ellen: "i couldnt think of any other names with a Y!... except yolanda... but thats just tacky!"

so much to teach me.

Chase (2:09:09 PM): we have a new mo at the company
daisy(2:09:20 PM): a new... mo?
daisy (2:09:28 PM): ho...mo?
daisy(2:09:32 PM): what is mo?
Chase (2:09:55 PM): shish. I have so much to teach you
daisy (2:09:59 PM): you really do.
Chase(2:10:12 PM): anyway. yes. the new head of finance for tech is family
daisy(2:11:55 PM): awesome. ps on newsflow right now and ellen just called denise a man. by accident
Chase(2:12:52 PM): OMG
Chase (2:12:56 PM): I missed newsflow
Chase (2:12:56 PM): fuck
Chase(2:12:58 PM): whatever
Chase (2:13:07 PM): and that's AWESOME. and maybe true.
daisy (2:13:45 PM): exactly. and newsflow is basically useless so no worries. but what is WRONG with your calendar?
Chase (2:14:00 PM): no idea
Chase (2:14:02 PM): it's on crack
Chase(2:14:05 PM): like whitney
daisy (2:14:42 PM): poor whitney. posterchild for crack. shell make her comeback just you wait.
Chase(2:15:15 PM): she's one person I wish would make a come back
daisy(2:16:14 PM): um yeah. she was my second cd. right after rod stewart. and i tell you that in confidence.
Chase (2:17:37 PM): im so horrified. but im laughing so hard...
Chase (2:17:41 PM): with you
daisy (2:17:46 PM): right. not at all at me.
Chase (2:19:49 PM): never
daisy (2:20:05 PM): well it really makes a lot of sense if you think about it. what did my mother expect? i may not be gay but theres no way i was going to be straight when i was hip thrusting around my room to "hot legs" at age ten.

a good point.

heals: its so beautiful out i swear to god i'm going to leave for lunch and never come back. i'm going to send out an email saying i pooped my pants.
me: really? that?
ellen: no one would question it. no one would even dare.

let it go by fauxliage

great moments in the office today

just now torrey was walking by my cube and pointed to my huge email font and goes, "jesus dooze do you think you could have any bigger--" and vanessa, from her cube goes, "i know right! theyre huge! i cant stop staring at them!" and torreys like, "...font....?" and vanessas really quiet for a moment and then she goes " right. i was totally talking about font too"
loved it. laughed my ass off for like twenty minutes. it was just what i needed.

and then an IM convo with healy:

heals
i'm using those terrible pads and i haaate it
i have the ugliest to-do list ever.
ugly in so many ways
at least i could have a functional notebook
i had to unzip my pants
after a salad.
dooze
you know how you scan a series of IMs?
i just scanned from "im using those terrible pads" to "i had to unzip my pants"
and got reallll worried about what beeker was seeing over there in your cube
heals
hahahahahaha. yes i do know what you mean
the little popups
and ew who wears pads doozer!
dooze
i know. neanderthals!
heals
my mom used to!!! hahahahahaha
dooze
not ashamed to say i had a friend who did and i ridiculed her until she switched
heals
me too
same with thongs
she wouldnt wear thongs
probably because of the maxis
dooze
HAH
its amazing the important topics we cover around the office

scratch the sarcasm

i AM an html genius. i managed to apply this background, center the text, narrow the text, nudge the date, and change the colors all in html.
do i smell an unlikely back up career? i believe i do.

nevermind

had to change back to simple simple formatting because despite my obvious expertise with html i wasnt able to stop the dangling vines from obscuring my text. *shakes fist* meddling vines!
seriously though, that was a pretty background. why are all blogger templates so robotic and ugly. i want something simple and classic and natural.
so i went with this neon orange/pink combo.
for now.
the hunt continues.
and dont worry i'm well aware that im spending more time thinking about my background than i am writing a damn word on this thing.
its kind of like how i refuse to write a poem but went out and bought paint canvas and brushes the other day. and all i want to do is glop the paint on the the canvas and moosh it around like a baby.
im totally incapable of producing anything these days. even new love. especially new love, which requires the energy of a thousand poems just to generate that first spark. but im drained.
and that is why i broke up with The Girl.
i still cant believe how it happened. a walk, a talk, an equation involving my ability to give love, her need for my love, and a big equals sign followed by zero relationship.
extremely rational, dare i say, professional.
just that alone is probably a good indication of why it needed to end. i'm used to blood sweat and tears all the way to the finish line.
but i've been in her shoes and i know how much it hurts. no matter how much i buffered the fall by taking it on me, blaming my crazy confused heart, thanking her for all she gave and taught me, wishing things could be different, promising friendship.
we will be friends. we are allready talking. and i've allready regretted doing it but i can tell that will pass. i'm kind of, hmm, broken? and i cant tell how or where when i'm using a human as a crutch. not to mention how much more she deserves then that kind of bullshit.
but why am i so tired? so deeply, vacantly tired?
heres the conversation that just happened in my office:
D:
i'm exhausted. totally depleted. i dont even know the word--
V:
catatonic.
D:
yes. its like someone removed part of my brain like a--
V:
lobotomy.
D:
yes. but stop it. youre making whats left of my brain hurt.
V:
headache.
D:
if i could stand up i would kill you.

if this were dailycandy i'd say: the new face of the eye of the day!

but its not, thankgod, so im just letting you k now that i applied a new template to the blog thats really pretty. only problem is, it appears its only visible on a pc because as i type im at home with my work pc and my personal mac opened to the blog (yes, i have two computers and two phones in front of me, i refuse to merge my work and personal gadgets...or lives) and they look like two different sites. if it werent so damn lovely id change it but im keeping it for now and instead pasting a picture below so if its not coming up for you you can see what it SHOULD look like. i know this makes no sense but its so pretty! let me enjoy it for a while! GOD!



im working from home to avoid the traffic later when im trying to get out of the city but i couldnt have picked a better day to stay inside, its pouring rain, dark as a 4 oclock winter, and occasionally letting loose the kind of thunder claps that send my cat into a litteral tailspin. so it was a good day to stay huddled up at my window desk in my nightshirt with my cat clinging to my lap and my various appliances humming warmly.

also, it was a long and complicated but important night that tested what im made of and reminded me that even the people you think you have all figured out contain surprises of strength and beauty... ill write about it eventually, but not now. for now, just the song of my night:

'were all gonna die- 100 meters of existence'

go here and look at simon hoegsberg's amazing piece. its a photo 100 meters long, scrollable on his website, featuring 178 people shot over the course of 20 days in the same railroad station.
everytime i look i find some smile pattern gesture emotion i missed before.
this is the kind of art i respond to.