Tuesday, July 20, 2010

once it's out of your hands

it's out of your control.

You make a song, put it out in to the world, and people can do shit like this:

It's crazy!

Friday, July 16, 2010


"My brother his high-functioning and able to live on his own with assistance only in budgeting and that sort of thing. He has a full-time job that he likes, and hobbies he enjoys. If not for his other mental disabilities (ADHD, learning disabilities), he would probably be considered Asberger's or close to that end of the spectrum -- he's actually quite outgoing and enjoys being social one on one or in small groups. However, his emotional development and social skills level are probably closer to an early teen's than a twentysomethings, and are where his autism shows most. He doesn't understand the nuances of interpersonal relations, misses nonverbal cues and isn't aware of how others perceive him or react to his idiosyncrasies.

Because of his disabilities, he has some trouble making friends. He's very sweet, but can get very repetitive in conversation. There are a couple topics that he'll talk about for hours, but he's willing to talk about other things too -- just not as easily. His reading and writing skills are poor, so he has trouble expressing himself clearly in print. Despite this, he loved to use Facebook to keep in touch with people. He even created his own group to talk about food, a topic I didn't even know he was interested in. He was trying to use Facebook as a way to expand his social circle.

Unfortunately, the the broad definition of the word "friend" on Facebook got him in trouble. Despite repeated explanations, he didn't understand that the people listed as "friends" weren't always someone close -- they could be just an acquaintance or someone from high school that his friends don't actually talk to anymore. All he could see was that his friends had other friends, and he tried to meet some of them -- which he did by repeatedly messaging them and in some cases calling them if their phone number was listed, whether he'd met them in person or not.

A complicating factor is that in addition to wanting more friends in general, I'm pretty sure he wants a girlfriend. He won't admit it to me, but it's pretty clear from his status updates and the messages he was sending to the friends-of-friends and former classmates he was contacting -- who were almost exclusively female. (Not to mention all the sketchy dating sites he keeps joining.) No doubt enough of them saw his poorly written messages as harassment and reported him, leading to his banination.

I really want to help him get back on Facebook -- it's a valuable way to keep him connected to friends and family. But I need help developing some guidelines for him to make sure he doesn't get himself kicked off again.
• How can I explain the vagaries of "Facebook friend"?
• What points should I lay out to help him determine when it's OK to contact a person?
• How can I explain to him how to get to know an acquaintance or a friend of a friend better without scaring them or seeming like he's harassing them? (Which I recognize is a much larger issue than just Facebook.)"

Thursday, July 1, 2010

dear friend, these ugly cookies represent my love for you.

As you may or may not know, I have been without kitchen for the past four months.

I've never been particularly passionate about cooking; just in odd spurts of crackpot entrepreneurship. i.e., making jam, screen printing cakes, the famed guitar cake of christopher's 27th birthday. Not having a kitchen has really degraded my respect for the way ingredients' basic chemistries work to enhance or destruct each other. I have been storming in to friends' kitchens with foolish bravado, immolating really nice produce, and it absolutely must stop. Take for instance the mess of a pie I tried baking a few weeks ago.

I'm a little arrogant when it comes to my baking skills; wholly ill-founded on my reputation on the Green side of the family for making the best lemon squares. I had this recipe committed to memory by age twelve, and thought I was the shit. Anyway, I wanted to bake a pie that made use of seasonal fruit (strawberries) without being overly saccharine. This is how my logic progressed:

strawberries + chocolate = traditional combo, but boringly sweet
strawberries + lemon = tart deliciousness like strawberry lemonade
strawberries + lemon + chocolate = SUCCESS

I was worried about the citrus not agreeing with the chocolate, as well as the juiciness of cooked strawberries creating a watery consistency. Two concerns that inevitably came true after three hours of essentially boiling the pie in its own guts at 375, with a stream of strawberry run off that was never going to set even though I used like 5 eggs. The end result was a primordial sludge that would only be a fit prop for a horror movie. (Sorry Gabe)

There were also the jam disasters '09-'10.
- tomato jam that set like a super ball
- garlic jam that looked like bile stew
- maduros jam that ruined the stock pot
- tomatillo jam which also looked like bile but tasted like a forest fire

I think I need to take a step back and work on perfecting classic, fail-proof basics in cooking; like making the perfectly constructed sandwich. A sandwich where each element is texturally harmonious with every other element, and a sandwich whose girth does not discriminate against the small-mouthed (this is a personal hardship with sandwiches. no lewd jokes please). Honestly, what's the point of calling a sandwich a sandwich if you can't eat it without utensils? Or the insides splooge out the side from overdressing with pesto-aoli-bullshit? Or you need to eat the sandwich IMMEDIATELY lest the bread turn in to a spongey mayo tampon (I'm sorry if I've effectively ruined soggy sandwiches for you with that image but they are sadwiches!). I want to make a sandwich that gets better when you leave it sit for a few hours, that has the structural stability of a pyramid, and the unpretentious, comfort and quality of a grilled cheese sandwich.

I think the Rza Burger comes close:

"A RZA burger is a veggie patty with a fried egg, cheese, lettuce, pickles and all that, smashed between two delicious waffles. Spread mustard and mayo on it with a little butter and put that shit together. Trust me, son, that shit needs to be in stores."


I've decided to stop pouting about not having enough money to afford the lifestyle I want.
I think moving from bed-stuy to williamsburg has totally fucked my weltanshuuang. If well liquor and rollies were the bread and butter of greats like Jackson Pollock and Lisa Frank, they should be more than enough sustenance for me.
Instead of wishing I had more money, I should focus on caring for the money I have. Like these kids.

i used to be employable

The next phase of my employment search involves the crushing re-realization that I am overeducated in an antiquated niche market, over-qualified by the branch of that same antiquated niche market, and that I basically need to start applying for questionably legitimate jobs.

I just applied for a job as a Wing Woman to help a dude meet girls at bars.
I am totally willing to commit to the role of cute but not cute enough to date, non-threatening female friend. I will wear awkward color combinations, uncomb my hair, and put on a little too much make-up in order to successfully embody the part. I will wear socks with sandals in such a way that it teeters on the brink of working it and not working. I will wear questionable floral patterns that walk the line of bold/graphic or cluelessly hawaiian. It will be a stretch to pare down my 24/7 policy of nonstop glamour, but for $20/hr and a few good stories, I am willing to give it a shot.