1. Wednesday, April 4, 2012

  2. Wednesday, March 2, 2011

    during my first stay at chez julia last summer. home of the oat bran pretzels. organic tomato face wash. hardwood floors. and of course, one of my now-fave paintings: egon schiele’s sitting woman with bent knee. wait, why did i leave again?! 

  3. Wednesday, March 2, 2011

    trippy! just saw this pic on meaghano’s blog. took me back to my days crashing at julia’s pad in new yawk. in the weeks before i moved to paris. woke up to this painting every day. and thought we were kindred spirits. must have been the red hair. nice to see you again, roomie.
meaghano:

I had the name Egon Schiele in my head all morning, I must’ve read it somewhere, maybe from one of you, but I didn’t know who he was. Or she. If he was real I figured he was an architect. It seemed like an architect’s name. I was lying in bed after brunch and he was getting ready to ride his bike to work and I said, “Hey Is this a real name, is this someone? Egon, um” and then I spelled his last name because I realized I didn’t know how to say it aloud, “S-c-h-i-e-l-e.” How can we say something in our heads but not aloud? Do we not really say it, are we just aware of it? I had been saying it in my head all morning, Egon Schiele between thoughts, rolling out of bed, Egon Schiele while I brushed my teeth. Like a mantra without meaning. I’m not sure why except I do like the name. He pulled his t-shirt over his head and said yeah, “Egon Shee-luh” or, “Sheel,” I don’t remember how he said it, and I said, “Who is that, his name has been in my head all morning,” and he said, “He’s an artist, you should look him up.” And then I sat up and bed and looked over at him and told him I liked his t-shirt. He shrugged and said, “It’s just a t-shirt,” in this strange way so I said, “Oh, is it from your girlfriend?” I meant ex- because I am his girlfriend I suppose, or definitely I am but really I am me and that’s how I might always think of it and he said, “Yes.”

    trippy! just saw this pic on meaghano’s blog. took me back to my days crashing at julia’s pad in new yawk. in the weeks before i moved to paris. woke up to this painting every day. and thought we were kindred spirits. must have been the red hair. nice to see you again, roomie.

    meaghano:

    I had the name Egon Schiele in my head all morning, I must’ve read it somewhere, maybe from one of you, but I didn’t know who he was. Or she. If he was real I figured he was an architect. It seemed like an architect’s name. I was lying in bed after brunch and he was getting ready to ride his bike to work and I said, “Hey Is this a real name, is this someone? Egon, um” and then I spelled his last name because I realized I didn’t know how to say it aloud, “S-c-h-i-e-l-e.” How can we say something in our heads but not aloud? Do we not really say it, are we just aware of it? I had been saying it in my head all morning, Egon Schiele between thoughts, rolling out of bed, Egon Schiele while I brushed my teeth. Like a mantra without meaning. I’m not sure why except I do like the name. He pulled his t-shirt over his head and said yeah, “Egon Shee-luh” or, “Sheel,” I don’t remember how he said it, and I said, “Who is that, his name has been in my head all morning,” and he said, “He’s an artist, you should look him up.” And then I sat up and bed and looked over at him and told him I liked his t-shirt. He shrugged and said, “It’s just a t-shirt,” in this strange way so I said, “Oh, is it from your girlfriend?” I meant ex- because I am his girlfriend I suppose, or definitely I am but really I am me and that’s how I might always think of it and he said, “Yes.”

  4. Thursday, October 28, 2010

    move across country? check.

    just as i was busy congratulating myself and the US Postal Service for a job well done, i realized wait, that was merely phase one.

    so sell my furniture, sell my car, and pack my shiz in eight days was merely phase one?!

    mon dieu!

    phase two in full effect now.

    which led me to the midtown apple store in all its clear-cubed glory.

    this was me:

    I Want an Iphone

    i don’t know what the macair does, but i know i macwant one. and an ipad. and an imac. cuz my dell can’t possibly be purty enough for paris.

    but just before i could dole out thousands on gadgets i will never know how to work, i fled the crazy store. with all the crazy peeps. who cut in line. and never leave. cuz it’s open 24/7. calgon, take me away! far, far away.

    or really: just back to where i started. j’s apartment. complete with law & order svu. and bagels. and la vache qui rit.

    which reminds me…that’s the only french i can recall. besides the bad words. i think i’m going to need a lil more than vache and merde to rent an apartment in paris. french class begins tomorrow. je m’appelle jenny, bitches!

    here’s to phase two!

    but first, i dance. cuz i always dance. anywhere. anytime.

  5. Monday, October 25, 2010

    i haven’t changed a bit

    the more discerning readers may recognize this neckline.

    ok, i caved in! and wore that dress. AGAIN! i knoooooooooooow. i’m really pushing the bounds of good taste here.

    which would also explain my nyc diet:

    bagels. as in plural. daily.

    hazelnut wafers.

    and les madeleines.

    thank gawd i can get the latter in paris! but bagels? i bettah eat ‘em while i can. if i keep this up, i’ll be forced to change. i’m gonna bust a zipper!

  6. Sunday, October 24, 2010

    we b hungry

    my sista has my boot to eat. no fair!

    just playin. at high line park.

  7. Saturday, October 23, 2010

    classin it up

    just to prove we can. especially afta all those that’s-what-she-said retorts.

    10 hours lata, and we were still at spin. smilin.

  8. Saturday, October 23, 2010

    ballin in nyc

    made it to the Big Ap. just in time for an inappropriate photo op at Spin. who has time to play ping pong w so many paddles and balls around? the possibilities are endless…

    ah my dad must be so proud…