I have lived in my apartment for eight months, and this morning was the first time I was able to take a hot shower. I didn’t really notice the lack of warm water until winter set in, and I chalked it up the cold weather, or the snow, or the rain, or the lack of sun, or anything else I could think of.

It wasn’t until last night that it occured to me that maybe I was the one doing something wrong. I casually asked roomate Sarah to show me how SHE uses the shower, and yes, America, the pain and suffering of taking ice cold showers could have been avoided. It was all my fault. I am simultaneously the smartest and dumbest person I know.

There are approximately sixteen billion people in this world (give or take) and they have all figured out how to use a shower, while I have remained out in the cold… literally. All I have to say for myself is that I have a lot of talents and skills and I am going to go really far in this world… as long as I don’t have to turn on a faucet to get there.


I know my posts have been a little New York-Centric lately, but I am about to give you another one. I was lucky enough to see the show “Fuerza Bruta” Sunday night, and I couldn’t recommend it more highly. It is like a rave with a side of performance art and a smidge of Cirque de Soleil. Don’t even bother wearing socks, because they will certainly be blown off . The staff even makes you check in your coats and bags before you enter the theatre. Fuerza Bruta isn’t typical in any way, and is one hundred percent worth the trip out of your comfort zone.


Fuerza Br-illiant-a

Fuerza Br-illiant-a


The show won’t be running forever, so catch it while you can!

I’ve lived in New York for almost six years now, and have run into the same person from time to time in various different locations. This usually wouldn’t be anything of note, except said person is Keenya from an early season of America’s Next Top Model, which is probably still nothing of note. 


Nothing of Note

Nothing of Note



The first couple of times I ran into her, I really had no more than a reaction of, “Huh.” But one time, I spoke to her. We were sharing a pole on the subway, and there were a bunch of girls behind us obviously pointing and whispering about the semi-famous Miss Keenya. I couldn’t resist asking her if the situation was weird, and she confirmed for me that it indeed was. 

So fast forward to this past Saturday. I am in line at Forevs 21, and there she is again. This brings the Keenya Count to five or six. At this point we should at least be saying hi, but then again, this is Keenya we are talking about, so I will probably just say “Huh,” and move on.

I haven’t spilled food on myself in at least a month… What’s going on here?

Now that “The Real World: Brooklyn” is underway, I have stayed surprisingly mum about my feelings on it. At this point, all I want to say is that the line between documenting “real life” and having producers steer where cast members’ “real lives” go is getting really blurry. Also, you can only see the shot of the Fairway trashcan so many times before you want to change the channel.

That said, a man on the subway asked me today if I used to be on The Real World, but like a total dummy, I didn’t ask him who he thought I was. Based on hair style and presence of bangs, I have narrowed it down to two people:






I am hoping for Sarah.

There is a great great great blog out there that ya’ll need to take a look at. A thorough, deep, intense look in the butt… at tumblr… dotcom. You can also buy the “in the butt” stickers by emailing tumblinthebutt@gmail.com. Do it!

Sarah and Evan present: Inthebutt.tumblr.com…

On Saturday there was a clown in my subway car.

He was in full clowny garb and running bits on the passengers. Being the person that I am, I sat down right across from him and spent the whole ride pretending not to be staring and taking in every single word. Good thing I had my book… (which was set in a circus, oddly enough.)

At the start of the train ride, he was mid-way through making a balloon dog for a young boy whose mom had plopped him on the clown’s lap. I guess the bright clothing and crazy makeup made it okay for her to hand her child over to some strange man. 

After they got off (the train, gutterbrains) the clown continued on, looking for other passengers to engage. He succeeded with a particularly tough looking woman, who had perfected the New York FU stare. Lady straight up sat next to him and at his prodding, gave him a hug. All it took was a joke about how he wasn’t always a clown… he used to be a midget.

Then, a bookish looking woman got on the train and placed herself right in front of the clown. She was practically begging him to talk to her, and guess what… he did. He told her she would look good with green lipstick. She asked him why, and his response was “because that is what I am wearing.” Whose the creeper now?

Not soon after, the clown was on his way some children’s party, and normalcy returned to my commute. I returned to the book I had been pretending to read, while everyone else starting silently composing their anecdotes about the time there was a clown on their train. Everyone except for the two women, who had… other… things to talk about.