PULL THE BRAKE, PUT IT IN PARK.

There's this type of NO PARKING sign. Remember?

And then there's this type of NO PARKING signage.





Which makes you want to park immediately and then die inside your car.





Or gun it in at topspeed, blasting the signage to splinters and dust.

Room as metaphor for life:

DIE MAX JOHNSON

I was awakened at a shrill 9AM this morning by the ringing of my home phone.

Now, my phone number is prone to spammy calls because I apparently inherited the number from a major debtor. All the time, I get calls for Serita Cantana (or some name like that, I can't remember) and have to explain I am not her. Unfortunately, I'm sure that's EXACTLY what Serita Cantana would say if she herself spoke to the debtors.

So, 9AM, the phone rings. My eyes pop open up in my loft bed, but like I said, I'm up in a loft bed--so I don't move for the ladder. The message is a man with a booming moviephoney voice, but crank up the rich kid. Crank the rich guy accent and that is the voice that is shooting vocal bullets into my ears as I writhe helplessly in my lofted bed.

He says something like: "HI!!!! THIS IS MAX JOHNSON!!!! CONGRATULATIONS!!!!!!! YOU REMEMBER THAT CONTEST YOU ENTERED???? (no.) YOU WON!!!!! YOU WILL RECIEVE AN ESCALADE OR $50,000 OR EXOTIC VACATIONS. ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS CALL 1-800-BLA-BLAH and use reference #1968."

When I finally descended, climbing down my loftbed ladder, I was filled with rage (nothing to do with Max Johnson, I am just a furious person). I call the number. It's a stupid series of pre-recorded messages (the first thing you hear is a woman with a ton of smile in her voice saying CONGRATULATIONS! Just jampacked with dishonesty and joy. I hope she goes to hell in a small handbasket crammed with her and her boy Max Johnson). Finally, at the end of a long string of them, is an operator. I tell her to remove me.

I also asked her for MAX JOHNSON'S home phone number. Real casual. "Oh, also, could I get Max Johnson's phone number?"

HI MAX JOHNSON! IT'S CHELSEA PERETTI. HOW ARE YOU? CONGRATULATIONS--IT IS 5AM! CONGRATTY GRATTY GRATULATIONS! MAX!!!!!!! JOHNSON!!!!!!!! YOU DID IT! YOU WON THE 5AM GOOD SLEEPER AWARD. YOU GET A MANSION, MAX, A ZILLION DOLLARS, A VINTAGE TYPEWRITER AND A GOLDEN WHISTLE!!! TOOOT TOOOOOT TWEEEEEET TWEEET TWEET! THAT'S THE WHISTLE, RIGHT NOW. TWEEEEEET, TWEET, TWEET, TWEET. ENJOY YOUR RICHES, MAN, YEAH! TWEET TWEET TWEET. TWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET! Tweet. TWEEEEEETY TWEET TWEET. (DRUMS.) BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM. (TAMBORINES.) SHISSH SHISSH SHISSH SHISSH SHISSH! (WHISTLE) TWIGGITY TWEET TWEEEEET TWEET TWEET.

etc. etc.

Office Dog Obsession Verges on Brink of Mental Disability

Bone tired.



Stand by your man.



School picture.



Hey! Just sign on the dotted line, this is great dog insurance, trust me.

Mmmmm....yumm.

My friend Tai is an amazing cook. (He's my old roommate but he hates it when I introduce him as my old roommate to people.) Anyhow, he can COOK and eating a meal with him in his apartment is one of my favorite things to do, though we don't do it often.

Here's a pre-meal shot.


I was so busy eating I forgot to take any other ones, but we ate:

Stirfried greenbeans with onions.

Stirfried Eggplant with all kinds of stuff in it (garlic, red sauce, soy).

Silky soft tofu cut into cubes, uncooked, with a sliced, browned garlic cooked in oil and soy sauce poured over the top, and scallion cut up all over it.

White rice.

Tofu is so good that way. You should try it.

Okay! Seems responsible!

Other posters on deck for Stoli:

To my job. Oh, shit, I forgot I got fired a long time ago.
(Enjoy Stoli Responsibly.)

Whoah! How did I drive myself home last night?? That's crazy.
(Enjoy Stoli Responsibly.)

Why don't my parents give me a bigger allowance? Those fucking dicks are always trying to control me.
(Enjoy Stoli Responsibly.)

Pregnant schmegnant!
(Enjoy Stoli Responsibly.)

We did a little writing offsite today,

which always brings the spirits up.

You may be a boring hipster if...

You hate country music but love Johnny Cash.

You were popular in the 80's.

You wear only vintage clothes--to the point where you have an authentically retro swimsuit.

You named your dog Nietzsche or The Dog.

What am I?

What...am...I?


Well...

You see...

I am:



A New York City dragonfly!!!!!!!!! AHAHAHAHA ha HA! I live on a brownstone in downtown Manhattan. I am crazy. I have fierce jaws. Of course, fierce is relative! My jaws seem all the more FIERCER...if you are A FLY or mosquito! AHA-hah-ahahaha-HA HAH!

I am ancient and known to have lived 300 million years ago. My vision is excellent.

The grossest and best post ever.

From Andrea Harner: A reason to never wear flip-flops in New York. Ever. Ever, ever. Lord.

The long walk home

I walked along the water on my way out of Tribeca today and encountered a world that could only be decribed as Felliniesque...if I had more of an understanding of Fellini and what his films were like. As this is not the case, let's just say all the scope of humanity seemed to be captured in this tiny little western waterside strip.

First: skater boys silhouetted against the early evening sky.
In the water below them: many tens of kayakers riding atop medium-sized undulating swells. Okay, New York, way to get active--I had you pegged all wrong!

Not ten steps later, I happen upon an outdoor trapeze school session.


This woman dismounted from the platform, hooked her legs on the bar, dropped her arms, and finally, jumped down into the net, all her classmates cheering for her smooth performance below. See, here she is, gliding through the air:


After her, was a sort of pudgy guy who looked much less comfortable up there. He looked, well, scared. And I was really rooting for him. His shaky dismount was followed by not being ready to release his arms on the first swing so having to swing back toward the platform again to do it. Meanwhile, I am beginning to tear up. My eyes are filling, my heart is swelling. I'm thinking stuff like: "We humans are such sad sweet animals...we all have fears, but we keep trying to conquer them" and thinking about the whole "scope of humanity" thing again and then realize--what the fuck am I doing.

I keep walking. Then I come upon all these gay couples hanging out, near where Christopher St. hits the water, another scene I was completely unaware of.

And then a bit later, I hear bass. Drum and bass?! I look around and there's an outdoor stage with two DJs on it. I was even able to register to vote on my way in.


Turns out, it's a free concert with Ming and FS. The crowd was so cobbled together and odd that I was a little uneasy. Not because it was gangsterish, but because it was like some 40 year old woman spinning in circles with a fanny pack, and some curly-headed blond jewish guy in his 20's who kept dancing and nodding and smiling at everyone. And a couple teen-agers with mod hair. A puertorican. That type of crowd. Indicative of lax PR.


But...I haven't heard dnb or breaks in so long and I was so happy to be hearing it, no matter what the scenario, that I eventually joined the fun. (Here, they were playing live along with the tracks.)


Outfitted in a horrible early morning mistake that involved a red backpack and pigtails, I was out there happily dancing with the best of them.

You read this blog, maybe you were there too. Meaning you are a freak.

ALERT: PEDICURE UPDATE

Sooo...it's been a bit since my Rescue 911 pedicure. Let's take a look at my progress...

Not so bad, right? Still pretty in pink.


Moving inward, let's close in on the big toe:


The pinky toe sure is tiny, but don't be deceived, she packs a crusty punch:


So much for the glitz and glam of yesterday.

Pasta alla Peretti

This picture captures exactly how crazed I feel when eating a tasty bowl of pasta.

It's not what you say...

I have never before seen a no parking sign that actually lulled me into a state of agreement. Most are red and bold and immediately irritate you, conjuring parking tickets, meter maids, chalked tires...



This one is so sleek, so understated. It really makes you want to not park. Not parking seems like an attractive thing to do, what the cool people are not doing.

Nixing of ideas--now in SPRAY form!

At the videogame all day we write characters, jokes, and concepts. We are constantly nixing each other's ideas. Eventually, other people get involved and nix our collective ideas. Verbal nixing can be so taxing...

THEN:
At market this evening, something caught my eye.



Now, when you want to nix an idea, don't waste your breath! You can do it in spray form.




EASY TO USE:

Listen carefully... Consider...
Adjust nozzle to appropriate intensity of nix...
And pull trigger!

AND, VOILA: Dead in the water.

I want critical acclaim like the 3 penny!

YAY!

I don't know where I was during the 80's because I don't connect with any of the nostalgia (maybe it's more something that people who were popular as kids do).

JEM is the one thing I see and am filled with joy. Look how j u i c y these images are. Colors, style. The song...EVEN THE LOGO is a real treat.

Drink it in. OUTRAGEOUS. Truly, truly outrageous.

Let's revisit the cuteness of this pic.

You talk too much.

Saw Before Sunset today.

W-o-w.

Reminded me of this certain MC from 2step parties who would literally never shut his mouth throughout the ENTIRE song. Blah blah blah. He would never stop and let the music speak for itself. He never let you anticipate or yearn for his voice, song after song.

These two just talked for the entire movie, solid.

I found myself wishing they would follow the extras a bit. Wait! "Man with hose" what's his story??!

(If you are going to see it, here's a tip for how to enjoy the movie more: when one of them is talking and the shot is over the shoulder of the other one, imagine that when it goes for a reverse reaction shot--it turns out the other one is sleeping! That does make it more fun for a bit.)

COMMENTS--

You all are so interesting with your comments. I mean what makes you guys tick?

You post nothing on certain posts, but then you see the "Well Trained" post and you fucking lose your minds with thoughts and opinions! But...let me say I need 8 hours sleep, or let me post a photo essay about the office dog ("I Beg Your Pardon") and it is no comments all around. "No comments--for the table!"

Zero. 0. Zed. Nein. 0 comments.

Then there's the anonymous thing. Why so many? Why not put your name? I don't really mind it unless you're being threatening or negative and aggressive, but just so you know, I do wonder who you are. Then again, I have a feeling it may be better for me not to know. At present, I imagine you all to be my ideal demographic.

Then there's also the, probably harmless, "crazy chelsea" poster. Why? Why take the time to create an anonymous, barely entertaining persona in the comments section of someone's blog? Just seems like there'd be other things to do.

(Hm. Let me guess what you'll write in response...uh..."Crazy chelsea how are you today?" or maybe "Hi crazy chelsea." GOOD ONES, in advance!)

Finally, I hate that sometimes comments double or triple post. Then I go to delete and it says "this comment has been removed by the author." I do like that I'm being called an "author" because I took advantage of a free online set-up, but other than that find this italicized eraser-mark irritating. Thanks for the announcement, Blogger, way to keep things honest between me and my readers.

What if I didn't allow comments on this post?

Tentative and flexible!

This is an email from a friend who's coming into town. One of the few crowning moments of my life was slowly pouring a glass of water on him at a diner.
 
Hello new york friends,
 
as some of you know i will be arriving in new york on saturday for a very unfortunately short less-than-48-hour trip.
 
there are so many things i want to do in new york, so much food i want to eat, so many places and people i miss. time management is going to be key.
 
what i'm going to do is give you a very tentative schedule of what i'm thinking of doing right now with my limited time. it will probably change. plans are flexible.
 
 
saturday
11:00 - arrival in jfk
12:00 - get out of customs and crap and take subway into the city
13:30 - arrival in manhattan
14:00 - drop off things wherever i'm going to sleep (probably upper west side near columbia)
15:00 - meet people somewhere for brunch (a little late, but i might be able to be there earlier depending on how things go)** - need a brunch suggestion. my main requirement is reasonable place and good bloody marys (ideally unlimited, but that's hard)
17:00 - do some shopping/walking around/gallery hopping/drink tea. probably around the chelsea/23rd st. area or soho
20:00 have a group dinner at either a good burger/steak/brazilian or pizza place. (those are the 3 food groups from new york i miss the most, assuming i will have some kickass sushi in tokyo)
22:30 - do some serious new york partying at a still undetermined place. (i need suggestions, up-to-date info on where would be good. ideally a place with no cover and affordable drinks, but also a place with great music and a dancefloor where we can do some serious dancing)

sunday
13:00 - group brunch. different place. maybe further downtown
16:00 - shopping visit to b&h.
17:00 - maybe a little more shopping and walking around. a different neighbourhood than saturday. / maybe central park
18:00 - have tea / coffee somewhere nice
20:30 - group dinner somewhere still to be determined
22:30 - relaxed drinks somewhere chill because most of you will have work on monday and i wake up by 5am on monday
24:00 - go home and sleep a little
 
 
see you soon new york!

Google research pays off!

I found this pic of a friend...and to my surprise discovered he had been a child actor!!! Woooo-ahh-aaaahahaahahahahaha-ha!



He said: "I just sort of fell into it."

(see pic above and imagine the kid saying this).

Things I would say...

If I had a friend named Taylor, and he was always getting on my case, I would always be saying:

"Hey, Taylor, can you cut me some slacks!?"

Well Trained

Here are the train lines organized from my FAVORITE to my LEAST FAVORITE:

FAVORITE
4/5/6 (green)
N/R/Q (yellow)
A/C/E (blue)
L (grey)
1/9 (red)
BDF (orange!)
LEAST FAVORITE

I realized this morning that I strongly dislike the F train, and avoid it all the time. If there's a way I can take the N/R instead, I am on it.

Same with the 1/9. Always feel a sense of dread when I know I have to take the 1/9. Don't even get me going on the 2/3 aspect of this.

I think the colors must play into it. Or do the train lines adversely affect my feelings toward COLORS?! Because I feel very distant towards orange.

I do love that the L train is gray, but it's limited usefulness and occasional late-night fuckyouery brings it down in the rankings.

Avoid the F train at all costs.

And MTA workers, before you write me letters saying "I have such and such personal connection to such and such train, can't you move it up into such and such ranking..." The answer is NO.

Non-partisan, non-partisan, non-partisan.

8 hours sleep

I need 8 hours sleep to be truly happy. 7 I can do for a bit and be okay. 6 is hell. Anything less than six and I'm barely functional unless I know I can nap and sleep in, almost immediately.

If you need less than 6, I almost feel like you should stop reading my blog.

How can we relate?

I feel like you're lying.

HISTORICAL CHRONICLES OF A DOODLER

(We see a dated doodler's hand, perhaps with a lacy cuff, scribbling handwritten scrawl into a journal...)

Historical Narrative Voiceover:

My doodling leaves me famished...but yet I cannot stop...

(The hand doodles, and doodles some more. It pauses above the page...then doodles again. Sad historical music plays, indicating the severity of this particular history. More doodles.)

Humming, HUMMIN' ATCHA!

Why isn't society more intolerant of humming?

It's a powertrip.

"I am going to sit not even an inch away from you, right beside you on the train and just make noises through my closed mouth for the duration of the ride. Depending on what mood I’m in they might be really high and piercing or gravelly, melodramatic and low. I think you should have to listen to that and join me in my mood.”

Why don’t you just talk openly about your emotions out loud on the train? You obviously want everyone to know what’s going on with you right now. Why don’t you just say: “Hey, guys, I’m feeling a little bit sad because I can’t pay my rent this month” or "Work was really getting me down this afternoon, guys" or "I'm feeling annoyingly triumphant today!"

Or whatever your hum means.

Humming is almost always a passive aggressive form of communication.

Sing! Speak! Be silent!

Right?

Not the time for this behavior

When a waiter in a busy restaurant is hunched beside your table, efficiently jotting down your party's requests, that is probably not the time to start sloooowly showboating your wit with a joke about sideorders or with some clever instances of wordplay.

A waiter is not a nomadic one-man audience, Uncle BLANK.* Your slow talking, your significant grins, your twinkling eyes, your pauses...what are you proving? Are you making a friend? What are we doing?

Time is standing still. It's unclear who you think you're impressing, or charming or doing a favor, but time is tipped on it's side, halted in the wait. Hey, how 'bout an anecdote? Let's get into a real slow roaster.

*Anyone doing this is acting like an uncle.

Also, I sometimes do this.

Quotes

"There is nothing permanent except change."

"Moderation in all things, including moderation."

"O Time, thou must untangle this, not I; It is too hard a knot for me t'untie."

Beg your pardon...

A gentle, fixed pair of eyes.


Relax, forget I'm even here. It's all you. You and your lunch.


You chew good! That seems like a great lunch. Hey, you got your lunch and I got mine right here beside me. Only difference is, mine is a decoy.


Hm, whatcha snackin' on? Got a little bite goin? I hear ya, I hear ya.


Aw, shit--NACHOS! Ok, I see how you're playin' it.


Evolution has allowed me an "angel face" or the "face of a saint" when I'm visiting with a friend with NACHOS.


Let's take a closer look. See what I mean? My eyes are saintly and face filled with honor. I'm an old soldier, weary but proud. My cocked ear like the tip of a hat to a bygone time.


Hey what's up guys? Just eating some grub in there? Tell me about it! Hey let me in and we can get right into some hot breath on your leg.

Spiderman 2

There's this great part in Spiderman 2 where the human spider has briefly lost his powers. He has to try to work them back up. To train himself, he runs on top of a building at full speed toward another rooftop across the street.

Mid-air he screams triumphantly: "I'm back! I'm back!"

Then he begins to suddenly fall and grabs onto some things that break the fall. When he lands he then groans: "My back! Oh, my back!"

A clever, well-earned turn of phrase and turn of circumstance.

Supposedly Tobey had to study all this old borscht belt humor and train with the old greats and stuff to do his behind-the-scenes for this great payoff.

Woodstock Photo Recap

First item to check off the photo recap checklist: Gal pals!

I wonder what each of us were thinking about inside our heads at the time someone captured THIS crazy candid shot.



Tent with a view...imagine looking out at these tree-trunks during lovemaking.


An age-old, treasured tableau...MEN AND FIRE!


Finally:

A new band born: Blue Eye Pierce and the Never Smilings!

Get on their BAND EMAIL LIST!

Buffet style food

Remember, when you go to eat at a buffet with a group of pals, REMEMBER, that the buffet style eating STOPS once the tray hits the table.

The second the tray hits the table, the contents of said tray are no longer to be eaten "buffet style" and are the property of the person who selected each item.

Feeling Independent?

Happy weekend, losers.

I'm in Woodstock, so if anyone wants to try to rob my apartment, you'll only have to fight and incapacitate my roommate. Also, I have few valuables and it's a 6th floor walk-up.

More later, stay cool,
Chelsea

Iced coffee--ATTACKED!

Really, what is the point of iced coffee on a hot day. I try to get it, but I really don't. Coffee tastes better hot and is obviously a dehydrating beverage.

It's not any more thirst-quenching iced with a straw stuffed into it.

I know there will be many of you furious with this post. But this is my blog, and my policy is to explore my own inner workings here, without concern for the opinions or feelings of others worldwide.



Congratulations go out to Saddam Hussein for maintaining his Presidency in Iraq, no matter what!!

Fame's a bitch!