Our Wonder World

Marblehead Harbor

2010-07-08T23:03:00.001-05:00

DSC00447, originally uploaded by RachelHyman.

July 4th was excellent. This is the view from the flare lit Fort Sewell, right before the fireworks began. Magical.

#thuglife

2010-01-04T22:31:00.003-05:00

Generally, I don't care much about twitter trending topics. But then I clicked on #thuglife.

One might think of the things that are actual in a thug's life, like homework and taking out the trash.

Or better.

from the last three hours alone:

majeeda I take out my own trash. #thuglife
jrfinger Watching Ben Bernanke spit it on C-SPAN 3 #thuglife
superandrewemt i Order a Cheese sandwich and leave a $20 dollar tip #thuglife
briankl92 @Lydiaatthedisco AWESOME! Tonight I didn't eat all my veggies at dinner #thuglife
jaylithemermaid'I exercise one muscle and that's my strap finger' #thuglife
mandystadt I just sexted. Almost. #thuglife
ocblkbarbie On the first date johnny depp told her he robbed banks ... #thuglife
arodyo I went to my professional job in jeans and sneakers---#thuglife
mandystadt In line at Duane Reade a strange little man begs me to buy him a $12 Classic Pen Set. "As a holiday gift." So I do. #thuglife
iamMiCMurda I don't have a wintercoat I drink henny #thuglife
jaehood2010 I'll put Super glue on the doorknob #thuglife
Beetru2u i cook for me #thuglife
DjChefSev eating a fuitcake #THUGLIFE
MAYHEMM09 #ThugLife: Goin' to The Sharper Image and buyin' tha whole store.
MAYHEMM09 #ThugLife: buyin ' a bootleg of Sherlock Holmes.
jheller28 Showered, done with homework, and in bed by 9:00... watch out losers... #thuglife coming through
ShowTimeRose this chicken is Great.. im eatin with no silverware #thuglife
Natty_R We blow out matches instead of candles on bday cakes #thuglife lol
MastinKipp Balanced mind, balanced diet, balanced exercise, balanced mindfulness practice, balanced #thugLife
HypeBigelow She stands up to pee #thuglife
iKicKrOcKz I eat my fries with honey mustard instead of ketchup !! #thuglife
MPCowley Not updating my computer when it prompts me...#thuglife
MSCarrieDee When I used to wash the dishes at my mama house, I only washed the pots. F**k the silverware #thuglife
KenHaddad I just got a gym membership #thuglife
iKicKrOcKz If ur WiFi dont got a password im gettin on it !! #thuglife
theRealShabna_M eating a candycane after christmas....#thuglife
FrankieMcGinty
I've seen Dangerous Minds five or six times #thuglife

Notably, there are funnier ones. Go check it out. I don't know any of the above twitterers, but check them out too. Why not. :)
You can follow me on twitter too, I'm @rachelhyman

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On hiring contractors.

2009-12-31T00:45:00.005-05:00

Sometimes even I get indecisive; or I buy property in small yachting towns that I love, but live five hours away from. In this case it was an apartment, well under market, that I bought in a Massachusetts sailing town.

First, a few notes:

This was a damn solid financial decision. And I'm stoked about leverage for my financial future. Buying foreclosures in rich towns is not as scary as other places, like Detroit. No offense, but that city is not up and coming, this town is more of a blue chip.
A punk rock past doesn't preclude the purchase of real estate, especially of real estate in a preppy sailing town. We all grow up eventually, or we should; we don't want to end up wards of the state. Take care of your finances, no one else will.
If you love pirates so much, learn how to sail. They all knew.
This town is nautically themed and early colonial. I like to think about all the tough ladies who lived here while their men-folk were basically out to sea all the time, and how bawdy and wild they were. I've heard stories, they were way awesomer broads than I am. I try not to out do them when I'm totally over served at trivia night. Instead I stumble home through the charming early colonial streets (never drive after drinking), and drunk dial boys. I like myself honest.

Aside, these things have nothing to do with the topic of hiring contractors.

Buying a place five hours from the city that I live in poses a few problems.

Obviously, I won't be able to enjoy it much, because I don't get up there much. So I should rent it out in the meantime to preserve the investment. Flipping it should only be considered after the tax implications are weighed.
Renovations. I've been spending all my vacation time working on gutting and renovating the bathroom and kitchen. Tonight, after another slow day of tiling, it's become clear that I will not finish before my train back to the city I live in, three days hence. Ok. But every weekend I return up here, I have to bail on my bartending shift. I hate taking the bus, so the train cuts a pretty penny. The costs of doing the labor need to be weighed against the opportunity costs of my traveling here to fix things.

In other words, I need to hire a contractor. Pronto.

I guess my uneasiness comes from realizing a few things:

My time is worth more than my labor. This is odd to me, but has become true. Yay, Jobs!
Work gives me vacation days so that I might relax, and be recharged for work. It's actually self serving to them, and not intended for me to do other labor-like tasks. Oh. Fail.
What did I get myself into? *stress stress teeth grinding stress*

Now I have to find a contractor who can see the place before I leave in a few days, even though the next few days are holidays. Sigh.

A long long year.. starting over.

2009-12-05T11:52:00.003-05:00

A year later, I haven't written a peep on this blog. It's been a tumultuous year: funerals, divorces, moves, jobs, trips, purchasing property, working six days a week, trouble, adventures, art shows, broken bones, last minute trains, destiny hitting like a bag of bricks and sometimes hitting like the light from the diner booth windows.

Really, I'm just not sure how much I should share.

I've decided this: just because I don't write the column and I only bartend one night a week, doesn't mean that people have stopped asking me for advice.. *all* the time. I should just give the advice here, so there's a record of good responses, and so people who might not be able to ask or aren't smooshed up in the already running adventure of my life might be able to find some answers.

Sound good to everyone? If you still have questions, you can email them to me and I'll answer them on the blog, but otherwise, I'm just going to give it.

I've been so damn remiss.

2008-12-11T23:35:00.003-05:00

Update: I stopped writing my column when I moved to brooklyn, got a big huge great apartment, and a new job at a great big tech company. I'll upload the outstanding columns for posterity, but now that all the hubbub has truly died down, I'm taking my blog back for me for a while.

Be ready.

Meanwhile: There's a deep trench of sadness where my cousin A is perched in a hospital bed in shock trauma at the U of M in Baltimore. He got drunk at a bar, and made the last awful decision of his life- to drive himself home. They cut him out of my Aunt's car, wrapped around trees 30 feet from the edge of the road. Immediate brain surgeries and a helicopter ride aside, he was laid up for everyone to sit and wait and see. What we've seen is the twitching of flexing muscles, pupils dilated at different widths, no eye movement or rem sleep, no meaningful gestures or high level responses to neurological testing, a mri that revealed bleeding in his brain so widely spread that we can hope for very little. There is so much valid anger felt at A for his terrible decisions. He didn't just do this to himself, but to everyone who cares about him, everyone he knows.

It could have been worse. The accident was with the trees, not an innocent bystander. But this best case scenerio is grave and horrible. The anguish he's forced on his parents and brother, his family and friends, is immesurable.

Please, no matter what you drink or how much you drink, don't drive. One drink is really too much. Don't let your friends drive. Take a taxi, call a sober friend to get you, find another way home. The consequences are very real, and very dire.

My heart and thoughts are with my Aunt, Uncle, and Cousins at this time. Please try to think of them if you can, and send whatever good feelings you can towards their recovery, and their peace.

Advice Column #29

2008-07-10T15:04:00.000-05:00

Hey Bartender!
I live in a three bedroom apartment, and about four months ago we (my one roommate and I) got a new third roommate. We're all men in our early twenties, and my original roommate and I are straight. Our new roommate, a rather attractive man, spends most weekend nights hanging out with his "best friend", a really nice dude. His bf stays over often, and I'm fairly sure that they're dating, but his bf sleeps on the sofa. I think he does this so the other roommate and I won't notice that he's gay. My other roommate said he saw them kiss once, but they didn't know he was home. We don't care though. In fact, we really like his bf, and think it's strange that he hasn't come out to us, or that he would make his lover sleep on the sofa instead of in his bed. We also think the secrecy is causing tension between them. How do we tell our roommate that we're obviously not bothered by his gayness, and get him to feel comfortable enough to let his bf sleep in his room?

I wish I didn't know any gay men who felt like they had to live a charade, not just with the people who they didn't know, but for the people who were very close to the intimacies in their lives. I've been told that it's just not anyone else's business, and that no one ever had to tell anyone they were straight, then wait for the shocking gasp or the confused look, or worse. Your roommate might not care to tell you, or might not want to handle your reaction or questions. Sometimes breaking the good news to bad people makes the whole situation worse. You're not the bad kind of people to tell things to, so maybe you need to break the news. I think you need to skip the part where you expect your roommate to sit you down and tell you he's gay, waiting for you to tell him that's ok. He probably won't ever do that. You are right in wanting him to feel comfortable. Having anyone uncomfortable in a three bedroom apartment forces everyone to feel on edge, expecially when there's an elephant in the room.

Before you ask him to go clothes shopping with you, or what happened on the L-word this week, try to talk to him like you'd talk to any of your other friends about their relationships. Ask him how he met his bf. Respond like you would respond to any straight dudes talking about a lady in their lives, except don't ask about boobs (this will be good practice for your general ability to talk about feelings, not gear). Give aloof approval and talk about how bf is a cool dude and he looks really happy when they're hanging out. Hope for a look of agreement, but be ready to get the look he fears most when he tells people he's gay. He probably invented that look.

On another occasion, if he still hasn't started letting bf sleep in his room, address the real elephant in the room. Don't have a sit down talk, do it with a side glance. The most macho men I know have perfected this mention and drop strategy of talking about feelings. Generally I don't employ it, but it would work here. While playing a video game, ask him if he wants to take player two. (Or create some similar situation where you're both distracted with something else, but hanging out.) Ask him, nonchalantly, why his bf is always in the doghouse.

Advice Column #28

2008-07-10T15:03:00.000-05:00

Hey Bartender!

I'm a woman in my mid-twenties, and one of my best girl friends from college lives in the same city where I've been living since college. At first, I was really excited that she had moved here, I mean, she's my girl. When she moved here, she quickly found a boyfriend and explored town with him, so I didn't feel like I had to be the tour guide. When they broke up months later, she hadn't made any new friends besides him and his friends, and was totally crushed. Obviously I was there for her.

Since the break up, she refuses to go to any of the fun parts of town because the places "reminded her of him" or she thinks she'll run into him. I put up with the lame places she wanted to hang out with almost without complaint, even though it's really far away from where I live, and a hassle for me to get there. Lately, my life has started to get more complicated and demanding, and my friend keeps getting mad at me. She never asks about what is going on with me, but insists I'm avoiding her by not wanting to trek over to the places she frequents. When I ask her to meet me mid-way, at places literally halfway between our respective domiciles, she gets angry protesting "you know he hangs out around there!" or "but we went there when we were together!". Even our phone conversations have become all about her.

I'm tired of giving all the time. Am I a bad friend because I don't want to cater to her every need even though she's still upset about her break up? How long does she get amnesty for her behavior? Oh, what do I do to stop this? Please, help me get my friend back.

You are not a bad friend because you have your own life and needs. It sounds like the two of you are in a really bad dynamic right now. Just because she's upset about some boy doesn't mean she gets to walk all over you, and certainly does not mean she gets to dictate how you spend your time. She's taking you for granted, big time, and you're letting her. Just because she acts like a big baby, doesn't mean you have to coddle her. As for her amnesty, I'd say she gets to be needy and upset for a month for every year the relationship lasted. Then you have to cut the cord.

Put your foot down. Tell her she's letting this break up affect her too much, that the time for wallowing in sadness and avoiding the fun part of town is over. She needs to be out in the world, and needs to re-associate those places with new fun memories. By standing up for yourself in this friendship, you're also going to force her to react to her actual relationships, not the ones that are finished. When people are reacting only to pain, they often retreat to their childhood reactions to similar pain. Her selfishness isn't about what she needs now, but about what she needed as a child. You gave her a reasonable response to this need to be nurtured, and now, as her real-life adult friend, you need to bring her back to reality. The reality is that she needs to live her life, and so do you. So she can either toast to happiness with you, or you'll toast alone.

With regards to the phone conversations being all about her, you need to interject. She's being careless about your feelings, and is overwhelming you with her own. When nothing constructive is being done by talking about the break-up, it really is great to help her think about something else, and let her forget things that are painful. Sometimes you have to lead her to the right behavior- like talking about you, and the many things going on in your life. If she's not asking, you just need to tell her what's going on, and ask her for opinions about your problems. If she turns it back to a conversation about her, you need to bring it back to you again. Insist she return to the present tense, and not drag you through these memories and her feelings about that boy. When you call her the next time, don't ask "how are you?" but ask "how was your day?". Make her focus on things that are happening now, not how she's handling her drawn-out sadness.

You need to be a little ruthless, and get her out of this broken record of violin tunes. Demand that she meet you at his favorite bar. The time has come. Say you're reclaiming territory. If he's there, give him the head nod then ignore him. Make her remember how fun she was before he stepped in and muddled her heart. If there's a jukebox, use it. Tell the bartender that you demand two whiskey smashes to refresh your fighting spirit. Tell your friend that her heart is the size of her fist, and her fist should be holding some whiskey. In the end, if you're anything like me, the whiskey smash will probably make you giggle more than fight, but it's worth ordering like you are a pirate in an enemy port. If nothing else, the charade will amuse your friend, and make her see that her fears were unfounded. That boy doesn't matter, and he can't keep you away from a good drink. A whiskey smash is made deliciously with Rye bourbon, some simple syrup, muddled lemon and mint, and served over crushed or cracked ice in a low glass. Also, if you're a hulkamaniac, well, you'll know what to do.

Advice Column #27

2008-07-10T15:02:00.000-05:00

Hey Bartender?
My most recent boyfriend was one and a half times my age (24, 36) and during the course of our relationship, I convinced myself that I needed to be with someone significantly older than me due to my abnormal level of maturity (ha!). Now I've met someone who's my age who's wonderful, adorable, and makes me feel like a giddy kid with a new toy that I want to play with all the time. Should I be afraid he's going to ultimately be too immature and hurt me or should I just let myself be happy again?

When given the choice to enjoy your life or tear it to shreds with worry: always choose enjoy. Who knows what this new boy will be like, but right now, it's working well for you. If it stops working for you, then you get to decide if you want to work on the relationship or start over again. That fork in the road is not for a while.

As for the dating older men to reflect your maturity, I have a few words on the subject. Women who date older men are often looking for a man who grew into a type of person that the girl also wants to grow into. Sadly, the men are often looking for someone who they can eclipse. When you're young, try to choose a partner who has similar goals, or dreams of life, as you do- not one who is already living your dream or has already become the person you want to be. One of the greatest joys of love is knowing that as you grow, your partner will grow with you, and you can build your life together. These older-younger relationships often fail because the girl finds herself growing in a different direction than she planned to, or the man wanted someone who was not going to become more like the people he already knew. They're ultimately unsatisfying.

As you are now young, and with someone who makes the world sparkle, be happy. If you're worried about being with the wrong sweetheart, settle your tummy with some words: talk about your future, the far off distant kind of future, twenty years from now- do you both envision life going towards the same horizon? Do you want the same kind of things, adventures, houses, children? Find out all this stuff, and make sure you both share goals. As a team, you can achieve whatever you can imagine, but only if those dreams don't clash. Sure, there's always a little bit of compromise, but make sure the big picture is similar.

I would suggest that you have this conversation on a rooftop, with a plate of chocolate covered strawberries, on a summer night. You should make some strawberry iced tea in the afternoon. Before you climb up to the roof, new lover trailing you, muddle two (not chocolate covered) strawberries with a spoonful of sugar in a shaker, add 3 ounces of gin, a hefty dash of lemon bitters (preferably Fee Brother's Lemon Bitters), and fill the shaker 2/3 of the way with iced tea. Shake it like you mean it. Pour into two glasses, with some ice. Eat the chocolate covered strawberries and toast to the happiness in life. You'll get there, together, by choosing to enjoy life whenever possible, by licking the melting chocolate off your fingertips, and by growing together through all the adventures that await you.

Advice Column #26

2008-07-10T15:01:00.000-05:00

Dear Bartender:

My fiance and I live in a building with a backyard that we share with our neighbor, who we'll call Constantine. Constantine frequently hosts BBQ's in the back yard, which we are very happy to attend and also help facilitate. There are 4 other apartments in our building, and there is one neighbor (we'll call him Ajax) that seems to take issue with these gatherings. This past week Ajax started an altercation with Constantine in the backyard, which pretty much killed the party. Ajax felt that 12:30 on a Saturday was late enough for people to be making noise. Keep in mind that these BBQ's may have a lot of people, but there is never any loud music, and no yelling or loud talking. I can't even hear them from our ground floor apartment when the windows are closed. There are also roughly ten other apartments that have windows onto the backyard, and no one has ever complained about the noise. How can we calm this neighbor and keep on having our awesome bbq's?

It is so hard to stay inside on a hot summer night, especially when you have a luxurious backyard. Living in close proximity to so many people often means choosing between their needs and yours. What makes for a sense of community, however, is the ability to find compromises that satisfy both parties. In the end, at least where I live in New York, unless the police can hear the noise from the front of the building, you're totally allowed to keep on rockin' out. Being technically right isn't going to help the relations of the apartment building, and might start some kind of tenant war that will ruin your summer. I think you need to offer an olive branch here, or at least some drink with sprigs of mint.

It sounds to me that your neighbor is feeling left out. Unless there are little kids up there, his Saturday midnight curfew is probably a reflection of a dwindling social life which is highlighted by the parties he hears but can't attend. I think you should invite him to the next bbq. You shouldn't post a flyer in the hallway, or yell up to him at midnight that he could join you. You should make a real honest to goodness invitation, and slip it under his door a few days in advance. Then, the day of the garden party, you should knock on his door and remind him that you would really love to share his company at the party, and does he have a bbq preference? Why go to all this trouble? Because you're actively including him in the party- which, if he takes the bait, will let him know that you aren't throwing parties to alienate him, or annoy him, and that you do try to keep the noise down to a reasonable volume. If he feels included, he won't harbor so much resentment for a normal level of neighborly noise.

Sprigs of mint, you say? Oh yes, every summer is made better by the plethora of fresh mint available. If you thought ahead, you'd already have a garden teeming with varieties of the herb. If not, you might want to go to a local farm or plant supply warehouse and buy some bushy plants of the Kentucky Colonel mint variety- the classic julep mint. Apple mint is also a great variety to freshen up drinks. When you plant mint, make sure you plant it in a garden with borders, or it'll take over all adjacent areas. I've often thought of it as a fine alternative to grass (who's going to mow the mint this week?), but few agree with me on that point. The obvious answer is to make some juleps. They're perfect for summer, and perfect for cook-outs. Now, classically, we'd mix sugar, crushed ice, bourbon, and add a few sprigs of mint for aroma. I think we need to amp it up for your party. After all, summer is about fresh options, not clinging to the classics. Let's give your bbq guests some choices, and get that stressed out neighbor loosened up with a frosty glass.

I think you should prepare several kinds of simple syrup, and put them in different small pitchers (not glasses, but vessels from which you can pour- decanters, creamers, even a gravy boat with a sizable ladle will work). Simple syrup, a solution of sugar water (generally equal parts sugar and water), is a staple of summer cocktails. Hours before the party (or even the day before), boil enough water to fill your tiny pitchers, and stir in about 3/4 that amount of sugar. Take that very sweet, hot syrup and pour it into the many containers. In one container, have fresh mint leaves (making a strong mint tea). In another, have black tea leaves and some spices (think strong chai without the latte). A third could have fresh peeled lemon or orange waiting for the syrup. Essentially, go wild with these syrups. Make them sweet and flavorful, label them, chill them for a few hours, and place them on a tray that can be taken outside to the garden party's table. A bucket of ice, and a bucket of crushed ice, should flank the syrups. Add a bottle or two of seltzer water and a few bottles of bourbon and gin, you're fancy drink bar is nearly complete. The sprigs of fresh mint should be standing in a glass of water, and a little tray of lemon and lime wedges, and other small fruits (like berries) will complete the array. Let your guests make their own drinks, and mingle with your party-killing neighbor. Soon everyone will forget about the heat and the trespasses on their quietude.

If this doesn't work, let the neighbor complain to the landlord, or move out. At least you'll know you've tried to make amends. If you give it your best shot (and a tray of prepared homemade simple syrups is a great deal of effort), that's all anyone can ask. After the neighbor explodes, or leaves, get some of your friends to move into the previously offended apartment and throw bigger parties, together. It's summer; we all need to relax a little.

Advice Column #25

2008-07-10T15:00:00.000-05:00

Hey Bartender!
I'm in my mid-twenties, and currently have a job that offers me an opportunity to work for a cause I believe in, extends me incredibly freedom and flexibility in terms of hours and location of work and provides me a steady income. Trouble is the steady income is substantially less than what I know I'm worth and the lack of structure is starting to get to me. Do I need to find a 9-5?

It sounds like you have a sweet gig, and if the steady income can afford your preferred lifestyle, and you're happy, then stick with it for a while. Give yourself a time limit to this bliss, so you can leave gracefully before you begin to resent the cause. Sometimes we have to put our own goals before our idealistic vision, but sometimes we can afford to wait on that move. The time limit isn't a quitting date, but a re-evaluation date. In one year, or on each yearly anniversary of when you began this job, you should think about your life goals. If the job is helping you achieve these goals and offering you career growth, stick with it another year. If not, then you need to begin looking for a different situation.

As with any job, you want to make sure that you plan for your future by putting at least 10% of your income into a retirement account. If you're making far less than you're currently worth, you might want to look into a Roth IRA, because you'll be paying more in taxes later in your life, when you make what you're worth. I would suggest vanguard, which has a variety of low-cost IRA accounts available. Use this lower tax period of your life to your advantage. I'm no financial planner, just a bartender, so ask your accountant friend about that plan.

Right now, you have to decide to enjoy your life in its current incarnation. The stress of our lives is often caused by wanting more than we already have, or thinking we're not getting our due. It's incredibly hard to ignore these impulses and just enjoy ourselves. The anxiety we harbor by expecting ever more of ourselves can be a useful motivator, but must be curbed when we make decisive choices to live pleasantly for a while. You don't need a 9-5 right now, you need to stop worrying about keeping up with people you don't care about. You need a drink, some laughs, and that glimmer in the sparkle of your eye that says you're living your life right now. This time, this flexible less-structured time, is the time you're going to look back at when you have that 9-5, and you better be able to say you spent it well. Don't regret missing your twenties because you were too concerned with starting your thirties. Sure, make responsible decisions: have a retirement account, pay your bills on time, work somewhere that encourages growth and doesn't offend you, try not to live in excesses. Take some risks too. The job that cannot pay you top dollar could make you feel really good about yourself and your work. The extra flexible time can let you travel- before you have a house and a family to take care of. Or you can stay in your apartment and work on the projects that you'll never have time for again. Take the chances now, when you can, before you run out of opportunities to make great stories of your life.

You don't have to ask me for permission to avoid the corporate grind for a little while, but you do have to give yourself permission. It's your life, to live as you see fit, by your own expectations and allowances. Your parents, teachers, professors, and peers no longer can tell you what you want, you have to figure it out. Have fun. It's worth it, and so are you. As for those drinks? I'd suggest, for your itinerant life of adventure, either the Fisherman's Brew Lager from Cape Anne brewery, or the Cisco Whale's Tale from Massachusetts. Why? Because I recently came back from a relaxing weekend on the north shore of Massachusetts, an escape from the heat, and at those stormy seaside bars I thought about the mounting anxiety all the late-twenty-year-olds I know have about their jobs, and about you, and how we all need to just relax for a minute. So have a beer, and live happily. Stop worrying so much. It's going to be fine. Cheers!

advice column #24

2008-07-10T14:59:00.000-05:00

Hey Bartender!

I'm getting married in the fall to a wonderful girl that I'm very much in love with. However, I'm having increasing tensions with her mother. Her mom is well intentioned, but a little over the top a lot of times. She's trying to help but winds up causing more issues than she solves. For Example, I mentioned once that I liked Apple Cider, and her mom had a case of sparkling cider special- delivered to me about a week later. There were two issues here- 1: The logistics of getting the cider delivered was a hassle for myself and my landlord and 2: It was more cider than I could possibly drink, and a lot of it just got thrown out.

Essentially, she has good intentions but does not really pay attention to what other people want, and I feel like I (and others around her) spend their time trying to manage whatever it is she's throwing at us.

Her personality really does not vibe well with mine and I have a hard time being patient with her. How can I communicate to her that I know she has the best of intentions, she really needs to just leave me alone most of the time?

The most important thing to do, when you are frustrated with your partner's parents, is to find in them qualities that you love about your partner. When you think about Mom-in-law, think about the qualities that you love in your wife, and remember how happy you are to have in your life the woman who taught your wife these qualities. Marriage is about family, and the way you begin the relationship with your wife's mom will effect the way your family interacts with her for the rest of your life. Start off with a little more understanding, and your patience will grow.

Despite our best efforts, we all carry around the programming that our parents gave us- and react to things as we've been taught to react to them. Eventually, you're going to encounter this same behavior in your wife, so figuring it out now will make it easier for you later. Think for a moment about what Mom-in-law is doing. Is she welcoming you to the family? Is she trying to show you that she cares for you? Or is she trying to drive you insane with cases of cider? It's most likely that she doesn't mean harm with her gifts, and that she needs to be assured that you feel welcome and know she cares about you. Telling her to "leave you alone" will not work, and will cause a huge rift as you rebuff what she thinks is a welcoming and giving spirit. If you can peremptorily assure her that you feel welcome- or whatever emotional message she's trying to send along with the cider- she might not feel the need to repeatedly assert these welcomes.

Also, teach her how to get the result she wants from you in the way that you find awesome. Maybe your family doesn't give gifts, but goes to dinner together or plays badminton in the yard or whatever you do. Explain to her the different manifestations of emotional vocabulary and ask her to participate in your variety. She might just be modeling behavior for you, and you need to pick up on her clues and respond to her. Say in a toast at a pre-wedding function, "I've been happy to learn lately that in-law family likes to welcome new people with often complicated gift giving. I hope that while I learn the traditions and customs of your family, you can also learn the traditions and customs of my family, so as your daughter and I create our own family, everyone can be included!" Givers tend to want to learn, and are usually happy to try something new, but never happy to do nothing. You have to give her something else to do, or you will offend her. Redirect her good intentions toward some goal that you find good. Accept that she wants to be in your life, as she's excited to have you in hers. Remember, you need to learn the emotional language of your wife's family as much as they need to learn yours, and taking the first step could be your responsibility, and joy. If nothing else, it'll be a big emotional step that your wife would appreciate, and will help set an example for inter-family relations.

As for other incidents, you said the Mom-in-law was trying to help. Great, you have a huge wedding to deal with, with tons of guests you might not know and details you might not care about. Delegate. Ask her to check that everyone in her family has lodging arrangements and travel arrangements. Ask her if she would throw a bridesmaid luncheon or a morning after brunch for the family or a bridesmaid shower a few months before the actual wedding. Give her things to do, so she'll stay out of the things that you don't want her involved in. Remember to thank her for all her help, because she loves those who are gracious for the help she gives them- whether they want it or not. Make her feel really included by asking for her input and guidance, even if you don't really need it. Make her feel as welcome as she's trying to make you feel. I think one of the best things you can do for yourself when getting married, is buy a box of thank you cards, and send them out liberally to people who are trying to help.

Another thing you need realize before your wedding is that you're about to marry into a family of givers (the apple doesn't fall far from the tree), and you better stock that gift registry with things for them to get you. If you don't want things, you need to set up an account for donations (explain that you're saving up for a house), pick some charities, make a list of restaurants you would like gift certificates to, make a list of museums you'd want memberships to, ask for donations of airplane miles or travel gift certificates, but you have to tell them what you find acceptable or you will end up with more cases of cider than you could ever handle. As much as you love your fiance, you need to put in the effort to make sure that you can redirect the energy that her family can't help but give. You can't change them, but you can peremptorily annul the stress by managing them before they throw impossible things at you. This is really important for your relationship, your marriage, and your future. These people are now a part of your life, and you need to know how to make that positive for you.

I've thought about giving you recipes for punch with cider, or drinks with cider, but what I think you really need to drink is some whiskey and cider. While I think any bottle of maker's mark can give you a decent mixed drink, I'm going to list you a bunch of whiskeys, bourbons, and scotches that you might consider adding to your registry. Let the givers restock your bar, and set a price mark for your tastes that discourages them from doing it so frequently as to drive you to drink. Remember, you want single malt, single barrel, and the older is usually the better (aim for at least 15 year aged). If I were to make a short list, it would include Laphroaig, Lagavulin, Talisker, and Aberlour. I'd probably put a bottle of Pikesville rye too, but that's just me being sentimental.

Advice Column #23

2008-06-13T12:22:00.001-05:00

Hey Bartender!

My ex and I are both going to a hippie love-fest where either one or both of us may meet someone else. It'll suck. It'll hurt. But there's nothing I can do about it and we both need to move on. What do I drink so I don't have to think about it too much?

Awesome. I'm glad you're done with the feelings part, and that you're ready for some new action in your life. You'll grow a new heart a little slower than your liver regenerates, so let's beat on the the organ that can handle it. I would suggest drinking as socially as possible, and by that I mean, never drink without toasting each glug, and never toast alone. Besides making you re-ignite positivity with every swig, you'll have a fun evening of naming all the wonderful things in your life and the lives of those who drink with you, and universal themes of stuff worth drinking to. How you drink (happily) isn't always what you drink. Since you are going to be consuming vast quantities out of nervousness (you'll find in life that progress can cause stress or nerves, which make you speak quickly and drink quickly), you might want to pick something less potent than four fingers of bourbon. I'm going to suggest the gin gimlet. It's lime juice, simple syrup, and gin- but every bartender can make a decent one, and it's easy to tell when you've had your limit, because you can't say "gin gimlet" without saying "gim giblet". At that point, switch to lemonade, which will taste similar, and refresh you. Ask the bartender to hook your lemonade up with some fresh mint, so the new positive "someone else" that you meet will appreciate your amazing breath along with your insistence on toasting to his pretty face.

Hey Bartender!
I am in the process of buying furniture for new my apartment. I am trying to go with the most environmentally friendly options that also satisfy my deeply rooted need to be stylish and my limited budget. What's a girl to do?

It's true, furniture production and shipping are a drain on the world's resources. Yet, we desire to live in a pleasant home, where we have a table to eat from, a chair to sit on, and a bed to sleep on, not to mention end tables, ottomans, wet bars, dressers, bookshelves, and more. Our inner conflict appears unresolvable when the "environmentally friendly" products are so far from our price range, and the products in our price range have traveled so far (wasting gasoline), are made of questionable materials, and just aren't pleasing to the eye. Don't beat yourself up about every detail. No one will hate you for buying that new mattress because you're afraid of bedbugs, or picking up that best sofa ever at ikea because it fits in your budget and your living room perfectly. Since you're willing to try to greenly furnish your new place, let's discuss the many options.

There are lots of ways to organize your space without importing tons of prefab plastic from overseas, without skinning animals, without cutting down rainforests, and with style. The first rule in loving the environment is to stay local. Shipping things far distances often causes more harm to the world than the products cause themselves. Great places to find neat stuff include local antique and thrift stores, yard sales, craigslist.com, freecycle.com, and asking your friends on facebook. Freecycle itself is a great resource for not only finding free stuff that is in great shape, but getting rid of the stuff that you don't use without trashing it. There was a time in my life that I would have advocated dumpster-diving, but having lived through the bedbug epidemic in New York, I'd suggest buying things or getting them from people who aren't throwing them on the curb. It's safer, and usually cleaner. Just remember the age old adage: reduce, reuse, recycle!

Before heading out to the thrift stores, antique shops, and freecycle pick up places, make a list of the things you need, and measure the spaces you have to put them. Also measure door frames and ceiling heights, so you can be sure that things will fit into your apartment. Make sure you don't see any bug problems on the furniture, checking inside drawers, backs, and bottoms for evidence. Buy or take stuff that you see potential in: you might not find the perfect pink overstuffed chair, but that ugly brown one can be reupholstered, and has a nice shape to it. If you like the dresser but hate the drawer pulls, you can replace them later.

So now you have a ton of cheap or free old furniture from local people and places. Step two to the cheap, stylish, eco-friendly furniture problem was the "stylish" part. Style is in the details, and is personal: maybe you like metal feet on everything, maybe you like only dark woods, maybe you want everything to be white or purple or covered in flowers. I wouldn't be opposed to you ordering a box of metal feet off ebay, or taking a sander to everything and staining it all mahogany, or buying a few colors of paint, and after priming the new stuff with Kilz spray-primer, painting it with two light coats of whatever color matches your eyes. You also might want to think about consulting the guru's of DIY decor: instructables.com, ready made magazine (readymademag.com), make magazine (makezine.com), and the old stand-by, Martha Stewart Living (marthastewart.com). If you need some ideas, or want to buy from artisan (and affordable) merchants, check out etsy.com for their on-line marketplace and keen trend setting. Keep in mind that Martha's country crock stenciling projects might look like something in your grandma's house, but her technique is premier if you're painting silhouettes of sparrows and tree branches along the sides of your freshly painted pale yellow bookshelf that you got from the salvation army. (Look to xeroxes of bird sighting books for the best silhouettes, copy them larger, trace onto clear plastic stenciling sheets.) Mixing aesthetics and techniques from several sources will make your home look uniquely yours, and projects are fun.

Invite your friends over to help you with a project-craft day, and some celebratory drinks! Do anything with power tools before the drinking starts; power sanding, drilling holes for new sofa feet or table legs. Get all the structural stuff done sober, or you'll end up with nightmarish pieces later, or worse- at the hospital. Paint in well ventilated areas, or make it an afternoon outdoor affair to be followed with some drinks. Lately, I've been reading the Houston Junior League cookbook from 1968, which gives great home-making recipes. The Velvet Hammer, a blender favorite from Bette Naylor, is made putting 1 package of frozen strawberries (10 oz.), the juice of two lemons, and 1 cup of light rum in a blender, turned on for a few seconds. Then fill the blender with crushed ice (approx. 1 tray of ice, crushed) and blend the mix until it is of an "icy, mushy consistency". Another delightful junior league drink from the '68 special is the single serve "Glendorn Orange Fandango" from Julia Leary. Mix 2 ounces of gin, 3 tablespoons of orange juice, and 1-2 teaspoons of sugar and pour it over crushed ice. "Powerful" says the Houston League's Drink section, just like you, who has the power to save the earth, furnish your apartment, and serve a great drink all in the same eco-friendly gesture.

advice column #22

2008-06-13T12:21:00.001-05:00

Hey Bartender!

I broke up with the woman that I'd been seeing for a little over three months. I really tried to want to date her more, but my heart wasn't in it. She was already integrated into my social network before we dated, but strengthened her role with all my friends while we were together. I don't want her to go away- she really is a great person- but she keeps making these underhanded remarks in group conversations. Her remarks are little cuts at me. There are so many layers to it that I can't just call her on every comment, but they all hurt. I did break up with her, so I guess a little of this is understandable, but it's been weeks. When is this going to stop? How can I hang out with everyone and not feel like I'm being attacked? Is there a way to get her to stop without blowing up at her in front of all my friends? I can't take this anymore.

Sounds like you bruised her ego pretty badly, not to mention her little heart. That aside, public ridicule can only go on for so long before it becomes unacceptable. Oh no wait, it's always unacceptable, but people get a pass among friends when they're hurt. So she thinks that she's a victim of your cold cold heart and can stab at you, evil ex-boyfriend, until you retreat or realize that she's the greatest and you want her back. Maybe she's trying to hurt you, and she thinks public humiliation is a perfect course of action for her closure. You humiliated her by not falling in love with her, so she things she's playing fair. Regardless of what she's convinced herself is acceptable, she needs to learn basic social decorum before she alienates you and all of her shiny new friends. Being in pain is hard, and I hope you can realize she's reacting to that pain. However, she would be happier to either remove herself from your immediate social life or learn to not react so publicly to the trespasses on her heart. The intimacy of pain is similar to the intimacy of love- private.

It is rather gracious of you not to try to pull rank on her, and make your friends pick sides. Also, shame on the friends for not noticing that fighting is progressively escalating in front of them, and they're doing nothing to stop it. You can rarely rely on your friends to help you clean up messes, but what they sometimes lack in leadership potential they usually make up in audience participation. You'll have to harness their reticent behavior for your own benefit.

At the next impasse of mean little comments, make a 'wincing in pain' face, turn to her and say in your most nonchalant voice, "Easy there tiger." Then get up, walk to the bar (because I assume you and your friends are at a bar), and order two beers. Your friends will take a moment to think about stepping in (but they probably won't), and she'll wonder if she went too far this time. You're speaking then leaving will cause tension and anxiety among the table. You, at the bar, need to take a deep breath, and return as the calming hero to this table. Hand her a beer, a mild peace offering, and say, "you seemed to need another one". Then sit back down, the victor, and start a new conversation about something that isn't your relationship with the woman of a thousand tiny cuts. You don't want to talk about the reasons you couldn't love her, and she doesn't want to make the same social mistake again. Effectively, you are putting her in her place, and saying enough is enough. But you'll do it as a gentleman, not as the jerk she's trying to portray you as. You have to act like you want her to act, as if nothing ever happened.

What beer to order? Oh yes, I knew this would come up. For you, I would recommend the Dogfishhead Raison d'Etre (trans. reason for living). It's a mahogany ale brewed with green raisons and beet sugar, and weighs in at about 8% abv. A delightful elixir from Dogfishhead brewery in Delaware, it may be hard to find on tap. If your local watering hole doesn't have Raison d'Etre, ask your bartender for something strong and malty. You need to keep that sweet taste in your mouth, and remember that you're trying to kill this problem with kindness. For her I'd also suggest something sweet. Keep everything sharp away from her, even the hops. This time of year, there are a ton of craft brewed Maibocks on draught. I would suggest the Stoudt's Maibock from Adamstown, Pennsylvania for its honey taste and 7% alcohol. Remember, by the time she finishes that beer, you want her to be happily chatting about whatever, not thinking about smashing the glass on the edge of the table and cutting your heart out. Don't worry, she'll move on soon enough. So will you.

Advice Column #21

2008-06-13T12:15:00.001-05:00

Hey Bartender!

So I am friends with this really great guy. He has been dating someone for awhile and from what I understand they are pretty serious. Two weeks ago we were hanging out at this bar and we got to talking about relationships...and how everyone I like seems to have a girlfriend already. The night ended up with me sleeping over at his house, in his bed. Things happened. We haven't spoken since. We agreed at the time that we wouldn't let the situation become awkward, but it has. Why won't he call me back? Can we be friends again?

Usually I would give you a drop shot of "what did you expect" in a frosty pint of "let this one go", but perhaps that simple solution won't help you figure out what is going on. What were you doing sleeping over his house? Do you want to date a guy who will go outside the boundaries of his relationship and violate the trust of his girlfriend? Why are you attracted to men who are not available? What do you expect to come of your awkward friendship? But it takes two to tango. If he's in a serious relationship, why did he let some other girl sleep over?

First, I want you to stop sleeping over boy's houses when you know they have a girlfriend. Whatever your excuse to yourself was, you need to know that this was a mistake. Any boy who would hurt his lover to have you isn't a boy you'd want. Getting some booty is no excuse for damaging someone else's heart, and no one in this tragic triangle can really feel good about it. Sure, it's his problem, his relationship, and his guilt- but you don't want to be spreading ill will around the cosmos, and you don't want the reputation of being a home wrecker.

I'm sure his recent avoidance of you is symptomatic of his guilty feelings about the things he can't tell his girlfriend, or did tell her- and the fury, sadness, and frustration that ensued. I'm not sure you can be friends again. I'm not sure you ever were before. Certainly if he did tell his girl about you, she's not going to want him to hang out with you. And if he didn't tell her about you, he might not trust himself around you, or you around her. Those are all reasonable reactions and fears. The moment you got into his bed, you decided that he was worth less to you as a friend than he was as a fling. That fling was going to end whenever he decided, and it seems to have ended much earlier than you would have liked. Maybe you could be friends with him, but he might never be able to face you. With the fateful night, ended your friendship. So now you have to let it go. Stop calling him.

You can either remorse that this fling and friendship have ended so quickly, or you can try to learn from your own actions. What about men in relationships draws you to them? What don't you like about men who are not in relationships? You need to do some soul searching and figure out if you're acting on a past experience: did someone cheat on you and now you are casting yourself in the role of the other woman? are you only allowing yourself to fall for men you can't have because you don't have time for anyone in your life right now? Don't spend this time, as so many women I know would, trying to figure out what he's thinking. Forget him. I mean it. I don't care what he's thinking. He's thinking about himself, and so should you. You don't want him anyway; you want the unattainable or to be the harlot. You need to ignore what he needs and think about yourself more. You weren't thinking about his best interests when you got into that bed, and you need to think about yourself to get your mind out of that bed. You can find a new friend, and there are thousands of single men out there, but until you know yourself well enough to know what led you to his sheets, you won't be able to have satisfying relationships with any of them.

Your goal, as a dater, shouldn't be to break up a happy couple and steal the man of your dreams away from someone else, but to have a happy trusting relationship with a drama-free man who only wants to be with you. You aren't going to get the latter from the first. So when you meet a guy in a bar, and he tells you about his girlfriend, ask him to be your wingman. Go talk to other dudes until you find a cute, available one. If you wanted to be the one night stand, he wouldn't have to call you back. If you didn't, you picked the wrong set of pajama's to untie. You made this bed, darling, and you need to get out of it. Practice, practice, practice.

So what I'm going to suggest is this: go to a bar and order something dark on draught. Why? Because men on the prowl (read single men) are strangely drawn to women with dark beers. I don't really know why, but go with it. Otter Creek Brewery in Vermont makes a caramel rich, malty porter called Sea Otter Baltic Porter. I read somewhere that Sea Otters float on their backs and use a rock to crack open the shells of crabs and other catches, using their own chests as the tables of their destructive food preparation. You should know that the otters who don't die from shark attacks eventually develop palpitations in their hearts from all the beating, and die from heart attacks. I think more of you than guts and blood spread shoulder to shoulder, and nothing but a broken heart to show from it all. I know you can find yourself a relationship that will make you happy, a night of conversation that doesn't beget loneliness. You need to cut your losses and dive back into the sea for a new catch, one with less attachments and more nutritious value. What's done is done, and you need to be done with it too.

Advice Column #20

2008-06-13T12:11:00.005-05:00

Hey Bartender!
One of my oldest friends got out of a long-term abusive relationship about eight months ago. Since then, she's fallen for a sleazy bartender at a dance club- and has become convinced that he's "the one". He'll give her the time of day to drunkenly make out with her, but he tells her that he's really not into relationships right now. She seems to think that if she falls more and more in love with him, that when he is finally "ready" for a relationship, he'll realize that she's also the one for him. I think she's gone off the deep end. What should I do, or say, or drink?

Oh dear, she is really delusional. There are three things that can happen between her and this dude- it can work out, it can suck and not work out, or he could use his position of power over her to really, devastatingly hurt her. What you need to realize about your friend is that she's in a cycle of abuse- she's cruisin' for a bruisin'. The abusive ex-boy was probably not the first abusive person in her life, and will probably not be the last. She's convinced this scum bag is the one, because she's sub-consciously looking for someone who can hurt her more than the last boy. Why? Because the more it hurts, the more she thinks she's in love. Pain is the most comfortable emotion for her.

In all likelihood, she thinks the cycle will end differently this time, that pain will lead to pleasure. But no matter what could happen, the outcome will always be another abusive cycle. If the sleazebag dance party bartender turns out to be a saint in black jeans who truly loves her with all his heart, she's going to push any buttons he has until he becomes every other jerk she's ever dated. That's what people in patterns like this do. The repetition is stronger than their will to change it, if that will even exists. Their greatest comfort is that they make whatever has happened before happen all over again, and they can anticipate the feelings, so nothing scary and new happens.

In the case of dealing with such confused friends, you need to realize that when she figures out that you are not supportive of her messed-up routine, she's likely to turn on you. You have to know this in advance so that when it happens, and it will, you will realize that she only knows these two roles- to be the victim or the aggressor- and until she learns a new way of loving and responding, the lashing out has little to do with you, and everything to do with her. So be patient, and don't take her venom to heart.

Obviously this new Romeo has no intention of making good on his smooches, and your friend will be totally blindsided by his lack of good intentions. Even though it's obvious to us that she should cut and run, she will not be able to hear any reasonable advice that you give her. You can take solace knowing that if she survives the harsh indignities of her love, that she will always remember you as supportive when you said nothing (or nothing terminal), and will show up when she needs you to say either nothing or something else.

Only in her most vulnerable state can the most subtle real advice be given. This will come months from now, when her bruised heart is splattered all over the floor behind her. Then, you can agree with her that the jerk was a jerk, and you can compare his jerk-dom to the previous boy's jerk-dom. You can ask her the first time she remembers someone making her feel that way, and let her talk it out until she sees the pattern that she's been repeating. Maybe she'll have a break-down, and you can get her into therapy to discuss all the negative cycles in her life. That's the patented New York way of moving on, with the help of true professionals.

It's totally reasonable for you to tell her, now, that you hope things work out and that she's worthy of someone loving her the way she loves them. Boost her esteem in any way you can, so she can be strong to fight the battle she's going to pick with this useless boy. But you don't have to watch the bloody slaughter. Getting her back, and being a good friend, doesn't mean you have to hold her hand while she makes her own mistakes. It means you have to be willing to buy her a drink and talk to her when she's ready to listen. Become scarce for a while, she'll call you when the time is right. Until then, make yourself busy.

When the time comes, go to a bar, and order yourself something distinct and strong like a Sazarac. This strong old classic (like the classic old twisted love patterns of the abused) has disputed variations on ingredients. For you, order it with the following: an old-fashioned glass with a lump of sugar soaked in Peychaud bitters, a cube of ice, a dash of absinthe (or Pernod if the bar isn't adequately stocked), a twist of orange peel (your comfort), a twist of lemon peel (your candor), and a jigger of Rye. I'd suggest Pikesville Rye, but that's entirely up to you. With this serious drink in hand, deliver the good news- that he wasn't the one. Then try to offer your friend a way to talk to someone more professional than you, her entirely judgement soaked friend (they all are), get her to an impartial, good therapist. A therapist can teach her how to get out of that rough cycle, and to learn that abuse is not love. Only then will she bring home a boyfriend that will be worth meeting, worth her patience, and won't make you want to stab his eyes out for how she's treated.

Advice Column #19

2008-03-28T14:24:00.001-05:00

Hey Bartender!

We've been together for seven years, and I know I want to marry my girlfriend. What's more, I know she's waiting for me to ask. I bought a ring about a month ago. I just can't figure out how to ask her. I mean, there's tons of cliche's that I'm sure she'd be happy with, but I really do want it to be special. I want her to be able to brag about her engagement, especially since most of our friends are already married or engaged. I just can't come up with anything. Help! My brain is an empty glass.

You need to revisit the fundamentals of love. Whenever you do enter a new chapter of your romance, you need to create an excitement about how you are loving each other. When you fell in love seven years ago, your love was fresh and dynamic. You were amazed by her, and she by you. Every morning was a bit magical and every moment with her was romance. Obviously, after years, life settles back in. Now there's no moment to ask her to marry you. It's not on the grocery list or the television line up or at the brunch spot you go to every Sunday.

At this point, most people fall back on safe ideas to break that routine. They go on vacation and come back engaged. They go to a fancy restaurant and by dessert they're engaged. There are aspects of these cliche's that can be useful: you want a sense of adventure and a sense of luxury. But adventure and elegance are not enough to rise above the norm; you need to add a sense of wonderment and magic to be overwhelmingly amazed and delighted.

How do you create a sense of wonder? You don't. She already has a sense of wonder, you just have to draw it out. Here's where I can give you no answers. Sorry. You know her better than I do, and you need to figure out what she dreams about. And then you need to make it happen. Not the big things, but the precious dreams.

Maybe she talks about sailboats and deep sea adventures. Instead of taking her on a boring yacht cruise, get a model building kit of the most complicated boat you can find. Spend a day with her building it, laughing, with glue all over your fingers. Ask her to marry you before you go on the island vacation. The mismatched, sort of looks like a boat sculpture will be on your mantel forever, symbolizing the joy you construct in each other.

Maybe she reads too much science fiction and is a big nerd. Make her a scavenger hunt based on science facts that leads her to all the places you both love and let it end at the planetarium, where you two watch a program on space, and ask her before the astronaut ice cream.

Maybe she wanted to be a ballerina. You could get those fancy dance slippers (tu-tu optional), and make a dance interpreting your love for her. The sillier the better, lots of leaps. She'll be laughing until she cries, but she'll adore you. Perhaps you could take a couple's dancing class afterwards, to prepare for the big day.

The best engagement stories aren't the most expensive or the most outrageous, but the most personal. You don't want to marry an idea, and you don't just want a wife-- you want her. So yes, figure out how to make her feel amazed, like she was when she was a little girl and first went to the aquarium and stared at the huge mysterious fish behind the glass. Make her heart flutter. Break your routine without using a fall-back plan. No matter what you do, don't put that ring into any drink. You'll have nightmares about administering the Heimlich maneuver. At best, you'll have submerged the most expensive thing you own into sticky liquid. Don't do that.

That's your homework. Remember: sense of wonderment, personal. Try to make her laugh. Be excited about her, let yourself fall in love with her all over again.

As for that empty glass, I really want to fill it with booze, with thinking juice. But to be helpful, I'd suggest that you take her out for a brain storming session. Order her a white lady (gin, cointreau, lemon juice), and ask her about dreams she had as a little kid. Figure out all the personal stuff that I can't tell you. Flirt with her a little, it'll be fun. I have faith in you. If you lasted seven years, and possibly for ever more, you can figure out how to make it magical. She's got all the answers. I'm just the bartender.

Advice Column #18

2008-03-28T14:23:00.001-05:00

Hey Bartender,
I'm a senior in college, and I'm having that senioritis problem where I'm not sure what to do after graduation. The job market looks crappy and I don't have a very "professionally oriented" major anyway. I don't want to go to grad school yet, and they say you need life experience to get in. What should I do? I promised myself I'd let go of my anxiety for all of spring break, but some advice would be handy. A drink might help too.

The year after college is going to be the most trying year of your life. It will test you and it will not always be pleasant. All those things your professors told you about bright futures and infinite possibilities will suddenly turn into the horror of paying taxes, or worse, living in your parent's house again. Be strong senior. You went to college so you'd have options. You may not be the oldest, most refined whiskey on the shelf. You might not have that unending initiative that drives people to do great things immediately. You can still be great, and have a great life. Only, you have to do it. No one else can do it for you now. Step up.

First, find out if your school has a dossier service. Sometimes these are called letter services and are usually in the career services office. Open yourself a file, and give recommendation forms to every professor who still knows your name. Ask them to write you two general recommendation letters: one for a job and one for any graduate programs or grants you might apply for. Tell them you respect them, and hope that by asking them to write you a letter now, you won't have to bother them in a few years if they move on with their careers. Realize that you are asking for a favor, so be gracious. You want as many recommendations on file as you can get, so that if you decide to apply for anything, you can have the dossier service send letters for you, on short notice, without having to remind your professors who you were and how they might remember you. This is important- you will need these letters in a few years and they will not be as easy to come by then.

You might want to have a meeting with a few of those trusted mentors and ask them what they think you should do. Obviously, the bartender gives the best advice, but perhaps your teachers can provide professional contacts to jobs, internships, organizations, or research. Who knows, maybe your favorite professor needs an assistant on his or her groundbreaking new project, and you are the perfect candidate for the job. You don't know unless you ask. Ask early, before someone else gets there first.

Consider your dreams. Maybe being a rock star is a little far fetched for your first few months, but getting an entry job in the music industry or becoming a roadie for a touring band- you could make that happen. In the professional world, being pesky is called tenacity, so send thank you notes and make follow up calls. Defer your student loans (it's easy, really) and get a job that sounds exciting to you. Do everything you can to explore your options. Work on a boat, teach English in France, get a job on a farm in New Zealand. Don't settle for the coffee shop job unless you have to. For goodness sakes, get out of that town, which ever town you've been in, leave your stuff in your parent's basement while your parents are still living in a house with a basement, or get rid of all your stuff, and get someone to pay you to try something not on the required curriculum. Meet people in bars, walk through open doors, be willing to live your life. Your future is not right now. Your life is right now.

The sensible side of me also wants you to think about putting 10 percent of your income into a savings account, get a credit card you don't use but for emergencies, and not to get that tattoo you've been talking about. Start applying for things when you get back from break, in the spring, before applications are due. Get better grades this last term. If your parents give you money for graduation, put it into an interest bearing mutual fund. You need to work your way to your future, not spend your way there. Get a job, but get a job that challenges you. Meet new people (your college friends will still be on Facebook later), and try to make your way across some ocean to somewhere else.

The job market in the US might be staggeringly bad, but in other countries, the situation differs. A year or two in an exotic locale will not hurt you if you decide to come back. There is no rush, no time limit, and no prize for being the first one of your friends to go to law school, get married, buy a house, or get a job with a 401k and stock options. Try to remain confident in yourself, and know that you are making good decisions. Don't do drugs, try not to get pregnant, and stay away from diseases or too much booze. Also, don't live like this for more than 5 years. In five years, re-evaluate what you want from your life, but not until then.

Some cocktails rely on the harshness of a lesser quality bottle. Cocktails so classic that they emerge from a time when quality was harder to come by, but taste remained at a nearly unachievable level. The relic of that time is the Manhattan. One can say what they will of that tiny island full of nonsense and finance, but this drink is the ideal of American prosperity. Take a harsh, ordinary quality of whiskey, not the finest proof you have, not one that remarks in it's sweetness and smooth qualities, take that bottle and pour 2 ounces out into a high glass. A martini glass will do, but really, any glass will do. Pour one ounce of Italian vermouth, and a single maraschino cherry, and stir. Why? Because your future is based on you being able to make the best out of whatever happens. Your luck may change, your credit may suck, but you need to be able to let go of that anxiety and roll with the punches. When you hit bottom, push hard. Whiskey, like people, comes in many refinements. If you don't think you're precious enough to be drank neat, make yourself into something you admire. A great cocktail can open doors you didn't even see, and strangers at bars will change your life. A Manhattan is a simple, pleasant drink made from a harsh spirit and a little something to cut the booze. You'll be fine, kiddo, just relax and go.

Advice Column #17

2008-03-28T14:22:00.000-05:00

Hey Bartender!

My girlfriend of nearly a year broke up with me a few months ago. We didn't speak for a while, but now, after I made a friendly overture, she's been sending me flirty emails. We're supposed to get a drink next week, and I think she may want to start something up. All in all, I'd like to be friendly, if not friends, but I think hooking up would be a bad idea. What should we drink to keep things on the up and up?

I am often amazed at how people refuse to recognize the negative impact of an ex-factor. Not how extreme you are- your ex-factor is how many ex-girlfriends you keep around. Why do you need her around, making things awkward? Is it to feel good about yourself? Few people are so awesome that you can't live without them. Do you want to torture future girlfriends? I don't understand. People do this all the time and I never get a straight answer for why. It's a bad idea, this post-love friendship. The point of the silence after a break up is to realize that your life doesn't need the other person, or to find someone else to take their place.

I can understand ex-wives or long term (like many years) relationships, those have meaning- those were partners who witnessed your life, and perhaps with whom you still have financial relationships. The girlfriend of one year- she was a project, a romantic interlude, someone who needs to be cut loose. She didn't work out, and neither will this "up and up" date.

You sent her a "friendly overture" because you wanted to know if you have a chance. Sure, argue that you just wanted to be friends; create whatever lies you need to tell yourself about how you just wanted to be friends, that this flirting and "starting something up" isn't what you had hoped would occur. This drink next week is going to lead to more rejection, either for you or her. You had closure before, this is about reopening wounds.

Listen man, ex's are not good company. They are emotional baggage you need to toss overboard and abandon to the sharks. You learned what you could from her, you had some stories, and now you need to put it behind you. The ex-lovers you keep as friends will only remind you of pain you felt, opportunities you lost, and the people you were- who you will never be again. What you need to do at this meet-up, for once and for all, is to end it. Not have some long drawn out relationship talk about what didn't work or what great times you had together, but end it. Shackle the hopeless part of you that wrote that initial email. Expel the dramatist part of you who wants to be friends out of spite. Give yourself a show of how much she doesn't meet your expectations. Get her wild sloppy drunk and see her worst side, then walk away after putting her in a cab home. Or get yourself wild drunk, and wake up with her the next morning to leave before breakfast. Either way, you need to kill this poisonous friendship before it begins.

My advice on total annihilation of your feelings: a Parkeroo. The Stork club spoke of this drink as a "among the more exotic of the restorative category... a sort of bastard martini". You need some restoration from this illegitimate evening. The drink had a slogan: " to drink it while it's laughing at you". Quickly, drink it quickly. To make: pour 2 oz. of dry sherry, 1 oz. of tequila, and a lemon peel over shaved ice, allow to chill, and then pour into a pre-chilled champagne glass.

Other fine options for getting wasted while you waste your time with your ex-lover include Kwak from Bosteels or Sierra Nevada's Bigfoot Ale. Pauwel Kwak, a 8% abv Flemish orange beer, is begun with three malt mash, then browned and sweetened with candy sugar. It comes in a quarter yard carriage glass- a strange scientific looking container- the glass will remind you that this date is an experiment, and if you had any sense in you, you'd be leaving. Bigfoot is a barley wine style beer from Sierra, and at 9.6% abv you might start seeing mythical things that don't exist, like the future of your friendship. Just break it off man, save yourself the torture. Go have a beer with someone who hasn't had the chance to break your heart yet. Let go of the past and find yourself a well mixed future. If you were better distracted by your new company, you wouldn't write invitations to people who you shouldn't waste your time on.

Advice Column #16

2008-03-28T14:21:00.002-05:00

Hey Bartender!

So I spent valentines day at a bar alone, and I met a woman who was drinking away her sorrows with her best friend. I got her number and now we're supposed to go on a first date. Any amazing first date suggestions? I'm a little shy, more of a nerd than a player, and want things to go well. Or at least to have a second date. Please?

Wow, isn't that the ideal end to a lonely valentine! Before we get to drinks, we need to talk about strategy. I'm not going to tell you how to get laid (there goes the readership); this column is about how to fall in love with someone. That's what valentines day was really about right? Cards and chocolates are only the beginning to our culture's meek attempt to articulate love.

So how do you spark love? Sure, you managed to get a phone number on the most desperate lonely night of the year, but now you're confronted with the pressure of calling her, and going on a date, and of course, courting her. Wow, that's certainly more to live up to than most mornings. You can do it kiddo. I have faith in you, or in me explaining to you what to do, and hopefully you knowing how to take some serious advice.

Call her and ask her out. Don't wait or be coy or play games. Just ask her out. That's why you got her number, because you wanted to spend some time with her. If you got her number for some other reason, this might not be the column for you. I'm still too hung up on love to care about anything less. And while you were drinking away valentine's day, likely with a glass of something that I pity you for- you were pining for companionship, not sex. So remember the goal you have set forth for yourself: love, which requires you to spend time with this woman in order for you both to fall in love, then yada-yada, birds, bees, fireworks- not my business.

Call her. Focus on her. When you speak to her think of her as the most important thing in the world- this is paying attention. You are paying it to her because she is worth it. Not because you are the "nice guy". You are the guy who actually listens. Your self-depreciating humor is funny. Your interesting stories are actually interesting. Don't spill your guts at her. She'll have to learn to love your guts later. Right now, for a while, you need to hold some things back- this is being mysterious. Are you actually listening to her yet? If you're bored, then you're boring. And don't tell me that you're mom said that, I know. Where do you think I learned this stuff anyway.

Back to the date. Ask her to meet you for tea. Tea? Yes, because you don't have to get someone drunk to get them to kiss you. If you do, you shouldn't kiss them back. On this date, you are not goal oriented, you are having fun. Fun is easier if you don't have to figure everything out on the spot. Before your date, discern an attainable fantasy- by fantasy I mean something you want to do that is fantastic. During the date convince her of your plan's brilliance. Then do it.

What am I telling you to do? While you're out for tea, say to her "I've always wanted to kiss someone for the first time in a planetarium". Then hand her tickets to the local science museum's planetarium show that starts in an hour. Wink. Or if there's no convenient planetarium, say "I've got this telescope in the back of my car, would you like to join me on some interstellar navigation instead?" Tell her stories about watching Star trek as a kid, or about astronomy club in high school. Valentines day may have passed, but romance is not passing you by. Can you name some constellations? Remember to bring a star map, or make up your own stories. It's your date. You want her to be enchanted, and you want to be enchanted too. So if planetariums and night skies aren't your drink, what is? Figure that out. If nothing else, have a first date that makes a sweet story.

Falling in love is about new experiences, about making someone feel a certain way for the first time, about bringing a sense of wonder between two people and holding it there for as long as possible. If you can do that on a first date, there will be a second, and many more. Another day, after you've discovered that she's the most fun person in the world and that you're both willing to have incredibly adventures in small ways, then you can slip some booze into the tea. Maybe she loves your guts, or loves your liver a little less than your heart, and together you'll see what both of those organs can handle.

How should you St. Valentine that tea? Pour half a glass of a spiced tea into a shaker with ice, add a shot of gin, a few dashes of bitters, and some honey. Shake and strain into a glass with cracked ice. Call it whatever you called that constellation, or tell her you named it after her. Or order up an old favorite, like a Zoom: one and half ounces of brandy, one fourth of an ounce of honey, and half an ounce of fresh cream, shook and served in a wine glass. Another delight for your new love could be a Honeymoon, a drink consisting of one and half ounces of applejack, half an ounce of benedictine, the juice of half a lemon, and three dashes of curacao all shook and served in a wine glass.

But first, you have to call her.

Advice Column #15

2008-03-28T14:21:00.001-05:00

Hey Bartender!

I'm an average guy, but nobody really likes me. It makes it hard for me to interact with people or go to parties (not that I'm invited very often). I don't want to look like one of those guys who tries too hard to be liked either. What can I do to be more popular without seeming even more desperate?

Grow a mustache. No matter how zany your mustache looks, it'll get people to talk to you. It's a conversation piece on your face. At first, it may seem that people are talking to you just because of the mustache, but soon you'll find that the mustache is just an excuse to begin a conversation with you- the rest is just you. It's not a gimmick really, because mustaches are all the rage these days, and grow naturally on dude's faces. Just don't become that dude with the zany hat, that guy isn't very fun.

Also, find a bar and become a regular. Go there on a regular basis, on the same nights, and get to know the bartenders and the other regulars. If you find that your pleasant attempts to start conversations with people are not returned, that the bartender can't tell the vodka from the gin, or that people aren't asking questions about your mustache, find another bar and start over. You want to find a community of people that you think you could be happy socializing with. There's no point to becoming popular in a bar full of jerks. Once you find a nice scene, attendance is mandatory (at least once a week). You could be nice, or demure, or whatever you are, but just keep going to the bar. As the other regulars get used to you, they'll grow to like you. Eventually someone will invite you to somewhere else, and by then, you can decide if you want to go or not. Remember- the trick to not becoming that desperate loser is actually not being a desperate loser. You can say no and you can pick your friends. You aren't a loser, and you don't have to worry about becoming a person you aren't. You just need to go have fun. People gravitate towards other people who are having fun, and people with mustaches. You can be you with a mustache, and you can have fun. Popularity, sorry to say, is an attendance award.

What should you drink with your new mustache in a bar where you are learning people's names (or giving them hilarious nicknames) and challenging them to games of billiards? Nothing better to cure social anxiety than a butterflies cocktail. The classic drink contains lemon juice, grenadine, applejack, and gin in equal portions of 1/4 ounce each. Tell your new favorite bartender to shake them well with ice and strain into a cocktail glass. Sure, it's simple, alluring, and tasty- but it creates a radiant air around you which whispers, this guy knows how to have fun. People will like you, you just have to like yourself first.

Somewhere along the line, some lady will become jealous of your mustache, and your circle of friends, and shout across the room- how can I get one of those. Tell the bartender to send her down a Clover club on your tab, and after her first sip, say "well, there's the 'stache at least.." Ok, maybe my jokes aren't funny. But this drink is also great, and egg drinks tend to leave white mustaches on the smooth faces of the ladies that drink them. The Clover Club is 1.5 oz gin, 4 dashes of grenadine, the juice of half a lemon, and the white of an egg. Shake these ingredients with some cracked ice and strain into a small wine glass. Just try to have some fun, popularity will follow.

Advice Column #14

2008-03-28T14:20:00.000-05:00

Hey Bartender!

My mom visits me twice a year. Last time she brought me a gift- a huge, exquisitely ugly painting. It makes my living room look like a discount bordello. She paid a fortune for it. What can I do? I can't leave it on my wall where people will see it. I have no room to store it. I can't get rid of it or my mom will write me out of her will. I need a drink.

I wish you would have sent a picture of this horrible painting. Perhaps I could find a drink that matched aesthetically. You have some interesting options here on what to do, and later, the perfect drink. I doubt your mom will write you out of her will over a undesired gift. She's your mom- and loves you unconditionally. That's what moms are for.

First, you need to find out how much the painting is worth and who deals or sells that artist's work. Find out how big of a fortune was wasted on the art, and the possibilities of the value of the work appreciating. Art is a funny market, and if you're going to jeopardize your relationship to get rid of this painting, you better cash it in. The internet has a lot of resources for finding other works by the artist, and assessing value. Useful websites to find out the value include www.askart.com, www.artnet.com, and of course, ebay.com. You may also find some background information on the artist's work that could help you appreciate it as your mother does.

Speaking of, why not call your Mom and ask her what in the painting made her think that it was perfect for you. If she comes up with unfounded answers, you could reply, "while I appreciate the gift, Mom, I think you see much more in this painting than I do, and that it would make you happier to have it in your own house." Then suggest a great place she could hang it. Let her protest, or ramble on about how it was a gift, and bring it with you the next time you visit her- and just hang it on the wall. You too, can insist. You've probably learned this trait from her. Try to understand her appreciating of the work, and try to remember that she was trying to show you those good things by giving it to you- and you missed it.

You are not required to live in a prison of things that cannot be re-gifted. You are not required to accept gifts you do not want and that do not fit into your life. Bad art can wreck the relaxing mood of your living room, and you don't need it. An option is to go to etsy.com and find something to replace it on your walls, or buy a painting from an artist you know and love- for a market (not a "friend-rate") price. You should support artists you like, and not feel compelled to keep art you can't stand. You have agency.

If you aren't ready to talk to your mom about how much you don't like the art, you can hang something over it on the wall where it presently hangs until the day before she arrives. The next time your Mom comes to town, go to some art galleries with her and find some work that you really love. Buy it. Tell your mom how inspired you were by her encouraging you to become a young collector, and then- astonishingly- realize the art you've bought displaces the work that your Mom inflicted upon you. You can also use the age old excuse that the old painting doesn't match your new furniture. Ask her if she would mind hanging the monstrous work in her house until you have a place big enough to take it back. When that time comes, tell her you can't imagine the painting anywhere but with her.

This second plan has the bonus of actually starting your art collecting, and making sure your mom gets to enjoy the present she thought you would like. I'm certain that it reflects her taste better than it does yours. You can also spend some quality time talking to your mom about what you like in a painting, so maybe the next gift won't be in left field. You two will have drank a lot of wine at the art openings, of varying quality and taste- much like the art. Just make sure you try to relate to your mom, so you can both understand each other's tastes. You need to show her what you do and don't like, in art that neither of you own yet. Then show her how dedicated you are to those tastes, by buying a work that you love- right in front of her.

While art opening wine can't be avoided, or upgraded, you can flex your big choice muscles afterwards with an aperitif. This choice drink can accompany dinner or dessert, and like you're conflict free resolution of the bad gift, has taken a long time to get just right. Pommeau de Normandie from Etienne Dupont is a mixture of calvados (apple brandy) and apple must (unfermented cider) aged for 30 months in oak casks. The aperitif is 17% alcohol, and has rich flavors of apple, vanilla, and prune. The rich and delightful taste will leave your mouth with a rinse of caramel. The mahogany drink has been aging in a certain kind of oak- the kind that was grown in sandy soil and burnt slowly when being formed into a barrel. If the oak were grown in rocky soil, it would leave a tar taste in the place of the vanilla. Your mother- she gives you things unaware of what they will mean to you- generally Mothers aren't trying to ruin your life or your living room decor- give her a little time to mature, and mix your critique of her gift with a desire to understand her tastes, and how you can improve them. If you throw rocks at her attempts to be kind, you'll just damage your relationship with her, but if you nurture her kindness, you can find out how much you have in common, and how art, and amazing Pommeau, can bring you together.

Advice Column #13

2008-03-28T14:19:00.001-05:00

Hey Bartender!

I'm a normal girl who wants to sleep with another woman. My boyfriend feels that if I do, he should be allowed to sleep with another girl. How can I get him to understand that this is different; it's about self-discovery and not sex. I don't want him to use it as an excuse for cheating.

If you're in a relationship that defines sleeping with other people as cheating, that's what you're doing. Women are people too, even the ones you're going to use for supposedly meaningless sex. If you want to cheat on him with a girl, for whatever reason, realize that you're telling him that you want to share an intimate part of yourself with someone else, and that he might feel as threatened by that as you feel about his sleeping with another girl. If you really think that having sex with someone outside of your relationship isn't about sex, you're only trying to justify an affair. Come to terms with what you want to do here: you want to have an affair.

If you want to do it without him taking equal action, you could lie to him. I would call you a coward for that plan. Or you could offer him inclusion by asking him to participate. A three-some might not be as threatening to him as you're journey of self-discovery, and you could both be involved with the same other woman, and watch each other take part in it. Is it cheating if you're in the bed too?

Really, you need to move on from this relationship. Obviously he's probably going to have a hard time trusting you, and you want to sow your wild seeds more. That's fine. You want different things. You need to make a new years resolution to be honest with yourself about what you want and what you need. You need to be with someone, or a few someones, who want what you want. He should be with someone who doesn't think that their own dishonesty is an excuse for anything. You should be in relationships that make you feel good and fulfilled.

What should you drink? The Harvey Wallbanger. The drink was allegedly named after a surfer in California in the 1960's. The drink, a dressed up screwdriver, was invented by Donato "Duke" Antone, a legendary bartender who also is accredited with the first pour of the rusty nail. Harvey Wallbanger is served in a Collins glass, filled with an ounce of vodka, four ounces of orange juice, and half an ounce of galliano floated on top. The sixties were a great time of exploration, so here's a signature cocktail! Break up with him, go find yourself, just be honest about what you're doing and realize that you could hurt other people's feelings too. Happy New Year!

Hey Bartender!

I love my boyfriend, but he drinks icky dark beers and porters. I want, as a new years resolution, to make him more health conscious and get him to switch to light beers which aren't as fattening. I guess he's only drinking them to impress his guy friends, but I'm his girlfriend. My opinion should be more important to him, shouldn't it?

The sad truth is that you probably believe that he's drinking dark beer to impress someone, and that you think you can just exchange the dark malty porters for something light. Beer is beer, right? No!

Centuries of brewing have made great progress in the varying tastes of different beers. Your opinion should be important to him, but not if it's based in the land of make-believe and advertisements. Light beers don't taste the same. They aren't even in the same league as regular beers. The endless advertising you've seen about the macrobrew beers (Bud, Coors, Michelob, etc.) has brain washed you into thinking these beers are actually good for you, or actually beers. Macrobrews are made with the cheapest market grain, namely rice or corn, instead of actual brewing grains like barley, wheat, and oats.

Consider it this way: microbreweries who make those dark delicious beers are using real brewing grains to make them, and producing smaller batches with more attention to quality organic ingredients and sustainable business practices. Macro(big)breweries are making beer out of whatever is cheapest that day, which usually is the same material used to fatten up cattle. The proclaimed "light" and "better for you" beers are full of watered down cattle feed, and have a lower alcohol content. The craft brews are stronger, are made with ingredients that wouldn't disgust you, and are more likely to be nutritionally healthier for you. The healthiest beer you could drink from the larger breweries isn't even labeled light, it's Guinness. Guinness is like an anti-oxidant milkshake, with less than 4% abv, and a high iron content.

Your first new years resolution should be to learn a bit before you tell someone else to change their habits. If what you really want is a healthier boyfriend, target his sitting around all the time, or eating all those fried foods late at night because he's drunk. Go for walks to the bar, leave early to go home and make your heart rates surge. Eat less, exercise more. Drink well, and in moderation. You should learn to drink too, and not that crap you wanted him to drink, but some of his dark lovely beers. Try a rogue mocha porter from Oregon, a corsendonk brown or a grotten brown from Belgium, or young's double chocolate stout from England. Dark beer is wonderful, and in moderation, nothing is that bad for you.

Advice Column #12

2008-03-28T14:16:00.000-05:00

Hey Bartender,

I've always been the type of person who pursues what they love. Unfortunately, I find that I often burn myself out while throwing all of my energy into projects and jobs that I care about. Ones that I don't care about bore me and I do not excel in them at all. How do I do things I love without killing myself in the process?

This is the time of year that we spend all our cash, in the name of saving the economy or holiday giving, and are told that giving is the most virtuous thing we can do. Maybe I'm paraphrasing some Plato that I read years and years ago (as any good bartender has a vague recollection of philosophy they've read), but it's a sloppy way to interact with people and the world. There are times when selfishness is indeed virtuous and helpful.

You have to care about yourself more than you care about anything else, or your life becomes dangerous, and not your own.

Whoa! What? Did I just misplace the tender in bartender?

No. I didn't. It's hard to understand, because we think that the more we devote ourselves to our goals, the better the outcome will be, but it's not always so. Without a bit of restraint, we lack the distance to critique our development as people or how our actions are affecting the progress of our goals. Most things in life barely deserve 70% of our effort (a C will pass), and for most things, that's more than we can muster. We aren't over-achievers in every area of our lives, just the ones we think are important. The fatigue such over-achievers suffer from comes from burning themselves out while trying to push 110% in every area. I'm not saying here that you shouldn't try, but instead that there are degrees of trying. Most things need about 70% to make happen, you don't have to be perfect at those things. The new job deserves about 90% for a few weeks, the old job is probably slipping to 80%- get a raise and don't get fired, etc.

The things that really matter: the big goals, the loves, the relationships- we have been too long convinced that we need to destroy ourselves to make these things happen. We need to learn to hold back a part of ourselves. It seems like the wrong thing to do- as Americans we are taught that the harder we try, the better it'll be. In some cases this is true, especially when you have to overcome obstacles, but that 110% comes at a cost. When you toss all of yourself into something, there's nothing left of you to admire what you've done, nothing left to nurse yourself back, nothing left to survive. It is a sloppy way to care about things, and not a way to keep above water. Those who admire the 110% givers are admiring the lost. You have to care enough to succeed, and stop yourself when it hurts. Maybe your goals need 98% of your effort, or maybe you can achieve that goal with 85%. It's not slacking; it's taking a little bit of your life for you.

Don't take this to an extreme. If you don't try and don't make any effort, you're going to be a worthless person to be friends with or do business with. Effort isn't black and white, it's not on or off. You need to find the gray areas where you try a lot, but not with all your might. This finesse will allow you to store some gusto for times when you need a little more than you can muster, or so you can teach yourself to relax. You are not selfish, but you need to learn to be, a little, and a little ruthless about it. You have to learn 90%. You have to learn that you need to hold something back for you, or you'll lose yourself. You have to learn to say no, to the only person you listen to, you.

How? There are many ways to take back some of yourself. Set limits. Schedule time for yourself, for things that aren't your projects or jobs- going out for drinks, or taking a yoga class. Schedule time to decompress; sleep in on the weekend. You know what calms you down, and you need to make sure that there are times when your cell phone is off, your computer is off, and you are having time for you. This is just as important as all the other things that you do to nurture your dreams, because it's nurturing you. Make this your first New Years Resolution: to keep a part of yourself for yourself, and to care about yourself first.

And of course, what do you drink? There's a drink which has become known for all it's extras, all the added junk that never really amounted to a better taste, a drink that needs to be paired down to it's classic form, and appreciated as such. The Daiquiri. Not the frozen mix thirteen fruit and avocado junk daiquiri, but the original classic. This is a drink that has been derived into a thousand forms, but still relies on the stable perfect cocktail that it should be. Don't go buy some mix from the freezer section, or get out those little plastic mermaids that fit on the edge of the glass, just get a shaker and some ice. Pour two ounces of light rum, one ounce of fresh lime juice, and half an ounce of simple syrup into the shaker. Simple syrup, as we all remember, is just sugar and water. Shake vigorously, perhaps to the beat of your favorite song that you're totally singing at the top of your lungs, and pour into the nearest clean glass. This is the daiquiri. This is the part of yourself you need to nurture so that everything you build, everything you add to your life, has a solid stable base to work from. You can spend your time thinking about how this drink was named after a beach and an iron mine near Santiago, Cuba. Your life needs to know how to treat things not just like a beach or an iron mine, but like a perfectly proportioned classic drink. Sip slowly while you think about what every aspect of your life is worth, and how much effort each part really needs.

My Brilliant Brother

2007-12-29T15:22:00.000-05:00

It was a post-xmas miracle! I opened up the local paper, the New York Times, and there was an op-ed piece by my very own older brother!! Yay!! I'm so proud!

Now all of you, go read it and email it to everyone you've ever known.
Besides the awesomeness of it being my brother, it's even awesomer to read what he has to say about sub-prime lending.

You'll be amazed.

The article is here.

Art Show in February!

2007-12-20T08:43:00.000-05:00

Hello.
So yes, last post was disgruntled.
This post is much more positive.
I owe that change of heart to Zeina.

Make plans now,
far in advance.
Come to the show,
bring everyone you know.

Awesome.

Fade Out, Black In

January 31, 2008- March 1, 2008

NY Studio Gallery. 511 West 25th St. #607, between 10th and 11th Avenues NY, NY 10001/Tel. 212.627.3276 / info@nystudiogallery.com

Artists’ Reception: Thursday February 7th, 2007. 6-8pm

Business Hours: Thursday – Saturday, 12 – 6 pm or by appointment

Curated by: Zeina Assaf

Featured artists: Betty Beth Bartholomew, Ronald P. D. Brandt, Christin Couture, Stanislav Ginzburg, Christina Gundersen, Rachel Hyman, Tine Kindermann, Nina Olson

NY Studio Gallery is pleased to present Fade Out, Black In, a group exhibit dealing with the underlying currents of dark nostalgia and distant memory. From childhood fears and adolescent recollections to the tainted past, the works encompass a pitted feeling of loss, self-reflection, and turbulent dreams. While grappling with disturbing images of the past or a twisted take on reality, the artists’ work relates on an emotional level, as well as an aesthetic one.

Fade Out, Black In features mid career and emerging artists who work in media ranging from photography and sculpture to oil painting and mixed media. Exhibiting both locally and nationally at venues like: Deitch Projects, Secret Project, Robot Gallery, The RIDER Project, and St. Ann's Warehouse.

About NY Studio Gallery

NY Studio Gallery combines exhibition and workspace to create an atmosphere of interaction, collaboration and integration of media, styles and artistic genres. The mission of NY Studio Gallery is to provide a community workspace and high-profile exhibition gallery for emerging and mid-career artists whose work challenges viewer’s paradigms.

NY Studio Gallery

511 W. 25th St. #6-07, New York, NY 10001 • 212.627.3276

info@nystudiogallery.com • www.nystudiogallery.com

Gallery Hours: Thu. – Sat: 1 pm – 6 pm & by appointment

Etsy, Art, and the function of dealers. sigh.

2007-12-17T01:44:00.001-05:00

I've been reading my favorite source of internet-time-wasting-while-learning-something the New York Times, instead of playing my fabulous scrabulous games on facebook. It's for the best- scrabulous has begun to invade my subconscious, and is making my boyfriend into a madman.

In the Times' magazine right now, there's an article called handmade 2.0, which I've permalinked for those of you reading this after right now. It's mostly about etsy.com and the o'reilly inspired crafts movement that's been going on for a while now. The article highlights some of the same makers that etsy highlights, and dicusses problems and solutions with marketing and competition among the crafty.

My mom has long been a crafty sort, and after she initially retired about ten years ago, took up making all the things she'd ever dreamed of, with both the excitement and the disappointments that most crafters encounter. Mom makes amazing stuff. She started with pottery, moved on to painting rocks to look like other things, then found mosaics and found object art, and lately has begun to make an increasingly large amount of jewelry.

I've been to some of Mom's craft shows and seen her beautiful artisan works outsold by buckets with sponge-bob-square-pants marker-drawn on them. (The horror that befalls the crafts communities usually is entrenched with the desire of the people who attend such craft events to purchase gross corporate wannabe stuff. ) She had a listing on etsy for a while, and never sold a thing. She had craft fair after craft fair until she began to hate and resent the public and their inability to spot wonderful things, or their reservations about paying decent (if you ask me, below market) prices for art objects she labored intensely on. Lately, she's found a successful venue (finally) for the amazing things she makes: she sells them through a dealer, the Sideshow store at the American Visionary Art Museum in Baltimore.

I hate craft fairs. I don't like most of the handmade things I see. But I love my Mom's work, not because I'm her daughter- but because it's really better than everything else I see being made. There's a lot of crap out there, and some of it sells really well, but there are gems in there too.

She should be the poster-child for something like etsy- but she's not a hipster, and despite the average age of 34 for etsy makers, (mom is a bit older than that) her work just didn't fit into that bird-owl-pirate aesthetic. Good. I like that mom's stuff is beyond these trends, and can't be marketed by type. If anything, she's an example of constant reinvention, of herself, her aesthetic, and her motifs. Her crafts are real art, and she isn't bound by the market that she never really liked anyway- even now when it finally likes her back.

What does all this have to do with the times article? Well, I still don't think etsy is the way to be a successful artist. Wading through internet storefronts is an awful way to go shopping. I hate it with big box stores, and I hate it even more with crafters and artists.

I don't know the way, but as my friend D. was telling me at lunch last week, the only way to be a successful artist is to have an advocate. A dealer. A gallery. A store at the museum. The artist needs someone else to sell it for them, because they need to be left alone to make art. Etsy isn't an advocate, it's somewhere an advocate can lead a buyer to purchase something. There are cheaper places to have things sold. Or you might not need much of a place at all.

I don't have a dealer. I don't have a gallerist pimping my work to their best buyers list. I have dreams of these things, and hope that maybe I'll eventually fall in with the right people and be in some sustainable stable of artists who are nurtured by some amazing circle of collectors. But most of America daydreams about winning the lotto, and this is about as likely. (Oh sad sad jaded 5th year out of art school painter.. where did the idealism go? into the service industry jobs I guess.)

Last week, while finishing up another hopeless grant application for funding for graduate school, I decided to start an imagekind gallery. People have told me that they wish my work was available as cards or posters. This site allows me to upload really high resolution images to it's servers, and have them available for sale at a marginal mark-up of the printing costs, in a variety of sizes. It's a great utility, because anyone who wants to buy a print or poster of any of my work can just click on a button, and it arrives without my having to make prints, store prints, send prints.

This Button above should take you to an image of a painting I sold last year. I have the copyright to the image, even though I've sold the original work. While I might not be able to make or sell enough original images to support myself, perhaps some prints could make things like my upcoming post-baccalaureate program more affordable.

Maybe I'll be lucky enough one day to have a gallery function as my advocate, or make work quickly enough to sell at slashed prices with a 3.5% cut from etsy, but until then- I'll keep the quality up and hope that the prints will sell.

I don't make crafts anyway, I make art. I'm pretty sure (from watching my mom) that the only difference in the terms is a price range. I'm looking to make a life a little better than the (make as many as one person can) not mass-produced art 2.0

Go check out my imagekind gallery at www.rachelhyman.imagekind.com. I'll be putting up a bunch of paintings and drawings in the next few days, and figuring out how to price it right. Let me know what you think.

Advice Column #11

2007-12-04T21:56:00.001-05:00

Hey Bartender!
How drunk is one allowed to get at the company Christmas party? Is there a series of rules, based on your seniority (i.e. assistants can have x, senior management do whatever the hell they want, etc.)? Does one tip the bartenders at such events, if it's a company party? generally if there is a tip cup you do, and if not you don't, as I understand it.

The degree of drunkenness allowed at company Christmas parties is based generally on the pay grades of the drinkers, and the frequency that you see each other drunk. If you never go to happy hours with your co-workers, you probably don't want to get so soused that you try to smooch your boss's secretary. If you get plastered on a general basis with the department head, get the boss an extra cup of punch to spread some holiday cheer. Generally, it's best (and polite) to never become more intoxicated than whomever is throwing the party. Remember that the company Christmas party is a performance. You want to witness the antics of the other characters, and interact positively, but not be the subject of all the drama. You want to show your team that you can relax and be comfortable enough with your co-workers to have a few drinks with them. The less nervous you are about your habits, the more confident you'll be in conversations with the bigwigs. I'd stick to three cups of punch, or two if you're a lightweight. And don't forget to eat some snacks- but lay off the sweets if you don't want a hangover.

As for tipping the bartender- if there's a tip jar, always, if not, you certainly can say, "are we allowed to tip you?". If they say no, then no. If they shrug, then tip. Even if there isn't a tip jar, you should tip graciously. Heck, you aren't picking up the tab anyway, and you did just get that company bonus. Tipping is good for you. If your bosses don't notice your generosity and your good manners, the bartenders will. You'll have some strange glow to you that gets you drinks made well, and faster, than all the other employees. It's best to make these occasions go smoothly, and the bartender can certainly help you out in some socially awkward conversation with the boss's wife and his secretary. Also, make sure you get the interns drunk- the company party is really their night. Ahem, Sinterns.

Hey Bartender!
The holiday season is stressing me out. Whenever I look at the list of people who I have to give presents to, I just want a drink. Can you make some wintry suggestions for how to alleviate this situational and transitory stress? I'm drowning in holiday cheer. Please, I wish that sentence were more literal.

The holiday has lots of cheer, in the cheers variety. My favorite winter beer this year has been the Sprecher Winter Brew. Sprecher is a brewery in Wisconsin which makes awesome beers and sodas. The Winter brew is a dunkel bock with caramel and chocolate notes, delicately balanced with four varieties of hops. It's perfect for a night of gift wrapping, or a night of forgetting about all the holidays. If you want to remember Christmas past, or save some for the ghosts of the future, try the Samichlaus beer from Eggenberg brewery in Austria. Samichlaus is a doppelbock, brewed only once a year on December 6th and left to age for a year before it's release. This beer gets better while you wait, so try to get an older bottle. I've found the ten year old bottles are bit more like brandy, but at 14%, any vintage is a great one. Also, it's a great Christmas present for your bartender, drinking buddies, or anyone you know over 21 who likes things that are awesome.

Other stress relieving winter drinks include (but are never limited to) hot toddies, hot buttered rum, wassail punch, mulled wine, and of course, Eggnog. The argument over recipes for these drinks is a historical battle that has caused more argument and pain than any present you'll buy for your family this year. This week I'll tackle a simple one: the hot buttered rum. A teaspoon of light brown sugar is dissolved with a shot and half of rum, at the bottom of a mug. Half a teaspoon of salted butter (good butter is key here) is dropped towards the rum, then add a little bit of ground cardamon, perhaps a clove or two, and fill the mug up with boiling water. Stir with a cinnamon stick, season to taste. I bet this mug will calm you down, let you toast to the people who you love enough to torture yourself over, and maybe blur away the bad parts of the holiday season.

Perhaps next week I'll explain another wintry drink on the list. I guess it depends on what questions I'm asked.

Advice Column #10

2007-12-03T17:46:00.000-05:00

Hey Bartender!

I currently work several part-time jobs, two of which are in fields I love, at institutions I love. One of them is offering me a full-time job sometime in the next week! The other one is in no position to take me on full-time, so for this and other, less-important reasons I'll be leaving them in the near future. As I said, I love this job and this workplace and I'm sure that leaving them will be upsetting, no matter how great it will be to have a full-time job. With health insurance!

How do I deal with the separation sadness and the feeling that I've betrayed them? How do I get over this feeling of panic over having made a real-live "career decision"? What should we drink for the former co-workers' last hurrah?

Congratulations!! The panic feeling is totally normal- that's the feeling of progress. You haven't betrayed them at all! They should be happy for you and your accomplishments. You can still meet them for happy hour drinks after work, and you'll still know them. Making honest and warm professional connections is much harder than making friends, and arguably more useful in the long run. Right now, you are taking a more stable and better job somewhere else, and feel like you are leaving these co-workers behind. In the future, when you're looking to change jobs again, to hire people you can trust, or are uncertain about your next career move, these connections will be invaluable resources. You will also be a great resource for them. So make sure you set up a way to stay in touch, and actually do it. Join a professional networking site like linked-in or a social one like face book to have access to your former co-workers, and to keep in touch with them. Ask you former boss to write you a letter of recommendation before you go, and submit it to a dossier or letter service at your undergraduate institution. Put them on your holiday card list! Wrap things up pleasantly!

You are right in wondering about what to drink at the co-worker's last hurrah. After all, why end in a whimper when you could choose a bang? You want your co-workers to be left with a great taste in their mouth, and a warm pleasant feeling every time they think of you. Is mulled wine enough? Maybe. But how about some seasonal delights that will be like you are, unforgettable.

Remember, drinks, like careers, are only as wonderful as the ingredients you put in them, and the care you take to make them. So when I say apple cider- go to the farmers market and get some of the real stuff. Don't get any drink product that has high fructose corn syrup in it. Besides tasting saccharine- not sweet- this odd and overly subsidized by-product of corn is bad for you, and will fatten you up like a pig. You're an adult now, with health insurance, and need to take care of yourself. Find the farmers market.

I encourage you to make fireside punch for this transitional time of your life. Fireside punch contains a quart of apple cider, 5-6 lemons, 2 cups of water, 1 cup of sugar, 1 cup of Peach schnapps, 1.5 cups of rum, and one apple. There are variations that can be made, and you can always adjust to taste (some people use equal parts schnapps and rum, you can decide- but I like more rum than schnapps). When I make it, I heat up the water, melt the sugar into it, then add the juice of five to six lemons. At this point, I've made some strong lemonade- do the same. Think about that adage, when life gives you lemons, and how you've taken your part-time jobs that weren't what you expected when you entered the job market, and turned them into a full time job with benefits and a whole list of professional contacts. Many people try to skip the making lemonade step by using frozen concentrate, but it's not as good. By taking shortcuts, they rarely find pleasure in their jobs or the delights of this punch. Into the warm lemonade, add a quart of apple cider. Making the apple cider is a little more labor intensive than the lemonade, so just buy one. Heat mixture to almost a boil. Stir in peach schnapps and some good dark rum. Pour into your punch bowl. Slice up the apple into thin slices, and place them into your punch cups. Serve hot.

For those of your coworkers who like a little more warm belly and a little less citrus, try a whiskey milk punch. Get a bottle of something nice, a jug of non-homogenized milk (you'll taste the creamy difference), a little dish of powdered sugar, and nutmeg or a hazelnut with a fine spice grater. Make these to serve, not in big punch bowl form. Pour 2 ounces of whiskey, 1 tsp of powdered sugar, and 6 ounces of milk into a shaker with cracked ice. Shake, then strain into a glass and sprinkle nutmeg on top, or grate a little bit of hazelnut onto it. Hand it to your old boss and say, thank you for all that you've taught me while I worked here. I hope we can work together in the future. Cheers!

Advice Column #9

2007-12-03T17:44:00.000-05:00

Hey Bartender,

My boyfriend and I recently joined an internet-based swingers network in our area to meet some new girls and/or couples. (Don't worry, this isn't going to be one of those questions. It's strictly about tactful communication). Anyway, many people on these sites don't post pictures of their faces, just their bodies. Often how it works is that you see someone you think you'll like and email with them a bit to make sure you're all on the same page. And then maybe you exchange full-body photos, faces revealed.

So, I wrote to this girl who was hot from the neck down. She wrote me back a sweet email about her interest in hanging out with me and my boyfriend. Then I wrote back and sent some pictures, and she responded in turn with full pictures of herself. After seeing her face I realized there's no way my boyfriend and I could ever be attracted to her. But how do I tell her--sensitively and politely--that I don't think we should meet after all? I don't want to hurt her feelings, especially since I initiated contact in the first place. And I'm sure my reasons for backing out will be obvious--after all, I was all about it until she sent pictures indicating that she's, well, ugly. Help! How do I word my response?

Before I get to the "what to do" or the "what to drink" discussions, let's take a moment for "how did we get here?" It's not my place to tell you or your man how many partners to have at one time, but I wonder about your recruitment methodology. Perhaps shopping for head-less lovers on the Internet isn't the way to go about finding a proper match. Sure, the Internet seems like an easy solution, but is there a group that meets in a big bar somewhere, has a bunch of drinks, and everyone carpools home- certain that they like the face too? I can understand the need for anonymity on a website of that nature, but that same anonymity puts you in situations where you have to gracefully decline an orgy at Sleepy Hollow.

Meanwhile, since you are bravely choosing not to practice the traditional art of blowing people off, let's figure out what you should tell your scorned lover-not-to-be. Notably, I think it attests to your character that you feel the need to give this woman closure, when you don't really have a relationship with her in the real world. As for the email you're going to write, decisiveness and discretion are key in cutting this short as harmlessly as possible. Make up an excuse, "We've been having some problems lately and don't want to bring a third person into our lives right now. " Reassure her, "We were very attracted to you and hope that you understand our decision to not meet with you is entirely about us." Cement the end of the exchange, "Hopefully you'll find another couple who are ready to welcome such a wonderful delight into their lives." The exchange should be five sentences maximum, no mention of the term butter-face, and about your change of heart, not about what caused your change. Your desire to give her a reason is really about your impulse to tell her she's ugly, or not- because you are embarrassed about your own standards. People get turned down all the time, and attraction can't be defined by neck down photos. You really need to find some real-life meet ups, or this situation will become your recurrent nightmare of parlor or bedroom decorum gone wrong.

There's a perfect beer for the night you don't run off like Ichabod when the temptress reveals her pretty face. The Shipyard Pumpkin Ale is a fall seasonal beer from Portland, Maine. It's buttery pumpkin pie taste is full of malt, nutmeg, and cinnamon. The head on this beer doesn't last long, or leave much lace in your glass, but the taste reminds you of those chilly nights when someone else's warmth is all that can warm your bones. Bonus, there's a scary image of a pumpkin-headed horseman riding on the label. Other great pumpkin ales of the season which might better embody the style are the Southern Tier Pumking, the Smuttynose Pumpkin, and the Weyerbacher Imperial Pumpkin ale, which is 8% ABV. If you're lucky, you'll find a great pumpkin on tap at a bar, and some vixen will hit on your boyfriend when you go to order a round. Maybe you can all work something out. Happy Halloween!

where have I been??

2007-11-10T14:32:00.000-05:00

Oh hello there.

Me? Oh, not much. What have you been doing?

Huh. That sounds like a lot of drama.

Yeah, no. Nothing really happening over here. I had a birthday party.

Thanks. Yeah, 27. It was lots of fun.

Oh, ha. A whole bowl of punch. Well, I can still feel young even if I'm looking towards thirty.

This? Yeah, it's a Macbook pro. I got it because I need it for editing photos of my paintings for scholarship applications and a few other applications. Besides, next year I'll be going back and forth from studio to home, and taking notes in class, so I need one. It's really sweet.

Yup. still writing the column.

Oh, yeah, the fantasy football team isn't doing so well. I blame Marvin Harrison and Frank Gore, but really I can only blame myself.

Ninth place. I guess they were right about past performance not reflecting future performance. It worries me about the stock market.

Did you see that all of canada is rich now? I guess they had it coming- good Karma and all. And well, we're not coming back. But my canadian friends are super stoked. It's like all of the US went on 50% sale all the sudden.

Maybe if we get a democratic president. That's our only hope. It's a shred of hope really. The american market is crashing and no one is quite getting it. But it's gonna be a bad one.

Yeah, totally. Hey it was nice catching up.

Totally, I'll post the columns I've written since before. Oh yeah, no word on syndication yet, but my fingers are still crossed. I'll get to posting that all soon.

Ok. You gotta go. Good luck with all that crazy stuff. I'm just working on applications and things, but I'll see you soon.

Oh yeah, I'm definitely still at the bar on thursdays, fridays, and saturdays. Cal Bears game tonight. It's gonna be fun.

*mwah* later.

The "dubious habitability of an unforgiving metropolis"

2007-10-01T14:36:00.001-05:00

I was reading an article in the NY Times about sidewalk cafe's, and the theories of why we'd want to eat curbside, with the smoke, congestion, and cigarette smoke wafting above the dog poo and views of chain stores.

It's true; everyone I know seems to think that eating outside is better. I'm allergic to most things outside, and summer makes me sweat. Eating indoors is something I enjoy, perhaps with a window next to me, or in a booth with squeaky vinyl seats. And I do enjoy eating at restaurants, not on sidewalks.

One of my main complaints about this city is the sidewalks. I look forward to Chicago, which had the forethought to install alleyways for the trash and deliveries. Maybe that makes me provencial. Shut up.

This amazing point was brought up in the article by Frank Bruni:

New Yorkers have a highly evolved, unrivaled knack for glossing over the limitations, absurdities and dubious habitability of an unforgiving metropolis.

They walk into a friend’s 545-square-foot two-bedroom (one bath, no tub) and stammer: “Just $4,965 a month for this?” They walk into the Spotted Pig at 5:55 p.m. on a Tuesday night and exult: “Only a 90-minute wait?”

And they sit in a sidewalk cafe — sirens blaring, vagrants swearing and jackhammers jittering all around them — and sigh: “It’s so relaxing to soak up the street life.”

Absolutely.

That said, the tiny apartment in the east village that we pay way under market for is beginning (or well on it's way) to feel like a shoebox, or a dorm room. I've had bigger dorm rooms than this apartment. I can't wait to live somewhere that has a bathroom all in one room (not a shower in the kitchen and a toilet closet off the "bedroom", which is really just a converted closet).

These rather non-bohemian desires have been highlighted regularly lately. I think my bf's new sadness is merely space related, and causing him to get a cold.

We went to brunch at our friend's in Brooklyn a few weeks ago, and then to see their railroad one bedroom in a borderline-great neighborhood about 30 minutes from manhattan. It was so nice it almost made me weep; much more spacious than our "great deal in the best location", and their place is tiny by all other cities' standards. When I think about the places in Baltimore... oh but how wretched a town that was to live in.

This weekend was the real kicker though. I had been applying to 80/20 housing all over the city last year, when my grad school applications were supposed to be finished and I was procrastinating, or rather, making back-up plans. (I did alright with the grad school in the end, I've been admitted to a post-bacc program at School of the Art Institute of Chicago, which I deferred until next year due to funding issues. If you have any leads on funding, let me know..)
I was put on a few waiting lists, and perhaps my applications were not the most reputable math I've ever done, but I gave it a try, and got on some waiting lists- no harm there.

This weekend I was pulled off a wait list for a sweet apartment in Roosevelt Island. --The only affordable housing that I would say it truly affordable.-- Only, we're moving to Chicago in a few months, and any reasonable human would say- why move only to move again a few months later? -- but the idea crossed our mind, and broke little j's heart when I stomped my foot down-- Because I refuse to move to a bedroom community accessible only by one train, an overhead trolley, and a bridge that goes to queens, not Manhattan. Even if the apartments are big and nice and affordable, and a reasonable space for two adults to co-habitate. If we've lived in this tiny box in this sweet deal by the great favor of a wonderful friend for a year now, we can do it for a few more months. I hate moving.

*Sigh*

I'm going to have to continue to pretend that the tiny diggs we live in, in a neighborhood that hit it's cool-kid prime about 20-40 years ago when my professors lived here in huge light filled lofts for a pittance of rent, now filled with roaches and mice and some other unidentifiables ,is exactly the kind of place that I totally want to pay half my salary to live in, somewhat legally. At least until spring, when hopefully I'll have won some kind of grant, or sold enough paintings, or worked enough extra shifts, to be able to afford to actually attend school again and move to a city where I don't have to step over dog shit and trash bags just to walk down the street.

Maybe the thing that means you should leave New York is when you are no longer willing to pretend that the New York illusion is enough, when you lose that "unrivaled knack for glossing over the limitations" and you proclaim to your hip cool new friends that these mirages of luxury don't actually correspond to anything wonderful--- and that my spine tingles at the idea of having a garage to keep our bicycles and tools in and a closet just for linens. Oh to be able to put a bed on the floor, not in a loft! or even, a dining room!! a dishwasher!! a kitchen counter!! to open a window without smelling that wretched filth of pigeons!!

Even the jail cells in the second season of "the Wire" are looking prime. They remind me of my friend Smoz's apartment across the street. Only they don't cost the inmates nearly a grand a month. And I guess the inmates can't leave either.

Chicago, I look forward to you.

NYC, I'll miss you- but don't expect me back unless I'm egregiously wealthy or willing to commute from distant boroughs.

Ask the Bartender : Advice Column #8

2007-09-23T22:59:00.000-05:00

Hey Bartender!
My girlfriend's a blast when she's drunk. Unfortunately, she's drunk most of the time. I don't drink a lot, but I've started drinking more since I've been seeing her. When she's sober, she's still a nice girl, but nowhere near the firecracker she can be when she's lit. Am I headed for trouble?

It's hard to say what the trouble might be. If she's a raging drunk who can't have social interaction without being wasted, she probably needs help that you can't give her. If you cared about her, you'd encourage her to seek this help, and help her detox. Before you tell your girlfriend that she's an alcoholic (to which she could become rather defensive), try asking her if she would go on a detox with you for two weeks. Tell her that you feel like you've been drinking a lot lately, and want her support by joining you in a two week no-drinking healthy binge. Self-declared "healthy" drinkers do this often. It proves to them that they aren't alcoholics, and gets rid of the build up of toxins in their systems. It's a good litmus to see how alcohol dependent she is, and know how much control she has over her drinking. Often people drink to deal with other problems in their lives, and during detox they have to confront those problems. Detox is a supportive time, where the two of you might get to know each other better and bond as a couple. Perhaps you can learn to see the drunken firecracker in her subtleties, not just her outbursts.

If she drinks socially because she can't "let loose" without the booze, you might want to help her feel better about herself so she felt confident enough to not need the alcohol. Being drunk, in my vast experience both as a drinker and a referee of the wasted, doesn't give you new characteristics, just brings out the ones which you already have. Mean drunks tend to be mean people. Happy drunks tend to hold back their enthusiasm in their sober interactions. Sad drunks rely on the alcohol as a crutch to express or aid their sorrows. It's a great sign that she's a "blast" when she's drunk. Generally, I would take it to mean that her sober "nice girl" routine will blossom into a barrel of fun as she becomes more comfortable with you, and herself. Relationships are about becoming the people you want to be, while learning and supporting each other during this process. If she's dating you, who doesn't drink much, a part of her probably desires to down shift her habits, or she would dump you for the dude who wants to do shots constantly. That guy, let me tell you, isn't going to have a week of rehab until his doctor explains why his kidneys are failing.

Perhaps the problem isn't hers- but yours. If you're bored, then you're boring. Do you tell her that you like her more when she's drunk? I hope not- it won't help make her feel more secure around you. I also hope you don't want to date someone who acts crazy when they are sober- wanting that relationship is less healthy than being a raging drunk. You should be so happy that she's nice when she isn't drinking, and a blast when she is. This girl sounds rad to me. It's unlikely you're going to find a firecracker that doesn't drink.

I think the real problem here isn't her drinking. It's that you feel upstaged by how awesome she is when she's drinking, and how nice she is when she isn't. That sweet combo could scare the pants off any boy, and make them try to find problems with the cool girl. I suspect she's not an alcoholic, and will detox and talk your ear off about why she drinks and why she likes you. You better come up with some replies that don't have to do with wasted table dancing. Exciting is nice, but nice is much more exciting.

When the detox is over, and you're convinced that she's the coolest girl in the world. First drink back, order yourself a sidecar. Yes, you are the boy in the sidecar to the cool girl who you admire and adore. This drink was designed to warm your bones and give a pre-dinner tartness. Make sure you get high shelf ingredients, because cutting corners wrecks the drink. Pour two ounces of brandy, one ounce of cointreau, and half an ounce of lemon juice into a shaker with ice, shake, and strain into a cocktail glass. Be proud of how fun your girlfriend is, because enjoying your time with her is what matters the most.

Hey Bartender!

One of my friends is currently dating a nerdy/arty guy who just left for Ecuador for the week. He wrote a short email that basically just said "hey, going to Ecuador, see you when i get back." She's flipping out cause she thinks it's over - the kicker is that they've only been on two dates. She's obviously over-reacting, but what should she drink?

You're totally right; she is over-reacting. She needs to play it cool and wait for him to call her when he returns. She's making up drama where there is none. Instead of talking herself into a terrible emotional state, put something complicated in her mouth- order her a tailspin. It's a cocktail full of flavors that she can think about instead of dooming her budding relationship with this adventurer. The best recipe I've found for this drink comes from drinkboy.com: 3/4 ounce Gin, 3/4 ounce Sweet Vermouth, 3/4 ounce Green Chartreuse, and a dash of Campari. Stirred with ice then strained into a glass to be garnished with a lemon peel and a cherry. Some other people use a dash of orange bitters in place of the Campari- most bars don't stock a variety of bitters though, and the Campari works like a charm. This drink should send a little shiver of pause down your friend's spine. Try to get her to think about something else, and let this boy either happen or not, on his own timeline or terms.

Nerdy art boys tend to need a little space in the beginning. She might want to send him an email while he's down there, to pick her up a bottle of Aguardiente, or fire-water, a sugar cane derived liquor well loved in that part of the world which is used to make several sweet, cinnamon rich drinks. It's bound to guarentee a third date, where he tells her excitedly about his travels, and how he was thinking of her too.

Ask the Bartender : Advice Column #7

2007-09-23T22:58:00.000-05:00

(sorry I forgot to repost this for so long...)

Hey Bartender!
I've recently taken a new job at a new company, and I'm in the process of training my replacement. He's a very nice guy, but the more I work with him, the more I think he might not actually be able to do the job. His experience seems lacking in some pretty critical areas, and I'm afraid that things might not run so smoothly here once I leave.
Should I say anything to the upper supervisors, or just let it work itself out?

Did you just say you quit this job? I think you did. You need to let go of the feelings you attach to this place. That new guy- he'll sink or swim, and those supervisors- they hired him. You? You are on your way out, and should let it go. If the new guy can't hack it when you're gone, the company will figure it out. Maybe he needs some time to adjust, or is really nervous around you. No need to talk badly about someone who isn't going to cause you any harm. It sounds less like concern and more like second thoughts about leaving- look forward, and know that you'll be missed.

You need a relaxing drink to cheers to a happy new job, where the worries of your old job are far away. I'm suggesting a nice glass of Pimm's and Lemonade, garnished with a cucumber. Pimm's is a liqueur from England, a country who knows when to get in, and how to get out. It's a relaxing end of summer drink, from one of those bottles not appreciated enough at the back of the bar. If they hired someone who is that lacking, maybe they didn't appreciate all the things you did either. Cheers the second round to the new job, and all the excitement they feel about hiring you! You're worth it, and so is this delightful drink. Extra cucumber slices are for laying on your closed eyelids, while you relax.

Hey Bartender!
I just started dating this guy who is wonderful in so many ways. We have a lot of the same interests and we have a great time together. He's intelligent, sensitive, hilariously funny, and he treats me like a queen. However, I am slowly discovering that he is TERRIBLE with his finances. He doesn't have a credit card (not even for emergencies), nor does he have a savings account as far as I can tell, and he lives in a huge apartment that he definitely can't afford on his salary. I'm not materialistic in the least, but I do try to plan for the future. What can I do to make this relationship work in the long run?

Most people are really touchy about their finances, especially people who don't know what they're doing. Wait until you get to the long run to breech this subject, maybe there are things he's not telling you about his situation. If you aren't materialistic, you'll enjoy the good time and have fun with this amazing guy. Don't worry about his credit score until you worry about merging it with yours.

In the long run, if you find out there is no secret trust fund or amazing investments from his youth, here are some practical strategies.

1. Refer him to a credit card that you have and enjoy. Citibank rewards cards, like many cards, give you rewards points bonuses for referring new clients. Even if he doesn't want a credit card, you can argue that you want more rewards points - and then tell him about how useful it is to have a card for emergencies. Make sure you tell him not to max it out every month, and to pay the balance in full every month if he uses it for not-emergencies.

2. Refer him to an on-line savings account. Many of these institutions will transfer easily between your savings account and his already existing checking account, and have auto-withdraw functions to make savings a less thoughtful process. ING Direct will also give you a bonus for referring a friend, and give them a bonus too!

3. You are only allowed to be critical of some one's waste of money on rent when they can't pay it, or when you're paying it. When things progress to the level that you two move in together, then you can find a place which you think is cheaper for both of you, and in your budgets. Until then, sleep over his place and enjoy the decadence.

It sounds like he's not racking up debt, and trying to enjoy his life right now, with you. So while you're enjoying his lavish spending, I'd suggest you order a Southside.

This gin cocktail speaks of class well beyond the many famed stories of its origin. Pour 2 oz of gin, a muddle of mint leaves and half a lime, and some simple syrup into a shaker. Shake out the frustration of men who can't manage their books, who resemble lemons in the category of finance. Make sure the mint leaves bruise, but his ego doesn't. Pour it into a glass : a martini glass if you think the drink comes from the Southside Hunting Club in long island, a chilled Collins glass if you think it came from the famous 21 club, or a low ball glass if you believe, like many do, that great things come from poor people in terrible times- and that this drink came from Chicago gangsters who knew their rot-gut gin needed a refreshing introduction to the palate. Like this drink, we can't tell where your man came from or where he's going to end up, but we can enjoy it while the glass is half full (with a sprig of mint), and worry about the rest when the tab arrives.

Fantasy, well done.

2007-09-23T22:45:00.000-05:00

The bartender who thought I was going to lose the league can eat his words, because after tonight's performance I will be in third place. Having won all three of the match-ups so far this season, my little fantasy team (who have seen a few men lost and found over the last two weeks, including the defense) is doing quite well.

Perhaps this has taken little to no effort on my part, and a bit of sideline coaching from our league commish and my ever-interested step-dad, but I feel a sense of accomplishment from the actions of others. Does this make me bourgeois? less bohemian? less intellectual?

Whatever- sports is more relevant to our silly little culture than most of the avant-guarde in this city. And I like the tight pants- so do you, hipster.

How about that Canadian dollar, eh?

This week:

QB	Tony Romo (Dal - QB)	@Chi	W, 34-10	22.45
WR	Marvin Harrison (Ind - WR)	@Hou	W, 30-24	5.30
WR	Deion Branch (Sea - WR)	Cin	W, 24-21	13.70
WR	Chris Chambers (Mia - WR)	@NYJ	L, 31-28	10.10
RB	Frank Gore (SF - RB)	@Pit	L, 37-16	5.10
RB	Marshawn Lynch (Buf - RB)	@NE	L, 38-7	14.00
TE	Alge Crumpler (Atl - TE)	Car	L, 27-20	12.30
W/R	Brandon Marshall (Den - WR)	Jac	L, 23-14	13.30
K	Jeff Wilkins (StL - K)	@TB	L, 24-3	3.00
DEF	Indianapolis (Ind - DEF)	@Hou	W, 30-24	7.00
Total				106.25

Fantasy football? um, yeah.

2007-09-06T11:06:00.000-05:00

So for those of you who are keeping track of my recent forays into pop culture, you might have noticed that I joined the fantasy football league at the bar.

Despite the jarring remarks from the bartender who is winning the fantasy baseball league, and proclaims my imminent defeat in the football league, I think I have a decent team.

The draft was like taking an exam for a class I never took. But the five hours of cramming didn't kill me, and I kinda knew what I was doing for a while. Certainly whenever I figured out who I wanted next, someone else picked him before it was my turn.

For you pro's who want to give me some advice, here's my rooster. I was draft pick six.
Otherwise, watch and learn.

Pos. Rd. player nfl team

QB 4 Tony Romo Dallas

RB 1 Frank Gore SF
RB 3 Marshawn Lynch Buf *he was on the cal bears last year, and I trust him to win
RB 10 Brandon Jackson GB *at this point I needed players without a bye on wk.6
RB 14 Garrett Wolfe CHI *and I needed atleast one bear.

WR 2 Marvin Harrison IND
WR 5 Deion Branch SEA
WR 6 Chris Chambers Miami
WR 4 Brandon Marshall DEN *he's my best pick for a sleeper
WR 13 Eric Moulds Tenn *this was a rash pick, and likely to be traded soon
WR 15 Troy Williams Minn *I was tired by now.

TE 7 Alge Crumpler ATL *Dirty south, and what a name, and stats to boot!
TE 12 Owen Daniels Hou

K 9 Jeff Wilkins STL

And my defense is currently the cowboys, who I picked last. The peer value ratio didn't differ much when I was digging out defenses. I'm not too worried, I can change them out if I need to.

blue plate special.

2007-09-04T13:49:00.000-05:00

Labor day I woke up hungry. Never the fool, I went to via della pace for brunch, on the corner of 7th street and 2nd ave.
Who did I see there?
James Van der Beek from Dawson's creek.

Mostly my bf was just annoyed that I pulled my phone out during brunch. Whatever.
If you're gonna live in nyc, you're not gonna care about seeing celebs, but if you write a blog, you are.
bamn.

A short recap on the last few weeks

2007-08-08T23:18:00.001-05:00

For those of you who still read this because you wonder about me, not the fake ID's or the advice columns- though I should hope you like those too, because they're both funny- here's a bit about what's been going on:

There have been visitors.

A long lost friend from china, returned with his lovely girlfriend to declare that he's not a spy, but does miss the beer. I definitely didn't get enough time in on this trip, but hopefully there will be more trips.

My oldest friend and her husband came to town, like a grounding stone of my youth, reminding me what I should expect from people, because the ones I truly love tend to deliver.

Someone invited some personal demons into my safe place. - I'm not over reacting, just reacting, and not pandering to unapologetic and patronizing excuses.

My therapist (having one is normal for new yorkers, so don't freak out if you're not from around here) left town, making everything a little bit harder.

My phone died. Kapow. For no reason. I got a blackberry and have been trying to make the little box work all day, instead ended up playing bricks- some souped up version of my favorite game, arcanoid. oh arcanoid, I missed you too.

I've been studying for my food protection certification exam. Which means cleaning the kitchen with bleach a lot, and memorizing the names of disgusting bacteria that can be in the food of any kitchen. Sure, this is TOTALLY necessary for bartenders- not just a ploy for the health department to make a few hundred bucks off us. gross. It's curbing my "try new restaurants" feeling.

My painting is still at Apex art (see post below) and the bidding is up to $90. Feel free to check it out online here, and bid on it. (It's about 1100 under what I sell them for, so go at it.)

Someone called me who saw the work at the show and wanted to see more work. But due to some rain and I guess busy?, he hasn't arrived as promised. I'm holding out hope on this one, and J is stoked that I cleaned the apartment.

A good friend of mine decided to leave the downtown performance art culture (of which he was king) to become a ranch hand in texas. It's not as surprising as it sounds; he's good with guns, ropes, and gross things- he'll be great at it, but I'll miss him.

Another friend finished his summer "I'm 27 but somehow still an" internship, and will be departing back to california. Sadness at happy hour on that one.

I continue to be in the endless negotiating of assigning my bklyn lease. Fingers crossed.

J has become the supreme ultimate producer of many shapes, sizes, and varieties of ice. oh, we got ice. Our drinks are cold.

I've been watching a lot of TV. Highlights include: SHARK WEEK!, an hour long special on wolverines in finland near russia, my dark love-army wives, endless repeats of startrek tng, some movies off ifc, and love it but never leave it- hours of random lifetime television. oh my demise.

Perhaps when september comes, my sanity will return. one can only hope.
Til then, I'll be at the bar. Or home, basking in the cold with my friend Mr. Icebox, aka, the air conditioner.

Ask the Bartender : Advice Column #6

2007-08-08T23:13:00.000-05:00

(the last column was split in half and used for two different weeks, so this one is number 6. Fancy that!)

Hey Bartender!

Recently I moved to a city where my long distance lover lives. I was planning on moving here before we got involved, so I don't feel at all strange about the move. Soon (days) after moving to this lovely little town, we went hiking - I fell and fractured my tail bone. Since fracturing my tail bone I've been totally shacked up with my lover and it's basically like we're living together even though I have a house of my own here. Do you think this bizarre long stretch of no-sex but lots of togetherness is gonna have any long term repercussions on the relationship? We hadn't intended on living together so soon, or before I had established myself in this town and found my own life here.

Sorry to hear about your butt.

Long distance relationships are a certain type of high maintenance love, and physically dependent relationships are another. There's transition to consider. How does he react to your needing him? How does it make you feel to need him? If you've maintained a long distance affair, and assert that you didn't move there for him, I can only infer that you are both very independent, perhaps stubbornly so. You want to make sure that this situation heals stronger than your bones, and doesn't become a permanent dynamic. I would have three concerns about the future of your relationship based upon your busted bones and this current shacked up situation. Also, I have three beer suggestions for your woes.

First, does he feel like you're invading his space, life, and apartment? Often when some one's lover moves to town, they both need some space to let their relationship adjust. This is a lot for both of you to handle- you didn't just come to town- an accident made him your nurse too. Catastrophic! You should watch out for signs of him needing alone time, or finding little things to be annoyed by. If you both decided not to live together, stick to that plan. If you can go back to your house for a few days at a time, do it. He can come over if you need him to. You should move in with each other out of delight, not necessity.

For the initial congestion and confusion, I recommend a glass of Monk's Flemish Sour Red Ale. Some love it, some hate it, but it'll make your mouth pucker in the most throat warming way. It's contract brewed by van Steenberge in Belgium for Monk's cafe in Philly; the Old Bruin style Flemish is available occasionally for retail. Sours use a strain of bacteria to make an oaky-fruit taste that makes your mouth water. It goes against most brewing sense to let any bacteria into a beer - just like letting your lover move in without getting it on goes against common sense- but when done right, it's a delicious brew that your tongue will lust after.

Second, you must be freaking out to have come all this way and be hobbled by a hiking accident! Embrace your own feelings of dismay too! Don't jump ship and move back home, or make an unbreakable pattern of being needy- but remember how independent you were! All the other things you moved to that town for - keep those goals in mind. It sucks to be ready to start your life somewhere a feel a lack of agency. That frustration cannot be ignored, or it'll paint the future of your relationship with hostility.

For this sequence of disaster, I'm recommending Heavy Sea's Loose Canon IPA from Clipper City brewing company in Baltimore, MD. Why? You need something bitter to ground you, something strong to heal you, and a bit of alcohol to knock the edge off the pain. Loose canon is triple hopped, 7.25%, and the smell alone will smack you out of self pity and into action.

Third, if your love becomes a caretaker scenario, you might lose some vital sparks. (No, that was NOT a lead in to sparks soda, which I would never suggest.) Intimacy isn't about sex alone. Find ways to remind him that you are his lover, not his ward. Remember all those long nights on the phone from far away? Keep up the talk that made you want to move there. Maybe you can't booty shake for a while, but you can get your life started. And it's nice that he's there to help you. If he's worth it, he'll be supportive. You're worth the wait.

While you're waiting, I'm going to recommend the sweetest drunk I know, a little lady called Tripel Karmeliet. Split a small magnum of this three grain Belgian golden;your skin will tingle, eyes glisten, and heart throb. It has an aftertaste of vanilla - good for the smooching- and for keeping your heart healthier than that shattered butt of yours. He'll be too drunk to make it happen even if you could, but you'll both get that cooing happy delirium where you just want to declare your love over and over again.

Hey Bartender!

I've been involved in a poly-amorous relationship with my boyfriend for a long while. In this time, he's never violated the boundaries of our relationship, and the women he's been with have also been poly, so there's never been a problem. Recently he's started dating a woman who is monogamous. Obviously he isn't. This doesn't violate our relationship at all, but as their relationship gets more serious, I worry that he's terribly violating their relationship by being with me. Should I say something on her behalf to him? Should I do something? What, most importantly, should I be drinking? How about a round for all the love triangle?

I must say that at best, I've only see poly-relationships claim an ideal, and hurt people's feelings. But generally, I can't say much more about monogamous lovers. Let's make this answer quick, as I hear last call ringing in the final round. He hasn't violated the terms of your relationship yet because your terms are so loose that he can't violate them. Now he's found the one way to wreck the good thing you have going, by finding someone who can't share, and trying to push her into a sharing situation. Who knows what he's attempting to pull off here. Not me, not you, not her. The bottom of any glass will not give you the answers you need, but I'd say this dude isn't worth the contemplation.

He gets a tall glass of ice water, and that's me being nice. He needs to learn to love well, not plentifully. You shouldn't be made to feel like the thing gone wrong- he is. What is he thinking? Water. With ICE. And you have every right to talk to her, buy her a drink, see what she wants. This involves you too.

She gets a glass of Weyerbacher's blithering idiot barley wine, straight from Easton, PA. She's a fool not to see this coming, and perhaps a drunken evening with a 11 percent malty barley wine will do her well. If she decides this dude is worth the heartbreak (they never are, honey), and she thinks she can make him into a one-girl man, here's a strong one. Good luck. I hope this beer isn't the most sophisticated thing in her life, but I'm going to bet it will be.

You? You - who are concerned about the feelings of the woman who may steal away the man you spent years loving? The house owes you a round. I want you to pick a champagne cocktail. Something that will toast to the dawn of a new day, a man who will respect the limits of love and of his lovers, and a sweetness to claim every morning after.
Choose something simple though, like a Bellini -champagne and peach puree- two ingredients who work well together, and taste like happiness unfettered by rules, formulas, or recipes for disaster.

Fake ID confiscation #10

2007-07-21T12:11:00.000-05:00

Yesterday in the metro newspaper, there was fine review of the castle, which declared that the old regime of monks had been replaced by their cooler counterparts.

Immediately, there were hordes of barely old enough to drink kids scratching their heads at the beer selection and handing me their ID's with their back-up photo ID's from where ever their internship is this summer.

One kid had someone else's real ID, which didn't look like him. After throwing down credit cards with the same name and a really really long and detailed description of jaw surgery, I let him take the card back. There - there's a victory for all of you who think I shouldn't take the fakes away. You get one. I had doubts.

Most of the kids who were underage simply claimed to have "forgotten" their ids. Not this one; not Rossy here. He did whine for it back - and at an inopportune moment - he was standing next to my boss who shot him the most appalled look. He claimed he was from out of town, and wouldn't use it, and would tear it up. Really. pleeese?

Nope.

But I was a little sad, this wasn't the sweetest ID to crown number ten in the collection. I already have this model. * sigh*

Also, though I don't think this kid was dumb enough to put his real name on the card, I hope when he grows up, he can become more like the awesome fisherman in new zealand who does have this carefully chosen name.

This guy:
When Ross caught this 10.04 kg snapper, it was reported that the sea conditions were flat with drizzly rain, and that squid was used as bait.

Let's hope the humidity breaks here too.

Ask the Bartender : Advice Column #4, #5

2007-07-12T13:30:00.000-05:00

Hey Bartender,

About five months ago, I experienced very, very horrible break up with my first serious boyfriend of two years. Having been the one to break up the relationship, I met much resistance and was told (by him) that it might very likely be too hard for him to ever speak to me again. I have since started dating a man who I am very in love with, and we have a fulfilling, healthy, and happy relationship.

All I want is to have an honest conversation at some point with my ex when we both feel ready, in order to share perspective, make peace and salvage something of a friendship. I really do feel that we would be much better as friends than a couple, and would like to feel like he is still in my life, even if on the periphery, but he has to want the same thing, and I fear he will not be able to help make this happen. I know that I need to be patient, but what if so much time passes that it no longer feels important to him to reconnect? Somehow I feel it is important to get past the hurt, and that the longer I wait, the harder it will be to get past it, the easier simply to just accept the idea that we will never try to make some kind of peace. And I wonder if I am going to be more hurt for hoping and waiting, though I have no other choice, except to expect the worst.

You have to make peace with yourself, not with him. Sometimes when love ends, it's best to grieve the people we were, as well as the relationship that is over. You will never be the woman who dated him again; you are a new you now, who is wiser and more experienced than you were before. You can make choices besides being hurt. He might not want to reinvent how you two know each other, and he may never be ready to be friends with you. That's his choice, not yours. If you are open to the possibility of having him on the periphery, or even closer, in your circle of friends, that's all you can do. He has to decide to want that, or not. You also get the power of choosing to be in his life or not, but only if he lets you. Until then, you need to live your life without him in it. This is not a worst case scenario , it's just a path. There will be many people in your life, lovers and friends. These people may appear and leave and return in your life, but you have to change constantly, in relation to them, and regardless of them.

Closure is often a thing you must find alone. The hurt you fear in the waiting and hoping for him to come back to your life platonically, the "expecting the worst" that you anticipate in his not wanting to be friends, these feelings are about you. For him, it seems OK to leave things as they are now, some what unresolved, less worked out than you would like. Unless he comes to a place where he wants more resolution, the honest conversation that you want to have with him may never happen, but until then, you can have that conversation with yourself. You can live with the lessons you learned from that relationship, even if you live without learning anything else from him. And who were you when you met him? How has that woman changed? Who are you now, without him, past him, on to the next?

Some lovers become friends, some lovers become legends of our pasts, and some lovers become nothing at all. These are the sultry murmurings of old men at drowsy bars. Drink like they do. Give that pain a soak in some strong spirits, not for a life long habit - just for a little while. Find a dive that has Nina Simone in the jukebox, bury your quarters with her name. Locate the best spotlit seat at the bar and take it. Drink the best sherry or brandy in the house, hum along with the music. Having little holes burnt in your heart where old portraits stare through the shadows is what makes a life well lived. This is how your soul grows old, and how the music and the strong drinks, begin to make sense.

Hey Bartender,

My brother has been dating his girlfriend for about 4 years. He loves her dearly. She is intelligent and sweet, and committed to him. He is a very rambunctious and funny guy, and she is very quiet, but they compliment each other well.

They have been living in different cities for more than one year. However, my brother's girlfriend will be moving to the city where he lives this coming fall. She will be starting graduate school there. She did not choose the school because of my brother, necessarily, but they both consider the opportunity to live in the same city a chance to take a step forward in their relationship.

This last weekend, my brother's best friend from high school visited him. She is hilarious, beautiful, and very energetic. Throughout the years they have bonded through their similar senses of humor and interests. My brother expressed to me that having his old best friend around has led him to question his relationship with his girlfriend. He asked for my advice. I find that his best friend from high school is a much better fit for his personality than his current girlfriend. However, I also see the value in a committed relationship, and can imagine that he could also be happy with someone like his current girlfriend. I don't want him to decide to spend his life with someone boring just because it is safe. How should I approach advising him on the situation?

Comparing your loyal, smart, and intelligent girlfriend to another girl, is never a way to feel safe in a relationship, and not a nice way to treat your lover. His conflict is not about her failings, but about his doubts. Is he afraid of the relationship moving to the next level? Is he not really in love with her? Is he afraid to settle down with a committed partner? Does he want to see other women? These are questions that only he can answer, and presenting them to her without answers will unsettle, and likely, scare her. She's taking a big risk by moving to a new city for him. He should begin by making her feel safe in his city.

Sure, it could be a gruesome scene if she moves to a city for him (even if she claims it's for grad school) and it doesn't work out. But let's not set the scene for the greatest amount of tragedy. Relationships are strengthened when the two people identify problems between them and work through those challenges. If the problems are insurmountable, then the relationship will fail, but ideally- both individuals will learn and grow within the partnership. It's easy to question the foundation of your love when your lover is far away- distance creates doubts. After four years, I think we both know that the current girlfriend deserves his effort to make their relationship work.

Listen, he should try not to worry about it. Either she'll come to town, and after a period of adjustment he'll be really happy with her finally around. Or he won't. He won't be able to break up with her until he's really ready, and when he is, he won't be able to stop himself. Meanwhile, he should try to reconnect with his long distance love, and make her feel welcome as she adjusts her life to nestle better into his. Perhaps, when all the anticipation is over, she's exactly what he's looking for. After all, four years is a long time to wait for someone just to break up with them when they finally arrive.

As for the high school friend, if she were such a perfect fit, she would have won his heart long ago. Something about the two of them doesn't add up, or it would have already happened. Maybe she doesn't want him, or there's some part of her that he couldn't stand to date. Either way, if she's so perfect for him, eventually nothing else will work out, and they'll find each other then. No reason to wreck his life in the meantime, and no reason to let her cause anxiety about someone who he already loves.

To advise him, you need a round of something refreshing. You need a beer that's poured, and then you still have to wait for it. Duvel - a Belgian beer, served in an amazing tulip glass, nearly half full of head that resembles whipped cream. The label reads, to be poured without haste. A perfect pour of this bottle requires a few minutes of admiration, a little distance, and a willingness to taste the aromatic foam above the beer before you get a true sip of the fine Belgian golden ale. A slight aroma of bananas lingers in the head; you'll taste the sweetness of the beer blended with the spicy but mild hops, then, a delicate and flowery finish. Buy your brother's girlfriend a six-pack of this beer when she gets to town, it can last at least three years in the bottle. Hopefully, despite all his doubts, they can last longer, and be happier than any drink could make them.

Ask the Bartender : Advice Column #3

2007-07-09T14:35:00.000-05:00

Hey Bartender!
Once upon a time, I prided myself on being a girl that could hang with the guys - chugging beer, eating late night greasy food, and otherwise being awesome. However, I've recently decided to treat my body more nicely and have cut back on all of the above activities. My friends seem to take it personally that I don't indulge in their lifestyle anymore, but I just want to be coherent more hours of the day. Is that really so much to ask for? How do I keep their friendship and my new-found good health?

First, don't cut back on being awesome. Drinks and greasy food have nothing to do with your awesomeness. Your friends probably aren't "taking it personally" because you don't want to pound pints, but because you aren't spending as much time with them. There are two obvious ways to improve this situation. You can include them in your life more, or include your new self in their activities.

As a bartender, I do a lot of socializing in the afternoon or on off-nights. Brunch is a wonderful meal to share with your binge-drinker friends. The pressure is off, so you can drink your coffee while they order up another Bloody Mary. Try to leave your judgements of their lifestyle at the coat check; if you want them to respect your choices, you have to do the same. You can drench them in your exciting new plans for hiking under the stars and stories about the yoga class that took over your early-start Thursdays. Let them brag about their drunken escapades over pancakes without dragging you into an uncomfortable scene. You can have the quality time they (and you) miss, without feeling like you aren't allowed to grow.

If they just can't get out of bed before three, and whine about not meeting you at the old drinking hole, think about being awesome without falling into old patterns. Take up playing darts or pool, use your 'athletic' prowess as an excuse to drink seltzer and orange juice with a dash of Rose's lime. I knew a sober girl who used to shark the table in one of my favorite haunts; she politely refused when hotties tried to buy her a drink, and had a blast playing pool and trash talking to all her drunken friends. Being sober in a bar doesn't make you the enemy, it teaches you how to have fun without relying on a bender.

Have some patience with your drinking buddies. Change is hard, and people who spend all their time in bars tend to be a little weak on making changes in their lives. Just because you retired your beer mug, doesn't mean that they should have to make the same choice. You can still be the awesome girl who hangs with the dudes- all their beer guts aren't going to help them win the afternoon soccer match you challenge them to, their slurred words are never gonna beat your clever quips over a darts match, and maybe they could try to join you in your new activities. You should invite them.

Hey Bartender!
I'm finished college, and have my first real job. I'm having some people over for my first summer barbecue. Most of these people are new friends from work and my post-graduate life, and of course, my work crush. I don't want to say I've grown out of the cheap beers from my college days, but I have a little more expendable income in my life and I want to impress my co-workers (and the crush) at this happening. What drinks do you suggest for the summer party atmosphere, beer and otherwise?

Ah, the debutant ball of the corporate office- the summer barbecue. And the budding office romance?-how perfect! You might want to ask the crush out for a happy hour drink, so you can take note of his or her order, and stock it for the party- even if they don't say anything, they'll note it- and you'll score major "thinking about you" points. You are going to need some great summer beers, and a really great punch as a signature drink for the event.

Allagash Brewery in Maine makes an amazing classic Belgian style wheat, Allagash White. It's like a Hoegarten, but better, and made by a great domestic micro-brewery. Oranges are the appropriate garnish for a wheat beer, so have some around. Another great Maine summer wheat is the fruity Sea Dog Bluepaw Blueberry wheat beer. Everyone doesn't love the wheats, so pick up a sixer of Dogfish Head Aprihop, and for the begrudging few who want something lite and crisp, pick up some Gaffel kolsch. Kolsch beers are sadly overlooked by American audiences, but are light and easy on the palette. Stay strong on refusing to supply Macro-brew light beers - they taste awful and your friends deserve better. Insist people try something new and better.

I'll never understand why, but some people don't like beer. For those lagging behind the micro-brew revolution, you should mix up a bowl of Fish House Punch, a drink adored by George Washington at the State in Schuylkill Fishing Club during the American Revolution. This angling club was established in 1732, near Philadelphia, and claims the origin of a perfect punch. Don't worry, it doesn't taste like fish. There are many variations on this recipe, so don't be scared if you get a little bit sloppy with your pours. Remember that a punch is never better than the quality of its ingredients, so buy high shelf liquor and fresh fruits. You might want to double the recipe if your guest list is ample.

1 cup sugar (Rumor argues for brown sugar)
3 1/2 cups water (Include a large block of ice into this count)
1 1/2 cups fresh lemon juice (6 to 8 lemons), strained
1 (750-ml) bottle Jamaican amber rum (Appleton's rum is preferred)
12 oz Cognac (1 1/2 cups) (The best punch has Courvousier VSOP Cognac)
2 oz peach brandy (1/4 cup)
2 ripe peaches, sliced

The night before your amazing event, make a block of ice. Use a piece of flexible Tupperware to get the square shape- anything glass will break if you freeze water in it, so don't use your brownie pan. Leave the ice in the freezer until you're ready to serve the punch. It'll need about 8 hours to fully freeze.
Hours before your guests are even thinking about heading over, dissolve the sugar into the lemon juice. Mix it around a bit, then add the liquors and
one and a half cups of water. Some recipes use sparkling water instead of plain water- this choice is yours. Once, a friend of mine substituted some champagne for the sparkling water, making a strong but delectable variation.
Taste the punch as you're making it to see if you'd like a little more of one thing or another. It's your punch, your party.
Let the punch mellow in your fridge, stirring the mix once an hour until right before your company arrives.
When it's time to serve the batch, add your block of ice and sliced fresh ripe peaches. Serve in small glasses.

See my work in Apex Art's most curated biennial of the summer!

2007-07-07T12:01:00.001-05:00

To all who may be in New York and reading this blog:
Tonight you have the rare opportunity to see one of my paintings hanging in a gallery. Let's go!
(see ad below)
There's an auction for the work (it's a benefit show) and you can even bid on the works after 6pm at http://www.apexart.org/biennial/
I encourage you to do so.
<- that's my painting. It's 8 inches by 10 inches, acrylic on collage with gold leaf on the edges, and titled, Gastronomic Landscape, USA #1





	apexart is pleased to present The Most Curatorial Biennial of the Universe in response to two major social issues of our time: biennialessness and poverty. Through an open call to curators and artists, nearly 600 people are now "with biennial." All works are available for donation and will provide the Robin Hood Foundation of NYC with additional funds to do more good for the disadvantaged of the city (no funds go to apexart). Works can be seen and bid on at www.apexart.org/biennial/. We want to thank everyone involved for an exciting and extremely varied exhibition. Join us for the opening reception on Saturday, July 7, 6-8 pm - make a virtual visit via live webstream at http://www.ustream.tv/channel/apexarttv. For more information: The Most Curatorial Biennial of the Universe; exhibition runs through August 11.

	Please join us. All events are open to the public and free. apexart 291 Church Street, NYC, 10013 t. 212 431 5270 www.apexart.org Directions: A, C, E, N, R, Q, 6, J, W, M, Z to Canal and 1 to Franklin.

Bart Simpson

2007-07-06T14:29:00.000-05:00

Nothing exciting has been happening at either bar, or really in my life the last few weeks. But in the lulls in conversation, and amist my own workspace boredom, I hand people a pen and a napkin and say, "You know what Bart Simpson looks like right?" to which all reply, "Of course."
"Then draw him for me."
This has been a rather fun game. Here are some spoils.
A few of these were drawn by professional comics, so maybe they shouldn't count. They were at the bar though, so it's fair game.

low brow

2007-06-25T23:52:00.000-05:00

Saturday night at the sports bar, a regular from another season came in a bit tipsy. (The sports bar has about ten sets of regulars, who are led by the seasonal cycles of their teams' schedules.) She had been at the A's game, which to many New Yorker's was known as the Mets game.

The lesson she had learned, with several other Californian transplants in Shea Stadium, was a use of language.

"Maybe" she said, "is a word that can be used in new york like no where else. I can use it to emphasize hating the exact thing that I'm proposing." She described how the eight dudes from Brooklyn in the row in front of her all night long had explored the possibilities of the word maybe.

Their usage:
"Maybe the A's got a hit. Maybe you can go f*ck yourself."

Her usage:
"Maybe the Mets won. Maybe you can go f*ck yourself."

also, somewhat more sheepishly:
"Maybe I give a sh*t. Maybe you can go f*ck yourself."

It's a great way to be angry, and still express your defensive and somewhat sensitive side.
Try it, go on. Try it. It's a sports bar, you can say anything you'd like.

Ask the Bartender : Advice Column #2

2007-06-14T15:17:00.000-05:00

Here's the second installment of my new Ask the Bartender Advice Column, published in the Connect Statesboro of the Statesboro Herald. See it on their site here. If you have questions, I'd love to answer them. If you'd like a similar column, or to syndicate this column, please let me know.

Dear Bartender,

About two months ago I started dating a friend of a friend. He and I immediately liked each other, and were regularly spending weekends together. The third or fourth time we saw each other, he told me for the first time, "You can't expect anything from this. I don't want to hurt you. I'm still getting over my ex-girlfriend, and I can't guarantee you that I won't be an asshole to you." I know I should have taken these warnings as a huge red flag, but I rationalized these statements away by placing more importance on how he behaved toward me—he was kind and flattering and curious about me—than on what he said to me during these brief, grave conversations.

My question is not about how to interpret his behavior. I know that it is time for me to move on to a less complicated and less degrading kind of relationship. My problem is that I continue to care about this, even though it only makes me unhappy and mean. I know that I like him but that the timing is bad, and there's nothing I can do about it. In spite of that, I am hanging on, beating myself up about it. I have never acted like such a fool before, and I'm not sure why I'm doing it or what I can do to make myself stop. What should I do?

Let go. Run like hell. When someone tells you that they can't love you, or don't deserve you, or aren't ready, you should say "absolutely". Swallow that rock in your throat, finish your beer, and rejoice in the fact that they knew themselves so well to know that they don't deserve you, and can't love you. You must respect yourself enough to hear the things people are trying to tell you, and act appropriately. It doesn't matter if you blame timing, or ex-lovers, or whatever is happening in their life: they can't be with you, so you can't be with them either. You deserve someone who is madly in love with you. You are worth it. You should never convince someone to be in a relationship.

Meanwhile, we all know that hollow ache in the ribcage. You should nurse your broken heart with some beer. You need something more bitter than the truth, made with flowers, something that withstands long journeys and oceans of regret. I want you to drink some India Pale Ale. This beer originated with British brewers who needed a beer that could be shipped to their occupying empire in India. The hops and higher alcohol acted as preservatives, which withstood the long journey and kept the flavor of the brews fresh. You will drink these pints as an elixir of your own self-preservation. You are a strong and lovely woman, and this strong beer is going to remind you of who you want to be. This is a style of beer which American brewers can truly say they've improved upon. You are improving on your own life too.

I'm not sure what's on your local pub's tap lines, but if they have them, pick from these breweries: Avery, Dogfishhead, Stone, Sixpoint, Rogue, Fisherman's, or Weyerbacher. If they don't have them, tell the manager that you can't stand their terrible selection and demand they order a keg of something worth drinking. Pick one kind of IPA to drink for the night. After two or three pints, cut yourself off before your drunk. Go home, turn off the light, and sleep. Dream of sea journeys and adventure. One morning you will wake up not thinking about this boy, or this mess you're getting out of. You'll be thinking about the man you met the night before, who was enthralled by everything you said, and won't spring some dumb state-of-the-union talk on you unless there's a ring involved.

Dear Bartender,

Is it sleazy to go to a sports bar to pick up dudes if you aren't actually into sports? I'm the kind of girl who loves bars and beer and drinking, and my friends tell me that sports bars are full of eligible men. I've been considering it.

Please, don't be the misplaced girl who tries to distract true fans from their one weekly event of happiness. Sports distract people from their lives, allow them to collectively rejoice or anguish over their team's play. Fans love these teams and sports historically; they know players, stats, stories, yet still relish in the carnal joy of watching athletes perform well. There must be something in your life that you adore like sports fans adore their teams. You should try to date someone who has similar interests, not someone whose interests obviously diverge.

You may also want to consider these deterrents: 1. Fans like to date other fans, and there will be trivia involved which will make you look dumb. 2. Men who have girlfriends or wives often go to sports bars with their friends, where they all act like college kids again. After all the cheering and drinking is over, they are going home to their partners, not with you. 3. Again, you shouldn't try to date people who love stuff that you don't even like, certainly not as the inception of your relationship. 4. Sports fans are there to watch the game, and talk about sports, not to be bothered explaining it all to you.

If you love bars and beer, go to a Belgian or specialty beer bar. The men there are probably more eligible, and would love to share a fine pint with a girl who doesn't like sports. Maybe you could explain a thing or two to them, and appear as the smart girl you are, not the idiot girl in the sports bar.

Ask the Bartender : Advice Column #1

2007-06-14T15:10:00.000-05:00

This is a reprint of the Connect Statesboro Publication of my column. To see their site, go here.
Soon I'm trying to get this column into syndication, so if you know any editors who might want to pick it up, let me know. If you have questions you'd like to see in a future column, please leave them in comments. Thanks!

Dear Bartender:

I'm 30. I've been spending a lot of time with a girl who's ten years younger than me. She's beautiful, smart, talented and just a little bit random. I helped her get through a rough personal situation, and she's been a lot of fun for me, since I just got out of a long relationship. I want something more with this girl, but she says she just wants to "be her" and not date anybody. It's killing me - and what's especially killing me is that lately she's been spending a lot of time with a really scuzzy-looking guy who just happens to have similar taste to her in music. Should I just chalk this one up as a lost cause and try to move on?

And yes, this is a situation that's actually been driving me to pound back more Jaeger shots than usual these days.

Dear Jaegerator,

About the girl, It sounds like you're waiting to be told what you already know. She's not old enough to go to a bar with you legally, and probably won't enjoy a good cocktail for years to come. Chalk that one up to capricious youth. You both leaned on each other to get through some stories that were ending. She, the frivolous young thing, was meant to extend the good times of the long-term relationship, to remind you how you felt when you were happy with someone else, not to double the drinking comfort college kid shots time. She was a distraction. That scuzzy boy probably won't be serious enough for her in a few months; he's just a two-can Sam. Don't think about him. Take her advice first, be you. Take a break from the drama. People who don't pay rent for the space they inhabit in your heart should be evicted.

In a month, or a few weeks, when you're ready, you'll find yourself sitting at a long stretch of mahogany, oiled with old beer and a printed coaster in front of you. Take my advice then: stop drinking the Jaeger. Order yourself an old fashioned. Tell your bartender to think pre-prohibition old fashioned: just bourbon, a dash or two of bitters, a dash of simple syrup, and a hunk of ice. Take an orange peel and a lit match: squeeze the orange peel to send a little splash of flame over the top of the drink, run the warm peel around the edge of the glass, and drop it in. When a lady sits down who you think could have watched the same Saturday morning cartoons as you did, ask the bartender to send a drink down the bar to her. Order her a Pink Lady - it's an old sweet favorite. Wait for her to come over to you, enchanted.

For bonus points, ask her if she had a tree house when she was a little girl. Listen intently as she describes it to you. Next round, matching drinks, Bees Knees (Gin, honey, lemon).

Dear Bartender:

Should I get bangs? I know the eighties are over and back again, but I've been thinking about it more and more lately. Well, should I?

Sugar,
Get some bangs and drink some whiskey. Neat. Girls who have bangs and drink neat whiskey are more fun than everyone else.

Dear Bartender:

Two of my friends are getting married to each other. I introduced them a couple years ago (set them up on a blind date!) and we've stayed in touch, but they didn't invite me to their wedding. Most of our mutual friends were invited. I'm not sure if I should feel totally slighted or just slightly annoyed. I'm not a big fan of weddings, but I definitely would've appreciated the gesture of an invitation. How should I respond to this situation, and does this mean we're no longer friends?

Nixed from the Nuptials (Texas)

Dear Nixed,

It's odd that they didn't invite you, but weddings are such complicated social feasts that any number of things could have happened to keep the invitation out of your mailbox. They could have had a limited number of guests for instance, or thought you wouldn't have come, or a million other reasons. We don't need to figure them out, instead to decide how to act. First, congratulations on successfully setting up your friends and it lasting- a rare occasion indeed. Let us, on the announcement of their marriage, be happy for them. My advice to you, despite not being invited, is to send them a card and a ridiculously nice bottle of champagne. Let the card read, "I am delighted to have heard of your engagement. When I set you up on the blind date that led to you both finding happiness in each other, I could have only dreamed for this to happen. I value you both as friends, and wish I could be there to see the great ceremony. I hope that you can toast with this bottle of champagne at the reception. I miss you both, and wish you the best."

I imagine instead of a thank you card, you'll receive a weepy and smiling phone call from the bride, begging you to be there on the big day. Then, if you want to go, go. If you don't want to go, ask her to meet you for cocktails after the honeymoon. If she doesn't call, ask her to meet you for cocktails anyway. Sip a pair of Queen's Park Swizzles while she complains about all the things that went wrong in your absence.

The infamous fake ID page is back up.

2007-05-31T12:36:00.000-05:00

The fake ID page which was DMCA'd is back up.

Click here to see it.

Other amusing or well-written links to this issue lately have included

Talking Law School Blues

John Sterni

This one

Ian's Blog

if you've linked me to your site, let me know. Thanks!

Columns

2007-05-26T11:54:00.000-05:00

There's a series of essays by Roland Barthes, published in English translation in the Hopkins' Press book On Signs. Having read these daily writings from Barthes when I was in school, I've always dreamed of writing similar columns in my own life. I guess I think about blogs as being less public sorts of that type of work.

Barthes wrote, "But suppose there were also minor events whose tenuity none the less does not fail to invovle meaning, to deesignate what is not well with the world? In short, suppose one were gradually and patiently to be concerned with transforming the grid of intensities?"

I too will write of the small world, and it's immensities. But not exclusively on my blog anymore, as I am writing an advice column for the Statesboro Herald in Georia, and have been asked to submit some works for a few other websites (which I will name only after they've accepted my works. hopefully)

But how exciting! I will, of course, continue to write here as well.

Long long weekend.

2007-05-21T17:14:00.001-05:00

All weekend I kept waiting for the next awesome fake ID to arrive, but sadly, with school out for summer, no little creeps came into the bar. For everyone who is holding their breath to see if I'm going to post another, take a halftime breathing break ok? Or go read this funniest-since-dinosaur-comic comic.

Meanwhile, I got an air conditioner for the other room. I decided that I hate losing all the light to those awful, gray, never-clean window "wings" that the a/c unit comes with. So I did what all heliotropic fix-it nerds would do, I didn't install them. Instead I made the obvious choice of buying a piece of plexi-glass to fit the missing space's dimensions. I put the weather stripping in the window jamb, between the parting bead and the inside stop, then nestled the plexi into that cushion and closed the window to the height of the a/c and the plexi. To finish it off, I taped the edge of the plexi to the a/c and to the bottom of the sash, with white and black tape respectively.

Now we get air conditioning with the great bonus feature of light. Hurrah!

I know, the window is dirty. One thing at a time, people.

Also, I'm still looking for folks to email me questions to respond to in my sample advice column for a fabulous alt-weekly in georgia. So if you have any need for advice that doesn't define you as a new yorker, please comment them to me or email me as soon as possible. Thanks!

While I'm waiting...

2007-05-15T13:04:00.000-05:00

So the original post #5 has another week and a half until it can return. When it does I'm going to blur out the pertinent information, via an agreement I made with the girl who filed the DMCA.
I'm not obfuscating the info because I think she has rights to the image, info, or signature, but because I hope she wouldn't get the same kind of crazy responses from strangers that I've been dealing with for a week.

I'm still sorting through a few pages of emails that I've received in the last week about this whole ordeal. Many people have written to me with interesting stories about their troubles in the service industry, their support for my blog and its humor - I think these people are amazing and funny. The bar was flooded this weekend with people eager to show their IDs and talk about the misuse of the DMCA and local community politics. Commendable that you would all show up in the real world to talk about something you care about on the internet.

Also, I have received some terribly threatening emails, citing how vindictive they think I am for my posting of fake ID's online. And true, maybe I've inadvertently enabled the theft of fake personalities - if the underage drinkers cared about themselves, they wouldn't have their real information on these fake ID's.

Maybe the readers who wrote to me so venomously should direct the same fury at every bar that posts their confiscated fakes on the front door glass or over the bar, perhaps they should lobby for the drinking age to change. Or maybe the consequences of making fraudulent government documents should be taken more seriously. I find it intriguing that they were more concerned about the misuse of false information than the production of rather convincing fake documents.

Also, I found that as a whole, the people who were in support of my blog and its contents were much better spellers than those who declared their hatred for me.

Would this whole discussion be different if the girl in question wasn't a white girl from Iowa but perhaps someone who looked more like the image below? What if the ID holder wasn't going to use the ID to buy alcohol but maybe ... guns? or go to flight school?

Either way, the DMCA shouldn't protect criminals, of any rank, race, age, or intention. And yes, I will continue to post on this blog any fake ID's I confiscate. Not because I want to publicly shame "innocent" criminal underage drinkers, but because I like writing up the accounts that go with them. And there are a few hundred people who seem to enjoy reading them and hearing about my sometimes zany life and opinions.

For those of you who are interested, I've also been given the opportunity to write an advice column for a newspaper. Please feel free to comment or email me your (non-fake ID and non-DMCA) questions, in dear Abby style format.

Thanks.
Rachel

counter notification received.. waiting..

2007-05-10T23:25:00.000-05:00

To whomever is concerned,
Google sent me this today, so when it goes through, my original post can return.

Hello Rachel,

We have received your DMCA counter notification dated 5/9/07 regarding rachelhyman.blogspot.com/2007/04/fake-id-confiscation-5.html. As described in 17 U.S.C. 512(g), we will forward the counter notification to the complainant. If we do not receive notice from the complainant that he has brought an action in the district court within 14 days, we will reinstate the material in question on Blogger. We appreciate your patience in this process.

Sincerely,
The Blogger Team

Also, for those of you who are wondering about any other press this is getting, check out this article in plagiarism today. I don't agree with all of it, but it brings up some interesting questions about the DMCA and copyright restrictions.

I'd like to wish a warm thank you to the folks from Fark.com that came out to the bar tonight for cheese night. The omission of pitchforks and torches was much appreciated. Anyone else who would like to talk about all this and is in the Lower Manhattan Area, feel free to come by the Burp Castle on friday night. I'll be there pulling pints as usual.

write soon,
rachel

"In Soviet Russia, Hyman busts you. "

2007-05-09T00:03:00.000-05:00

For those of you who haven't seen the slash dot commentary, the fark commentary, or the digg comments, I'll tell you that they're gruesome at times and honest at others. I'm disappointed at how many people would resort to personal attacks. A great many insisted that I was power tripping, and a few even said I had a "big fish in a small pond" complex.-- Manhattan is an island, not a pond. It might not be the biggest island in the world, but it's a pretty important one if you ask me. I don't think the important parts of this discussion should be about either myself or Ashley: it's not a "who is the bigger bitch" contest. Regardless, some people seem mistaken about some facts about me that I'd like to set straight.

About ME
I went to college at Boston University, graduated 2002. I grew up in working class Baltimore, and now bartend (despite my college degree) so that I can spend my time working on my art. I am a realist painter and I do some installation projects as well. In college I did try my hand at poetry slam, and was the champion of Boston's Cantab Lounge for over a year, and a member of the Cantab's 2001 and 2002 national teams.

What all of this was about before the DMCA Notice
My blog was about my life. Take it or leave it- kids who bring fake ID's into the bar and attempt to be served are putting me in danger. My way of diffusing that danger has been to post the confiscated ID's for the amusement of my readers (before yesterday "my readers" meant my family and friends and some patrons from the bar).

What is the tension that would cause me to post these ID's?

The relationship between NYU, the surrounding community, and the community board needs great repair. The east village has gone through a stage of gentrification, and ended up as an "east village" themed section of New York. The streets that were once home to countless artists and poets, Tompkin Square park riots, a thriving NYC punk rock scene, and squatters, have started to become luxury condos and more NYU dorms. While CBGB's couldn't keep it's lease, their T-Shirt shop sprung up on St. Mark's Street selling their garb without a problem.

The Community Board can try to limit new liquor licenses and the police can try to find ways to eliminate old licenses, but this will cause a tension in the service industry. A lot of money is being spend commercializing an area that was for years residential and dangerous, but now is very fertile ground for development and bars. NYU is purchasing and using a lot of the area, and their students are inflating the rents in order to be close to their classes. Understandable. The people who have lived here for years are fighting the weekend noise, the public drunkenness, the increase in rents, and the changes which are replacing the character of the neighborhood with chain stores. Also, understandable.

I'm trying to give a framework for those of you who aren't from or familiar with this part of downtown New York City. It is silly to think a place will never change. But change should be approached responsibly, organically, and people should respect each other enough to work together-- that was always the way the east village residents tried to function.

The police have been doing sting operations, especially on bars that aren't friendly to underage drinking. Lately beer bars, like the one I work in, have been temporarily shut down, and suddenly the fear of not IDing the right people has begun to spread.

I post the fakes I confiscate from the bar. Some argue that this is an extreme measure for the underage drinker to endure. I don't think so.

How about this extreme: If I serve the person who hands me that ID and a cop comes in to check the place, I can be fined thousands, my boss can lose hundreds of thousands in investment when the bar is closed, I lose my job, and then I CAN BE ARRESTED AND THROWN IN JAIL.
What would happen to the kid who brought this into the bar? Not much - a small fine and at most- community service hours.

The repercussions are not fair. Maybe it isn't my place to equalize them by mocking a kid who thought it was ok to threaten my livelihood and freedom. Maybe mocking isn't enough, and everytime I get an ID I should have the person arrested on the spot. Save the cops the trouble later on. Is that what you want?

I think that's vindictive. I don't think posting the ID was an attempt to cause harm on these kids, but a way to discuss a situation where they try to trick me and lose. If you were in the service industry you might understand my lack of compassion for people who try to get me fired from my job. No, I'm not a cop. I'm a citizen and resident of a neighborhood that is affected by the new brashness and confidence ( and a wicked sense of entitlement) that the underage drinkers exercise by coming into our bars, and putting us in a very bad position.

I didn't drink in bars until I was over 21. Maybe the law should make it legal for 18 year olds to drink, but I don't have enough of a political lobby to change that myself. MADD changed it in the 80's because of drunk driving accidents. Outside of New York, America has a driving culture. People drive to the bar and still drive home after a few drinks. That scares me. So until the oil runs out, US lawmakers have made a sincere attempt to keep drunk driving down, which means letting people feel the dangers of driving before they can legally drink. Somehow the change in the drinking age helped lower some death statistics. I don't know that changing the drinking age back to 18 will keep those statistics down. Inside New York City, the majority of people don't drive, and certainly a great weight would be lifted from the shoulders of the service industry if college kids could drink legally.

In those places where patrons do drive to the bar, the bartender and bar can be sued if on their drive home they hit someone. That's awful. Americans need to start taking responsibility for their actions, and not abuse the legal system to blame others for their own mistakes.

I don't think Ashley was driving, and I'm certain that neither of us meant for this issue to blow up like it has over the past few days. She didn't have malicious intent, and neither did I. But the laws in which we function could have done seriously terrible things to me for her having a fake ID if I didn't catch her. As a bartender, I am responsible for other's actions. That is not right.

Why the DMCA notice was important
Her choice to use a DMCA notice to remove her picture may not have been the best move. But what is this law that would allow immediate censorship of someone's first amendment rights without any review? Ashley acted on the advice of a friend, and obviously didn't see the reaction of the internet world coming. But what injustice did she stumble upon?

Maybe the real treachery of this situation is the way that we've legislated away our right to speak and publish. Is this law just? What are the many ways it's being used improperly?

Isn't that the real issue? A fake ID wouldn't make the cover of a slash dot page unless it was about something else. It's about the laws we've allowed to be passed and how these laws are functioning against us. It's about how we're in such a culture of fear that we allow this legislation.

What are you going to do about it?
Will you write a letter to your senator about how you disagree with the DMCA?
or go to the Electronic Frontier Foundation and learn more about what's going on?
Do what you think is right and live responsibly, in every way you can.

Whats become of it all
I didn't intend to slander Ashley, and certainly didn't intend the firestorm of hate that washes both towards her and me from the few internet discussions about us.

I obviously don't have control over the US liquor laws, and do think that these things need to be revised.

Especially, I think NYU needs to take some responsibility for its students and how they're effecting the neighborhood. I think the penalty for underage drinking should be heavier on the drinker, not the bar or the bartender.

I think the DMCA should be used properly, and with restraint. All laws should be used to help society function with the least amount of hurt.

I apologize if I've hurt Ashley, or any of the other kids who try to pass off a fake ID at the bar. I hope they too apologize, like Ashley has. Her apology was well thought out and very sincere.

People should learn to interact with each other decently. I'm sorry for all of you who missed the humor of my posts, and who thought I was attempting to endanger underage drinkers as they have already endangered me. I really wasn't attempting to be malicious.

Many people have asked me if they can make donations in case I end up in a legal battle. Awesome! There's a paypal button on the left column if you feel so inclined. Thanks.

Regarding Fake ID's

2007-05-07T16:34:00.000-05:00

The last few days have had some interesting things occur in the life of my little blog here. First, I've had an amazing amount of readers referred here by a link from facebook. Then, realizing that someone had the lack of forsight to use their real name on a fake ID and had found my blog from my posting, as I do, of their fake ID with text about the confiscation of the ID. I removed their last name from the posting in a gesture of good faith.

See, I collect the fake ID's by confiscating them from underage people who attempt to buy alcohol. I've been informed that I'm required to do this. I don't mind because frankly, our bar is for adults, and not a NYU undergrad hangout. My bar has not had a problem with underage drinking, only other bars that my bar's owner also owns. I have never knowingly served a minor, and never will. Enough of my friends work in the service industry in the neighborhood that if I don't confiscate the ID's, I'm putting their jobs and livelihoods at risk.

I seem to be making an amazing amount of enemies from doing this. Sadly, they don't realize that their real enemy is probably the community board that is cracking down on underage drinking in the East Village, and the Liquor Board that would revoke our license to serve beer legally if we too didn't do everything in our power to stop underage drinkers from obtaining beer at our bars.

Why people would use their real names to make a fake ID?
The obvious advantage is that their credit cards then function as backup identification. The amazingly obvious drawback is that their name is on the illegal piece of identification.

When I went to college, at freshman orientation, we were given a lecture by the Boston Police about the consequences of our actions. If we were caught with a Fake ID, our drivers license would be suspended in our home state, and we would suffer penalty from the University, and legal action from the state of Massachusetts.

Perhaps NYU freshman aren't informed with the same zest that I was. Perhaps the idea of actions having consequences hasn't been ingrained in their minds yet. College is about learning, developing a capacity for critical thought, and sometimes professional training. Education in general is also a method of socializing individuals to society. I should hope that the admission standards of NYU would be enough that the students would be at least mildly socialized to common laws and basic ethical arguments.

The choices you make in life will always carry consequences, some good, some bad, some extreme, some minor, some avoidable- with interaction comes vulnerability to the reaction of others. The justice system, whose laws you can choose to break, might also protect you from the consequences of breaking those laws, but only if you admit those laws are broken first. You could face a choice. You can engage that system while considering, is the admission of my initial breaking of the law going to cause more extreme consequences than my attempt to protect myself? or you can try to talk to the person who you threatened by breaking the law or you can let the consequences play out.

The differences between being a minor and being underage

A minor is under 18, an underage drinker is under 21. The advantage of being a minor is that you can have all records sealed at 18 of any mis-doings in your youth. The disadvantage of being 18 -21 is that you are an adult, and while that does not include being able to purchase alcohol until you are 21, you are considered responsible for your actions.

What has happened over the last few days

I posted a blog entry about a girl who tried to use a fake ID at the bar I work at. I posted a picture of that fake ID. I used her full name in the text of the post. Friday, she commented that she found it and was furious about my noting a political affiliation in the post. Subsequently, she wrote about it in her facebook notes, or someone did, because hundreds of people have visited this blog from that reference point over the weekend.

I realized that it could be a great disservice for her to have this blog show up on every google search of her name. Good intentions in my heart, I deleted the last name in every part of the article so when the cache was refreshed by google, it would no longer show up for searches of her name. I even emailed one of the people who commented, claiming they knew her, so she could rest easy that I didn't have malicious intent. Let's see what I get for being nice.

Then I checked my other email account, which is listed on my other website with an old address of an old studio space. I had been subscribed to some wild internet sites, and a few magazines too. Identity theft is a big deal kids. I unsubscribed myself to a bunch of these things, and sent notices to the magazines (which will not be forwarded to my new address because they will be less than first class in shipping, and aren't covered by the postal service's forwarding service.)

I wonder if the people who thought that using my email and address was a great idea were smart enough not to use their home computers, or school computer accounts. Those ISP addresses would be so trackable. I suppose the police will figure it out if I decide to call them up about all this.

So then the friend of the girl in question and I exchanged a few emails about the situation. He had some rather confused logic justifying a DMCA takedown notice, but informed me that "this young lady is going places". huh. sure, right. Like everyone at NYU. It seems they're all going to drive up the rent in the neighborhood.

This morning I got a notice from Blogger that read:

Hello Rachel,

Blogger has been notified, according to the terms of the Digital
Millennium Copyright Act (DMCA), that some of your images allegedly
infringe upon the copyrights of others. The URLs of the allegedly
infringing images may be found at the end of this message.

The notice that we received, with any personally identifying information
removed, may be found at the following link:
http://www.chillingeffects.org/notice.cgi?sID=3261

Please note that it may take several weeks for the notice to be posted on
the above page.

The DMCA is a United States copyright law that provides guidelines for
online service provider liability in case of copyright infringement. We
are in the process of removing from our servers the images that allegedly
infringe upon the copyrights of others. If we did not do so, we would be
subject to a claim of copyright infringement, regardless of its merits.
See http://www.educause.edu/Browse/645?PARENT_ID=254 for more information
about the DMCA, and see http://www.google.com/dmca.html for the process
that Blogger requires in order to make a DMCA complaint.

Blogger can reinstate these images upon receipt of a counter notification
pursuant to sections 512(g)(2) and 3) of the DMCA. For more information
about the requirements of a counter notification and a link to a sample
counter notification, see http://www.google.com/dmca.html#counter.

Please note that repeated violations to our Terms of Service may result in
further remedial action taken against your Blogger account. If you have
legal questions about this notification, you should retain your own legal
counsel. If you have any other questions about this notification, please
let us know.

Sincerely,
The Blogger Team

Affected URLs:
rachelhyman.blogspot.com/2007/04/fake-id-confiscation-5.html

So I immediately called up some friends of mine who are lawyers. First, I wanted to make sure that I wasn't confused about what a DMCA notice is. It is a way to make sure that copyrighted images, text, etc aren't published without permission. Fine. I definately published her fake ID without permission. But can you have a copyright on a fake ID?

Nope.

"Copyright, a form of intellectual property law, protects original works of authorship including literary, dramatic, musical, and artistic works, such as poetry, novels, movies, songs, computer software, and architecture." says the U.S. Copyright office.

A fake ID, besides being illegal to create in the United States, is a derivative work of the United States Government, and is not an original creative work of authorship.

I think it's really interesting that someone would try to claim that the fake ID was their own creation, and subject to their copyright. Admitting you make fake ID's is a serious bath of trouble. More so even than just trying to use one, or possessing one.

At the end of the Day

At the end of the day, I went to yoga, and didn't think about this business at all. When it slipped into my head, I lost my balance. I'm filing a counter notification and considering putting the young lady's full name back into the post. I don't need to do any favors to anyone who first tried to buy alcohol at my bar, endangering my finances and job, and then didn't have the decency to ask me before filing a bogus complaint with blogger about an image I've posted.

If it's pushed further, I'll have some journalist friends willing to make the story more public than this, and her ridiculous attempt to rudely shut-down my blog in order to protect her "budding political career" will be made an example of, in this alcohol strict community board 3 area.

Final Remarks

You cannot copyright fraudulent documents. You should not make or use fake ID's. You are responsible for you, so act as if everyone is watching and don't do things that you'll be ashamed of later-- and don't try to cover up things you do with rude and ridiculous legal documents. Sometimes being polite works a lot better than pulling out a big ol' shovel and digging yourself deeper.

Don't try to put your bartender in a corner, if she's a scorpio like me, she's probably got a ridiculously large social network with which she can fight back.
Also, all day I've had that Hall and Oates song running through my head. I'm not sure how it applies, but the lyrics go like this:

You're a rich girl, and you've gone too far

cause you know it don't matter anyway

You can rely on the old mans money

You can rely on the old mans money

It's a bitch girl but its gone too far

cause you know it don't matter anyway

Say money but it wont get you too far,

Get you too far

chocolate

2007-05-02T14:13:00.001-05:00

Oh New York Times, you are so right on! Despite my undying love for chocolate, I hate Max Brenner. I think the restaurant totally sucks. Their service is bad, they have many managers yet not a single waiter who can serve food right. Three times I've tried, and three times they've failed me. Their food pales to any good food made with chocolate-- try for instance the chocolate sandwich at Diner in Williamsburg-- Diner knows how to take good bread and good chocolate and make a delightful sandwich of them-- but no I will not each lunch with Max again.

This article, New York Times, was almost as harsh as I wanted it to be.

If you want some chocolate, New Yorkers, try Kee's Chocolates on Thompson just south of Spring street. Best in the whole city, if not the world, and given the stamp of indulgent approval by me, and my balding foodie boyfriend, and trust me, you can taste the difference. Below is an elaboration of that suggestion, and two others.

Chikalicious Dessert Bar
on 10th street between 1st and 2nd

possibly the dantyest place ever. three course dessert prix fix for 12$ handmade by gorgeous chef in front of you. Also, matching wine for 7$ more.
The pettifours were amazing. the applesoup with ice cream was delicious. I went for the cheesecake, which was served in a bowl of milk? placed in a much larger bowl of crushed ice to keep it all chilled. I like extra dishes. Jerrbear got a chocolate tart like thing with peppercorn ice cream. It also tasted as amazing as it's presentation.
Perfect for, in our case, an anniversary dessert during a month that involves christmas shopping, a birthday, and grad school applications.

Wattleseed Ice Cream.
Available from Vosgues which has a store in soho, where a counter full of absolutely gorgeous model type ice cream store employees will sell you a small cup for 3.75.
This is the best ice cream you will ever have.
And apparently this stuff grows wild in austrailia, which is likely the actual land of milk and honey, if it really grows wild there. Wattleseed explains why the aboriginal people never needed to have more complciated civilizations, because being civilized has few benefits, like awesome food, and they already had that.
We took my parents to try this, they were adequately amazed, by the ice cream and the ladies who sold it.
(recently I've found it in the new bowery whole foods too.)

Kee's Chocolate.
Go to 16 Thompson St. - jsut south of spring st
These chocolates scored a 29 on the Zagat. That means perfect. They are perfect. The green tea one and the almond one are incredible. And the rest will redefine what you think dessert should be. This ruined hersheys. This wrecked my mom's diet. This is the best chocolate in the city, and it's only 1.75 for a bon-bon. Really, you have no excuse. It's better than whatever you're eating. (Even better than chikalicious, but there's no counter to eat at, and you'll want to gorge on them where Kee won't look at you devouring her art. )

Fake ID confiscation #6 #7 #8 #9

2007-04-28T14:39:00.000-05:00

It was a warm night last night. The east village was a bit dead, but there were quite a few people in the castle. You boys must have looked in and seen a bartender serving at a quick pace to people who she didn't seem to be carding. There was no bouncer, and hell, these ID's must have set you back at least a hundred and fifty each- there was no reason not to stop in for a fancy beer in a totally "adult" kind of bar.

The reason you didn't see me ID the people before you was that I had ID'd them on their first round, and of course, their ID's were real. Peter, you were the ring leader, the courageous one, the one who could play it cool and order a round. I asked for your ID's. No problem, you handed me four ID's.

Then there was a pause. I said to you, I don't think these ID's are real. You replied, that's ridiculous, why not? They're all our real ID's.

I said, they feel wrong.

You retorted, Wrong? What are you talking about?Fine! we'll leave.
I said, ok, but I'm not giving them back to you.
What?! you replied outraged.
It's a crime to give them back to you. Sorry.
NO WAY! you have to give us our ID's back. They're real!!

This was the moment I doubted.

I asked you, Peter, where in Michigan is Armada. You said, up north. I said, where up north. You made a thumbs up gesture and yelled, UP NORTH. I replied, you're not from Michigan- anyone from Michigan would have made their hand palm toward me, and pointed where on the mitten map of Michigan the town was. Have you ever met anyone from Michigan, Peter?

If you want them back I have to call the police, and they can give them back to you if they're real.
Fine, call the cops.

So I walkie-talkie to my dude in charge to get the owner. He said the owner had left. I picked up the phone and dialed the cops. You, Pete-y, called to me over the counter with, Hey! Handshake!. And tried to bribe me with ten whole dollars.

Peter, you can't even buy some of the beers at this bar for ten dollars.

Then you, and your three friends who looked pale as sheets, as if they were about to poo in their pants at any moment, ran like baby lambs from the bar.

The cops were called off.

See despite the confusion of some readers of other posts in this blog-- I really am liable for you drinking if you have that ID. What if you came back to the bar another night, when another bartender who didn't know the difference was working? What if a cop came in to check ID's as they do in the east village, and the place where I work was caught serving to a minor? I'd have no job - my co-workers and boss would have to go to court. Do you know how many friends of mine work in this industry? Why would I possibly want you to leave you armed to endanger them and their jobs too?

Peter, drink at home. Drink on your dorm rooftop. Drink in a state that doesn't care or a bar where I don't know anyone. But don't come to my neighborhood and try to get us in trouble. You're not from here. Also, you're not from Michigan.

grrrrr

2007-04-25T14:12:00.001-05:00

we're pretty tough. especially as cartoons.

Bamn. and she's off...

2007-04-22T14:00:00.000-05:00

The studio deal fell through. In a grave attempt not to be swindled out of the deposit, I should give up hope. The ideal location to give up hope is Atlantic city.

Be back in a day or two.

Wish me luck.

Fake ID confiscation #5

2007-04-20T01:19:00.000-05:00

Dear Ashley Hey-r,

There was no way you could've known. You had this really astoundingly good Maryland fake ID, and you were on a date with a boy who was over 21 and would show you the world of beer. Except, one hitch, me.

Something seemed wrong. Maybe it was the way the hologram reminded me of iridescent paper I had used once at an art studio, maybe it was how my old Maryland license had a bump where the rather ghetto real hologram was- and yours didn't.

So I asked you for a back-up ID. It was a NYU undergrad ID. Never the fool I asked, where did you go to high school? You replied, actually I went to school in Iowa.

Iowa.

No one from Pikesville goes to school in Iowa. I know, because I went to school with half of Pikesville. It's a predominantly Jewish neighborhood, which would also bring into question that altruistic organ donor choice. And the road, oh Ash, you couldn't have known that only rural or inner city (DC) roads are labeled like that. You definitely couldn't have guessed that I knew the road naming patterns from Pikesville, because I drove home so many kids from my high school, and developers are never creative.

You jumped to the rescue with, it's the new Maryland ID, and I said, no, it's the old one. I have the new one. You can't drink here, darling, and I'm keeping your ID.

But you went to high school in Iowa. Your father, Bra---y, donated 125$ to a campaign for Iowa State House representative, republican, Carmine Boal. You were a a page at the Iowa State House for a bit too. You did grow up on ---- NW --nd Place-- in Polk City IA 50226.

It does have a very nice photo on it, better than the real Maryland machines take. And you were sweet and sad and smiley, in that friendly Iowa way - even though you're a republican. I'm sure you cursed me when I was out of sight.

Maybe, some day, you'll come back to the castle, when you're 21, with your totally real Iowa ID, and order that glass of Lucifer you so desire. Perhaps we can talk politics for a while. Maybe you'll know how to defend yourself.

*some of the names and numbers have been dashed out to protect this lady from the lunatics who are sending threatening email to me about her. Obviously this blog is good natured, and not intended to wreck lives. Hopefully we can all see the amusement in the small triumphs in life (like being good at one's job- even when it's just bartending), and not create some sinister intent to assign to humor. This blog post is the one referred to on slashdot, fark, and digg. See other blog posts for follow up, and related content.

Also, for those of you who are reading this and accusing me of some kind of stalking to find out about her affiliations, know this: I found it by chance when googling her address to see if it was actually real, and her name, to see if it corresponded to the information I found. If you think I put people at risk by publishing their addresses, first consider that the address was verified by public documents on campaign financing.

missed beats

2007-04-18T12:35:00.000-05:00

So somehow I didn't know that Lawrence Ferlinghetti was reading at the Y on monday. Dammit. For years I tried to find that man, but to no avail. Now, he just waltzed down 92nd street and I missed it.

My favorite old beat was a professor of mine in college. He lives a block away. I can literally see the back of his brownstone from the window in my tenement apartment that looks out the back. I saw him on the street once a few months ago. He's one of the few people who recognized me after I cut off my dreadlocks, but still is so overworked and busy that he doesn't have time for lunch. He sent me a photo in explanation, but hopefully will spare some time soon for some coffee at veselka, or his favorite there, scrambled eggs. Maybe he'll come by my new studio?

Alfred is the second in from the left, wielding the crazy pick. I love his guts.

theft, fraud, cocoons, molting

2007-04-16T19:17:00.000-05:00

Today I got a letter from a bill collector-- not a bill for something I purchased, used, or forgot about paying-- but the electricity bill for a year of use from 2002-2003 in a house I wasn't living in, in a town I had moved away from, and an account that I had closed-- but seemed to re-open without my asking after the house had burned down, been rebuilt, and someone else was living there.

OH N-Star, how I hate you so. Maybe you provide electricity to Boston and Allston, but you done me wrong, babe. So three years after I last wrote a letter to explain to a collections agency how this isn't my charge, I again wrote it. Only this time I called the boston police first, and reported an identity theft, an unauthorized use of my social security number, a ink-spot on my credit report that six years later isn't close to being cycled through. Maybe they'll realize their mistake now, stop harassing me intermittently years later.

Instead of being stressed about this, I went to the gym-- which made me nauseous. Something about the elliptical machine and I just don't get along. So I rowed. I rowed like there was a river that needed exploring, and I, fabled squaw, was going to find out what was there.

The first big fork in the river led me down a pass where maybe my heart would explode, but I saw butterflies. They were me being nervous. A big one from a dream I had last week landed on the tip of my canoe. This winged silkworm spoke of one fine space:

my new studio. with a little bit of trouble and a lot of fending off creepy old men, I'm probably going to be getting a studio in the basement of a neighboring building. Yes, a painting studio. I'm not sure if I'll be able to afford the rent, but hell, it's cheaper than the grad schools I didn't get into. It'll give me a place to move all my art stuff to, and where I can only work on my work. Not deal with the mail and the mess and the tv and the distractions. I want to log hours in a basement room with a stereo and a cement floor. I want to seal and paint that floor, install shelves, buy a de-humidifier (good idea craig), and make something worth looking at. Hopefully the rest will follow-- curator and critics visits, a gallery deal somewhere.. the future, that lake, those huge eyes flapping in the air.

surviving our youth.

2007-04-10T19:14:00.000-05:00

finally, after all these years, I found them again.
possibilities endless.

After a week with my younger brother in town, I'm glad not to be 15. And glad I have really cool brothers. And yes, I find funny photos in the met really amusing. Teenagers should totally be taught to interact with and impersonate the best art.

Petra

2007-03-27T11:54:00.001-05:00

DSCF6532, originally uploaded by RachelHyman.

There's more photos of petra on my flickr account (see left "suggested visitations").

I went to Jordan for a day while I was in israel. It was like being inside an antiquity, with no strings attached. 95% of Petra is still unexcavated, or so they claim. My tour guide, Hussein, seemed more interested in making jokes to the tour group while the old caught their breath from walking, than in telling us everything he knew about the town.

What I've ascertained are some basics: Petra was a very important, and defensible, stop on the spice trade routes. They loved (and we still love) their camels. The treasury was not a treasury, but a funeral tomb. Most of the carved rooms in the cliffs were. The rocks tumbling down all the hills were the bricks cut out of the cliffs while making the funerary tombs, these stones at some point were built into houses for the people who were eventually buried in the cliff sides. An old roman road runs through the center of town, with some ancient trees and the ruins of a temple, and some other buildings. This road was the main drag, with booths and shops and all the glorious commerce you'd expect from a roman-conquered town.

If you enter the city through the same route as indiana jones, you'll see a water trough carved about waist high in the walls beside you, and walk straight into the most stunning view of the treasury- the prettiest graveyard in the middle east. (Egypt might argue on that, but they're in africa, and I haven't been there yet.)

But the cliffs, when you climb away from the ill-informed tour group, and away from the snapping german tourists, the cliffs are quiet and resonant all at once. The ground is covered in boulders streaked with undulating layers of ancient silt, and shards of greek pottery still power the dirt. The red is from the iron, not the pottery, but is so strong that it blinds itself from your eyes, and you see ribbons of yellow and white and blue in the rock. If you pocket a few stones like I did, hoping to bring home a reminder that petra isn't jus red, you'll find the starkly different colors you saw there are shades of red when your eyes readjust to the rest of your life.

The colors of Petra are about extreme subtlety and quiet. They are the underlying resistance of the beaudoins who were pushed from these caves, and the spice traders who were forced to abandon them. The stones from my pockets left a dust in my suitcase that scared the israeli airport security. I'll leave them on my father's grave next week. All the places in the world he never got to, I'll just bring a little bit back.

Fake Id confiscation #4 Florida

2007-03-24T02:56:00.000-05:00

Oh Anne Fleming, your fake ID looked brand new. Your friends had just turned twenty-one. You, however, had not. You handed it to me and I recognized it like an ill-fated back-handed compliment. I simply said, "This is fake" while slipping it into my pocket. And you replied an unrehearsed, "Is it?"- as if you had never seen the ID either. Perhaps you are a Pisces, and "Anne" is really your darker half. The dark half would like some Belgian beer, or perhaps her ID back. No, I can't give you either. Why? The same tell-tale eagle/authentic hologram is on each fake they press on St. Marks. It looks like the printer was out of everything but green ink, apparently they've been busy. Me, too. Sorry about your night.
It's too bad; if you had a real ID, you could have been drinking on the veranda when Norah Jones showed up later. I ID'd her out of habit, even though I'd seen her here before. She's sweet. Oh, and my friend Jordan checked to see if there was a Navajo St in Miami-- you know, home of the Seminoles-- and there is. I was surprised. I wonder if you really grew up there after all.

Fake ID confiscation #3

2007-03-21T13:44:00.000-05:00

Oh Kathleen O'Brien.. what terribly unjust irony that your fake Id would be confiscated on St. Patrick's Day. Sure, it had that eagle/authentic hologram, but it was totally fake. Maybe you claimed you'd "been in my position before" and "understood", but could I give you your ID back anyway? No. You haven't been in my position, because you are not old enough to ever have bartended in the east village. You're spiteful glare and frustrated "Have a nice life!" as you walked out the door, proved how mature you are. Maybe one day you'll understand. Maybe after you're 21.

parapeteia

2007-02-27T12:37:00.000-05:00

an amazing article about boobs like mine.

I got a new bikini top today.

I'm about to leave for Israel.. be back in a few weeks.

Birth Certificate #1 -

2007-02-24T03:10:00.000-05:00

* I removed the image until I have time to photoshop blur some of the important information on it. check back soon.

Dear Aaron J----- N----, born on May 27th 1978,
Aaron, when I asked you for your ID, you said you had better things to do than get an ID made. You presented me with a social security card, a birth certificate, and some ID cards from various high paying jobs.
Aaron, when you went table to table shooshing the bar patrons, you didn't just piss them off, you cost me a lot of money as they left the bar. The quiet rule of the bar isn't for you to enforce, and was being followed. You were just drunk and being a jerk.
Your girlfriend's friends later claimed they don't like you. That's why I have your birth certificate, because they didn't feel like returning it to you.
Perhaps you should learn to tip better. Or at least write legibly on your receipt. I will consider holding your birth certificate at the bar, if you will consider that without it, you will have to take that time you didn't get an ID with, and get a new birth certificate, a rather consuming feat.

Fake ID confiscation # 2

2007-02-10T16:38:00.000-05:00

Ah, the classic "no one knows what a delaware ID looks like, this should totally work" ploy.
Not in our bar, kiddo.

But he went without a fight. Just a simple, and sad, "Ok, I'll leave then."

I think it's interesting how most of the Fake ID's I see are organ donors. There's an odd altruism in their assumed identities.

Where I've been.

2007-02-05T16:07:00.001-05:00

This was a rad map that I found on my friend Jarreau's myspace profile.. and now I have my own.

Impersonating the Virgin Mary

2007-02-03T16:12:00.000-05:00

Also, last night at the bar, a girl I'd never met named Hilary, who was really rad, took photo-booth style pics of my boyfriend impersonating the "Virgin" Mary. Also, there were photos of my mysterious friend Eric. You can check out more of her photos here. They're both better at posing for these things than I am. And both adorable.

Wasted Dude Wisdom

2007-02-03T15:38:00.000-05:00

Last night there were many things going on at the castle.
It was an action-packed night of regulars, new people, and weird things being said.
The last call stumblers-in who ordered a round of delirium tremens which they never actually drank included a really drunk guy. He wanted to know my opinions on "the dirty south", tried to convince my friend Eric that it was a great idea to smoke a pen, and tried to make diagrams of his love for Edie Sedgwick. His diagrams, the few that remained when he left, falling over the porch wall, were the four to left. I expect more.
More interestingly, I was chattin with the amazing techkids who hang out drinkin good beers, and one of them works for my favorite magazine. Possibly, if he wasn't too drunk to remember the conversation, I'll end up interning there. All my dreams fulfilled. One night. Bam.

Advice Column

2007-02-02T16:01:00.000-05:00

I think you should all know, I am now accepting requests for advice.

Why? Because I want to write a bitchin' "ask the bartender" or "ask rachel" kind of advice column. So I can share my knowledge, my skills, and my opinions on what you should do. Eventually, I'm aiming at getting it published somewhere.

So email me questions: anything on any topic.
rhyman (at) gmail.com
Or you can leave questions in the comments on this post.
I'll post some advice.

And soon... you'll be reading it in some well known publication. I promise.

Fake ID confiscation #1

2007-02-02T15:36:00.000-05:00

As usual, Thursday found me pulling pints at the castle.
I ID'd some kids who came in, and had to confiscate this totally bad fake.
Poor girl, I'm sure she spent $130 here.
But I'm liable, and hell no.
My sympathy for the young does not extend to things that will cost me thousands of dollars and maybe my job too.

Things to consider about ID's:
-any hologram that says "authentic" isn't
-bar codes are straight at the top
-arizona IDs expire when you are in your sixties
-a "residrivers liscence" isn't real
-if your signature is in a bleeding ink, everyone can spot that it's not real.
-an eagle hologram would be strange, for a state made of deserts.
-it doesn't even look like anything close to a real arizona ID

But it's mine now. And yes, I'm starting a collection.

Another day hard at work

2007-01-29T17:05:00.000-05:00

Anyone who is interested by the show heros.. click here. call the number for the code. fill out an application.

I don't know what will happen. But I'm willing to find out.

(oh hell, has my procrastination resorted to new tactics?)

The people and their soil.

2007-01-28T19:14:00.000-05:00

Maybe I spend my time working on the pressing deadlines I can't stop talking about. Or maybe I just read the best things I can find on the internet, like this article about nutrition. Unlike other articles on nutrition, it doesn't tell you to do stupid things, but explains why those things you've been doing are lame, and to eat some vegetables. It has some history in it too, so despite it's length, it's very interesting to read.

I wish I had room for a garden in my life.

Maybe when the landscape changes a little.

Back to work.

Chlamydoselachus anguineus

2007-01-25T14:08:00.001-05:00

scariest creature since the giant squid.
the frilled shark...
Even when it's sick, and in shallow water.

what a day.

pugilism

2007-01-22T22:39:00.001-05:00

In attempt to figure out what to write for my 1800 word narrative autobiography, I've been reading through old poems. Ok, it's procrastination. But here's a ditty I wrote over a year ago, maybe a year and a half.

Pugilist

By the 7th round, the point scores knew that he'd already lost

Hopkins rose up from that battering glove

locked his chin, jumped his shoulders

and struck down Taylor with a might

that suddenly remembered the sound of his own name.

A fighter with lead pipes for bones:

he’d mumbled 40 years on the sugar coated ribs of men

who could count their loses on one unwrapped hand.

You insisted it wasn’t a comeback:

He lost a title he's held for the longest in middle weight history.

He knew it was over, it just wasn’t going to end like that.

When I kissed you that night

My shoulders shook.

I couldn't love like exposure.

Even when we sparred, you know I don't block.

You told me the flaw of my stance was leaving my face open.

I couldn't take my eyes off you, even when I could see what was coming.

I can tell you finally,

What I have learned from happiness,

is so much less than all that I know.

2 down

2007-01-22T02:59:00.001-05:00

I've written two essays tonight, so I feel like I can take a moment of pause to talk about this.

This is a mouse. Not the one that's wireless to my keyboard, who I figured out tonight was malfunctioning not because I have done some karmic wrong, or because I'm a terrible consumer, but because the batteries were dead. Fine. New batteries.

There's a metal bucket in the kitchen, next the the trash that neither of us seem to be able to take out daily like we constantly promise eachother. In the bucket, about three days ago, I placed a cookie that I didn't like.

See there's a mouse. Actually I'm certain there are at least two. Which means there are probably more, or are going to be. That's the part I don't like.

When there was just one mouse it was the most adorable little rascal I've ever seen. Big ears, shiny healthy coat, blinking happy eyes, and what a sweet tooth. After my own heart with that sweet tooth.

It ate the hannukah geld we forgot to put in the mail away packages. It got into the sealed bags of chocolate-covered nuts. It found any cookie I forgot to take out of my bags, clear from the table, or throw away. It left more wrappers around than my cute boyfriend did. And it shredded them, so I knew who's they were.

But two. Two is about to be an infestation. And the cute adorable little mice aren't potty trained. Which is their fatal flaw.

But right now, while J keeps telling me he's going to get those traps that don't kill them so we can let them loose in the park. And if he doesn't, he'll get those other traps but being the meat-eater of the pair he'll deal with the death end. Right now, I'm trying what I remember of other non-fatal traps. Like the cookie in the big bucket.

I tried the thing Salah told me once, where you take a toilet paper roll with the tiniest bit of peanutbutter and balance it over a big bucket. The mouse walks in to get the peanutbutter and falls into the bucket- wha-lah! But I put the cookie in there so the mouse would be happy.

Instead the tube was spun around, the p-b eaten, and the mouse not in the bucket.

The next day there was some poop in the bucket, I think that was a "over the side" ordeal.

The cookie is still in there, and as there's slim pickins otherwise, so the mouse is checking it out.

Where I sit to write my application essays, I can see the trash. I try to ignore the mice. I'm thinking about my future here. But they're loud. And a minute ago, one walked the entire upper rim of the bucket looking for a way to climb down. That must be the chocoholic mouse. It also enjoys rummaging in plastic bags. It balances its weight with it's cute cute tail, switching inside outside with tail body, perfectly.

If only it wore a diaper or got potty trained. I hope J gets those nice traps soon. I don't know how much longer I can withstand their cuteness. and poop.

an afternoon stroll..

2007-01-15T14:23:00.000-05:00

After a trip to the amazing 24 hour post office on 31st street yesterday, where I mailed off two applications (the official count is now up to four), I took a bit of a stroll.

First I flirted with the incredibly sexy fromagier at the chelsea whole foods, who asked me to meet him later for drinks. (This isn't surprising, since we live together.) I also found out that the cheese I had so enjoyed at last week's cheese tasting at burp castle was called el'rocketeer or something like that. Some sexy rocket cheese.

Then I got some 4dollar vegetable lo mein from a chinese food place. The east village lacks cheap chinese food, and it is a great regret of the neighborhood. Chelsea apparently lacks nothing.

Then I saw a brilliant sight.... a sale at the container store. Why oh why do I love the container store so much??? Usually I would only answer, the clearance section. (which is a wonder of the west side for sure) But a 30% off sale?? I took a catalog and spent this morning designing things to organize our rather not-luxurious closet space. But yesterday, I got new ice cube trays with bins to hold the ice, and some acrylic boxes missing lids to replant plants into, and a bunch of other stuff.

All the walking around reminded me that soon I will be taking a last minute trip to israel, with Shaw and Glidden, and probably need better shoes for this. See, I've been wearing these sweet fashionable rocket dog kicks, but they don't support my feet. I began again my general quest for shoes that look cool and can support my feet all day. This quest, like a similar quest for boots which look cool and can support my feet, is always fruitless.

Any shoes which look good (chucks, rocket dogs, etc etc) are shitty inside. They always lack support and wear out in about 2 months tops. But all the shoes that help your feet (birkenstocks, naots, clarks, etc etc) are homely beasts that do not represent me in shoe form. I'm just not that sensible and earthy. Or maybe I am but I don't want to show it.

Regardless, I have a pair of Naots which are heaven to stand in, but almost embarrassing to be seen in. When I returned home, I found my favorite pair of chicagans (who were visiting for the weekend) and discussed this problem.

Then we realized that the shoes were the same shape. So I ripped out the awesome cork liner interior of the naots, and the thin useless liner of the rocketdogs, and switched them.

Now I have the ultimate shoes ever. So if any shoe designers ever read this, I hope they can think to put some damn nice "I love my feet more than I love the earth or all hippies ever" cork insides into some rad looking shoes, because you could be a millionaire. Me, I don't want the money, I just want someone to make some good shoes so I don't have to deal with shopping for something that doesn't exist.

chain nose nostalgia

2007-01-07T16:41:00.001-05:00

Found this cute little store near where I dropped off images for slides..

<- got one of these ditties

More good toys are here.

A good article I read on nostalgia last night, while editing my essay for a specific school is here. Look under writings.

Architeuthis

2007-01-06T19:12:00.001-05:00

A film of a giant squid. Live. Really. Here.

A reuters report...

No.

2007-01-03T21:51:00.000-05:00

The first thing I did was cancel my personal training session at the gym I've been to once since I joined. I have no business there with a personal trainer until at least next week, when I can conceive of actually maintaining a regular schedule of lifting. They didn't seem to mind and asked for no explanation.

I dropped off 55 pounds of laundry on my way to lunch. You'd think that would be all of it. At 85cents a pound it's not the best deal, but they throw in soap, separates, laundry detergent, and sorting my socks for free. We definitely tried two other places who didn't sort the socks before our best neighbor, and occasional life coach, Smoz recommended this place.

My day continued in the theme of laundry when I stripped the sofa of all cushion covers and the bed of all bedding and took them to the cosmos laundry on 1st. I ran into a Cal bears fan there (we have a contingent at the bar). I also managed to absentmindedly put my quarters into a machine full of wash that wasn't mine, to which the laundromat attendant (who was adamantly watching Ford's funeral on the all Spanish station) immediately threw the circuit breaker for the machine and took the other guy's stuff out. I got a look, and the funeral blared on.

I left and bought some dirt. 55cents a cup at the corner hardware store. See, I have a guest coming this weekend, and I think I need to re-pot a plant on the windowsill before he gets here. I think I need to clean the sofa cushions, and clean the bed which he will not be getting into, and buy more toilet paper and sweep the floors and clean the kitchen and clean the fridge...etc etc.

I should be writing my essays for grad school. I carry a copy in my pocket and stare at it where ever I go. I should be working on my essay and the images I need to drop off at the photo place on Broome which makes nice slides for 3 bucks a pop with the coupon I have. I should be thinking entirely about what to tell these schools, about what I have and what they want. I shouldn't be trying to prepare for imminent arrival of old ghosts while keeping my impatient and dramatic family at an arms length until after all these stamps get used.

But I am. I'm not returning phone calls or emails. I'm not hanging out tonight with all the people who are suddenly in town. My sofa is reluctant to hold you, and I probably am not answering the phone. I forwarded your emails to my therapist and maybe I'll respond after she and I discuss them next week.

I met A. in a bar where she was blowing off after-work steam to discuss the essay in the glow of a blacklight until the jerks at the air hockey table were yelling too loud for us to talk about art. We went to a starbucks, where they microwaved some pre-cooked egg and I ate a cookie. She thinks I'm close to done, and that I should tell everyone else "no" until I take care of what I need to do. I think she's right. I'm adding a sentence that reads, "This painting examines the intersection of how we learn from our parents and how we learn from our own sense of wonder."

real estate

2007-01-02T13:39:00.000-05:00

In 2006 my parents sold their house. The real estate agent bought a painting of mine that was in that house. It was nothing important, just a figure study I made in college. The woman told my mom that she wanted to sink her teeth into the round ass of the figure in the painting. She also said she'd been looking for something like that painting for years, to hang in her bedroom.

Yesterday Mom called with that concerned sound in her voice. Apparently the real estate lady got into some fight with her girlfriend, and shot the woman three times before killing herself. Mom said, " I thought she was a nice lady, I had no idea she was capable of this. I don't know what will happen to your painting though. I wonder why she even had a gun in the house. "

I wonder why Mom reads the obituaries on her days off. I hope the blood didn't get on the painting, but that's someone else's worry. A little soap and water should work.

the short list 2006

2006-12-30T17:51:00.001-05:00

The Amazing

James Brown

Betty Friedan

Wilson Pickett

Coretta Scott King

Gordon Parks

June Pointer

James A Van Allen (physicist)

Anita O'Day

Joe Barbera (of Hanna-Barbera)

The Criminal

Saddam Hussein

Augusto Pinochet

Kenneth Lay (Enron Founder)

The Idiot

Steve Irwin

Scrap Gold Pile

2006-12-30T16:38:00.000-05:00

Three good things came of my holiday season.

1. I watched my old roommate's oldest friend burn a huge stack of gift boxes on christmas night, right after she came home with them. Something incredibly cathartic happened in seeing all those present boxes flame up in her suburban fireplace while my old roommate told me what wasn't classified about the section of the government she's currently working for.

Sometimes I think more of my friends are spies than aren't. And it's nice to watch gift boxes burn, and think about how I never want to be involved in this kind of holiday again.

2. I walked into my oldest friend's parent's house, to hear her mother shriek with joy that my hair is now cut like it was when I was eight years old.

3. A relative gave me some jewelry that is rather meaningful to her, and in turn, me. To rough up some of the tenderness of the gift, she informed me that she was giving it to me so that it wouldn't end up, after her death, in another relative's "scrap gold pile". I'm glad to have alleviated her concern about the other relative becoming a pirate and melting down rather precious and sentimental heirlooms of the family.

Yes, she said "scrap gold pile". And she meant it. Bless her heart.

Make magazine I love you so.

2006-12-20T23:11:00.000-05:00

The only copy I have of Make Magazine is volume 5. By "have" I mean, I lent it to my therapist- it means that much to me. It's the one with instructions on how to build your own wind-energy generator for less than 500 bucks. There are tons of other things in there, but that is #1 in impressing little ms.me. It was given to me by a guy named Jeff.

Some fine attributes about Jeff:

introduced me to Make Magazine.
sublets his sweet little cheap apartment to my man-friend and I, for very little money in a really ideal local.
left the 3-keg kegerator in the kitchen when he moved
makes good homebrew
is easy to talk to, even for 5 hours in a sports bar on a dead saturday night
self-identifies as "sleazy" but isn't.
knows more about Futurama than my own boyfriend
plays board games you haven't heard of
left green lantern and "bite me fan boy" pins in the most strange places in this apt
owns part of a fancy coffee bar/lifestyle center in Chicago where he now lives

But Jeff aside, there's make.

I've fallen in love with Make magazine. (see the scrolling feed at the bottom of the page, oh yes, that's make feed. ) And they sent me a christmas present. I bought several subscriptions for people's holiday presents, and one of them was supposed to get the Make Reference guide. Instead they sent it to me, the billing address. And I LOVE IT.

Ask me anything. Standards, measures, conversions. If there's a reference chart I think it's in there.

I'm utterly amazed.
And I'm awaiting my subscription, hoping that the gift ones don't all arrive on my doorstep.

inception

2006-12-20T22:53:00.000-05:00

After weeks of trying to explain myself in 500 words or less, I've decided that Shaw is right on many things. The least of which is that I too should have a blog, and not just the blog on myspace which I was informed "doesn't count" or my project blog which I've been told also "doesn't count" and hasn't had a new post in 6 months.

The title Our Wonder World comes from a 1914 encyclopedia that I'm in love with. I love it's obvious failures in fact checking, I love its strange illustrations, I love its questions, I love its answers, I love its unapologetic world view. I even love its fonts and page quality.

It is a series of 11 volumes, titles following:

Vol. 1 The World and its Peoples
Vol. 2 Invention and Industry
Vol. 3 The Nature Book
Vol. 4 Exploration, Adventure, and Achievement
Vol. 5 Every Child's Story Book
Vol. 6 Sports and Pastimes, Indoors and Out
Vol. 7 Amateur Handicraft
Vol. 8 Story and History
Vol. 9 The Mother's Home Book
Vol. 10 The Quiz Book
Vol. 11 The Wonder of Life

Now I've only ever encountered Vol. 1, which totally changed my life. The images I found in this testament-to-a-time past were so compelling that I began to use them as backgrounds for my paintings. Using artifacts like children's encyclopedias in my work is a fundamental strategy of mine. How can I make work about our culture that has no physical element of our culture in it? Na. But also, I love how they look. I've been trying to purchase the other ten volumes on Abes, but either they're way too expensive, or they cancel my order when the shop can't find the books. I'm still kicking myself for the day that I saw them all in the thrift store in Baltimore and didn't buy them all at once, but instead just the first, which maybe was all I could handle at the time.

I digress about the purchasing of encyclopedias.

So here I go, with my new all general blog about the world as I see it, or find it, or experience it, or like it.