Archive for the ‘General’ Category

Looking For Transients?

Tuesday, May 8th, 2007

Windsor Garage Transients, originally uploaded by emilyrems.

I suggest the Upper East Side! In other vintage NYC neon news, I returned home from band practice on Sunday night to find an intriguing phone message waiting for me from one Cassi Feldman of the New York Times. She is the reporter who first did the Times story about the tragic death of Reginald Chan, the owner of East Village landmark Jade Mountain, who was killed last September by a truck while making a bike delivery. I guess the family bailed after his death, so now Jade Mountain, a 2nd Avenue fixture since 1931, is closing, and with it is going their evocative neon signage, which is what brings Cassi to me now. A year or so ago, I blogged about how much I love the Jade Mountain sign, and Cassi found this blog entry while researching the sign to see if anyone would care that it’s going to come down (surely to be replaced with a Chase or a Starbucks or something equally douchey). So I called Cassi back and I said YES! It makes me WISTFUL that it’s coming down! Alas! Alack! Listen to me! I’m a cranky old Jew whose neighborhood is being destroyed! So now I think I’m going to be quoted in her Times article this coming Sunday. Check it out and share the wist or whatevs.

Sunday Morning Baby Dream

Sunday, May 6th, 2007

In my dream this morning, I was on a retreat with the WoW Women’s Theatre Collective I used to be an active member of from about 2001-2004. They had chosen for their retreat spot a funny little encampment on the outskirts of an old amusement park. We weren’t the only ones there. Lots of punks and artists and young, hip weirdos were out and about, some of them with small children, wandering in and out of a cluster of multipurpose buildings that had apparently been abandoned by the amusement park and were now being used as squats. In our building, where we planned to put our sleeping bags on the floor, a band of cute indie boys was playing a set of blues music on a dirty blue oriental carpet. I really liked their music, and the lead singer was super sexy, and kept eyeing me as I danced to his songs in the back. I wanted to hear them play longer, but I had to go back to work, so I slipped out the back.

After work, I returned to the shack and the blues boys were still playing, only this time, they were shut up in a room next to where they were playing before, and people who wanted to hear their set had to gather outside the door to listen. I asked why they were plaing inside the small room, and one of the WoW girls said it was because the lead singer had stagefright. I found this very endearing since I get stagefright at rock shows too. After the set, the boys emerged from the room and we all applauded, then the crowd dispersed and the WoW girls left to cook dinner. I was going to join them but the hot lead singer came over to me and asked me to stay. I had never spoken to him before, but the first words out of his mouth were “I love you and I want to marry you.” I blushed and giggled. He pulled me towards him and deeply inhaled the scent of my neck. He said I smelled good, and I said he smelled good too. There in the middle of the room, he pulled me down onto the floor and started alternately hugging me and smelling me. In a flash, I remembered LCF, and knew I shouldn’t be on the floor, letting this boy hug and smell me. I looked over his shoulder through the window and started laughing. He jumped off me and asked if I was laughing at him. I said I wasn’t and pointed out the window. Through the window, we could see two tilt-a-whirls in the amusement park going simultaneously. In one, a bunch of pink-cheeked fat families were spinning around and screaming together. In the other, the same thing was going on, except everyone on the ride was dressed in a big fluffy panda costume. It was so funny I couldn’t stop laughing, and the singer took this as a sign I didn’t want to make out, which I actually didn’t because of LCF, so he took off.

I walked outside and saw a little baby girl toddling by on the dirt path in front of our hut. She was wearing only a diaper, and I was afraid she would step on something sharp, so I picked her up. When I first picked her up I was aware of having seen her with her mom before, and felt confident I would recognize her mom if I saw her so I could give the baby back, but I didn’t see anyone around, and the more I walked around, the less sure I was that I had actually seen this baby’s mother at all. The baby was pink and warm and soft, and smelled better than anything I’ve ever smelled in my life. I kept cuddling her closer, and smelling her little neck, just like the singer had been doing to me, only that was sorta sexual and this was clearly not. At first when I passed people, I would ask if they knew who the girl’s mom was, but they would always shake their heads no. I stopped at a tree stump, because sitting on the tree stump was an elaborate black box with a crystal pyramid mounted on top of it. The bottom of the box said “Vinnie’s Tampon Case” on it, and inside the pyramid were a few tampons made out of black velvet, some silver ball bearings, and some highly polished black stones. When I shook he case, eveything rolled around and sometimes an object would settle into a little circular groove cut out of the floor of the box, like in those cardboard pinball games I would sometimes get as a kid. I wondered if the case belonged to the baby’s mom, because the baby seemed to recognize it, but when she saw it, she grabbed on to me tighter and turned her head away from the box like it frightened her. I held her tighter too, smelled her some more, and walked away from the box towards the smell of food.

I carried the baby over to the park’s concession area where a guy who looked like Alec Baldwin was grilling buffalo wings. The smell was so spicy it made my eyes water, and I was about to walk away when the guy called out, “Hey! Do you know Edward Norton?” I said I didn’t know him personally, but I really liked Fight Club. The guy shouted to me over the sound of sizzling chicken that Edward was the love of his life, and sex with Edward was the best sex he ever had. Another guy who was waiting for chicken heard this, and shouted that the guy cooking was full of shit because everyone knew Edward Norton wasn’t gay. A red-haired lady who was also working the buffalo wing stand chimed in that she had also had sex with Edward Norton, and that it was also the best sex she had ever had. I pulled the baby closer and covered her head with my hands, because I didn’t want the spice to burn her eyes and I wasn’t sure she should be hearing this conversation. I told the skeptical guy waiting that I didn’t know Edward Norton at all, but if he had slept with both the guy and the lady working the buffalo wing stand that he might just be bi or experimental or whatever. The skeptical guy walked away, disgusted, without any chicken, and I woke up holding my pillow like it was a baby.

F-A-M-O-U-S!!!!

Thursday, April 26th, 2007
Care Bears in TIME OUT!!!!, originally uploaded by emilyrems.

Oh smack! I’m pissing myself because my play, “Lil’ Care Bear Crash” got a full page in Time Out New York this week!!!! Page 12!!! Of course it’s not just MY play. My genius friend Ian and I adapted and directed that crappy movie Crash that won the Best Picture Oscar two years ago into a ten minute play acted out by Care Bears for the Ontological’s Tiny Theater Festival. Now it’s being expertly rehearsed by my other Cherry Red homies Judith, Stacey/Johnny Kat, and Sung for it’s mad, mad mad debut next week! Check it out if you dare:

TINY THEATER is a theater, dance, dance-theater, puppet-theater, object-theater, installation piece that takes place in 6′ x 6′ x 6′ or smaller and in under 10 mins.
Ontological Performances:
Thursday, May 3 @ 7p.m.
Friday, May 4 @ 7p.m. and 10p.m.
Saturday, May 5 @ 7p.m.
$15/$10 student admission
Ontological Theater
St. Mark’s Church
131 east 10th street and 2nd ave
new york city, 10003
4/5/6 to astor place
4/5/6/N/R/W/Q/L to union square
L to 3rd or 1st Ave
enter at the back of the church and go up the stairs to the 2nd floor

Royal Peeps!

Friday, March 30th, 2007

Just when I thought that I had eeked the last drop of festivity out of my birthday, Karen showed up at band practice yesterday with a choco-liscious cake and this HILARIOUS diorama of our band made out of pink marshmallow peeps!!! She made a backdrop! The instruments are PINK! The lil’ bassists are holding cutouts of actual Daisy Rock basses!!!! I can’t even take it. When I first laid eyes on it, the craftiness was so intense I sheided my eyes for fear of being blinded by Karen’s dazzling talent. Unbelievable. Has anyone ever tried to shellack a marshmallow peep? Can I use spray mount?

This Is The Day Your Life Will Surely Change

Thursday, March 29th, 2007
5th Ave @ 14th St., originally uploaded by emilyrems.

I have many smart-ass comments to make regarding this event currently taking place in my office building, but maybe I shouldn’t be so flippant. What if the advertised baubles and shmatas actually can usher their wearers into a mystic communion with the fundamental nature of all reality? What if my snark is standing between me and the universal oneness only an overpriced hippie tank dress can provide? I wonder if they come in plus size…

Hot Dogs = Drumming Nightmares

Wednesday, March 28th, 2007
Emily High Sticking, originally uploaded by emilyrems.

Last night after work, LCF took me out for a romantical post-birthday-dinner of “Recession Specials” at Gray’s Papaya, and afterwards when I landed back on our couch, I drifted immediately off into a world of anxiety dreams. I know I have ‘em all the time anyway, but today I chose to blame the dawgs.

In my dream, I was in the tiny town in NY where I grew up because my parents had moved back into my childhood home, and they had invited Royal Pink to play a concert at the church/community center across the street from our old house. My whole band had lugged all of our equipment into the community room of the church where I used to take kiddie aerobics classes back in the day, and as I unpacked, I realized I had forgotten the bass pedal just like we did for real at our Lit Lounge gig last week. When I discovered I had forgotten it, I flew into a rage and started throwing all my cymbals around and throwing a temper tantrum. My band-mates were scared to come near me and my parents looked embarassed. Since there were no other bands on the bill besides us, I asked my dad to help me find a phone book and to help me find local music stores we could get to in time for the gig. My dad was helpful, but was also moving very slowly and kept getting distracted by other things so I got impatient with him and yelled at him and then felt incredibly guilty for yelling at him when he was trying to help. I was just about to start begging rides to look for a music store without him when someone from the congregation came over to me with a bass pedal she had taken off of her son’s kit when she heard about our difficulty. I was so grateful and so ashamed for acting like an asshole to everyone that I started crying big stressed out tears, and I was still crying when I woke up.

Karaoke Madness

Tuesday, March 27th, 2007

Back Door Man, originally uploaded by emilyrems.

Last night was a karaoke birthday for the record books. The fruity drinks flowed freely while 20-ish of my beloved friends kept the cordless mics busy for FOUR SOLID HOURS. As promised, I did indeed scream my way through Total Eclipse of the Heart with Callie early on, then sang duets with Logan and Moira and Karen before pulling out my secret weapon - Paul Revere by the Beastie Boys. Word. Some terrified family members also hit the spot - Auntie Bev and Uncle Stanley were in full effect and so was cousin Jared, which was all sweet and familial and whatnot. This was one of the easiest and most rambunctious parties I’ve ever thrown. We just pulled out the song books and let the alcohol and cupcakes and show biz magic do the rest. Thanks so much to everyone who came out and shamelessly sang with me. Why, oh, why are birthdays only once a year?

P.S. Will whoever sent me an ENTIRE BOX of Marshmallow Peep lollipop rings today please identify yourself???? You are the most awesome awesome who ever awesomed, but I have no idea who you are!!!!!

I wanna be the girl with the most cake

Monday, March 26th, 2007

Birthday Grrrl, originally uploaded by emilyrems.

This pic was snapped by LCF about an hour after I turned 32 this morning. I am nothing if not dignified. Being a surly mess isn’t that much fun at home though - so why not come out to the bar and get into some real trouble with me tonight?

Emily’s Karaoke Birthday Jam!
Monday, March 26
7-11 PM
The karaoke lounge downstairs at Lemongrass/Izu
9 E. 13th St. (btwn 5th Ave. & University Pl. NYC)
Cost: Free!
I’ll be distracting myself from my advancing age with fruity drinks and fruitier ‘80s power-ballads all night long tonight in this lounge underneath my fave Thai restaurant. We can sing all the songs we want for free, order Thai and Japanese munchies from upstairs, and since it’s a Monday, ladies can all drink for half-price! Yowza! I double-checked, and they definitely have the Karaoke version of Total Eclipse of the Heart, so you know at least one performance of the evening will be hauntingly beautiful.

Chick Lit

Friday, March 23rd, 2007

Lit Lounge Window, originally uploaded by emilyrems.

Royal Pink was in full effect at Lit Lounge last night and I’m still recovering. There was some weird kinda force field around that place that made the gig stressful and chaotic but also kinda awes. When we got there they wouldn’t let us in because the sound guy wasn’t there, so we were all piled up with all our gear in a booth by the front window doing our nails until someone finally gave the OK. Then as soon as we got downstairs, part of my drum equipment rolled irretrievably under the stage so we had to borrow a replacement. Then I got everything all unpacked and realized we had left the bass pedal behind so we had to borrow a replacement for that too (thank you Violets - THANK YOU!!!!) Then one of the bands after us loaded a giant digital drum setup onto half the stage, so I had to fold myself into a little origami paper crane to get behind the drum kit. Then LCF came in all flustered because he got static at the door. Then during our set I couldn’t hear any of what was going on because of the monitors and lost my place on the set list and started playing a totally different song from everybody else. But guess what??? After all that, it still turned out to be a rockin’ gig! There were hipsters a-plenty gettin’ down to our jams on the dancefloor, including my hot homo posse from college, and opening for the Violets is always a real treat for us because they are so super-glam. After the show and dinner, I don’t even remember immediately passing out alseep, but somehow I made it into bed still covered in pink glitter.

Once asleep, I had another endless nightmare. I was back in Israel, this time on vacation with my friend Ian. As we were getting ready to leave, I was informed by our hotel that because I was Jewish and had chosen to visit Israel twice in one year, I had automatically been enlisted in the Israeli army, starting immediately, and was required to remain in the army for the next three years. Ian was all, like, “Ahh Hah - Sucka!” because he was raised mormon and was free to go. But I was stuck, and freaking out. I spent what felt like days trying to figure out how to dodge the system and get back home. After tearfully navigating through a mountain of foreign red tape, and enduring mounting scorn by strangers who thought it was disgraceful that I didn’t want to serve, I was very grateful when the alarm went off this morning.

The Surreal Life

Wednesday, March 14th, 2007

Bergdorf Window #3, originally uploaded by emilyrems.

I was still a lil’ insomniac angst ball last night when LCF got home from work around 1 AM so he slipped me one of his Ambien and sent me to lala-land on the couch for a few hours before my early-morning dentist appointment. The pill worked great, but since I didn’t have long to rest before the alarm went off, I was still a space-case when I hit the scary dentists’ chair, and kept drifting in and out of a sharp, painful, liminal dreamscape where I knew I was being tortured but I wasn’t sure why. Once I got my release papers from the gestapo, I mean, hygenist, I shuffled back and forth past this Bergdorf’s window like a mental patient and got completely freaked out. Are these, or are these not, the scariest fucking ventriloquist dummies on the planet? Don’t they look totes ready to kill? Absolutment. I ran for my life from them after taking this picture and then groggily rolled up to work where this horror-scope was waiting for me:

FREE WILL ASTROLOGY
Week beginning March 15
Copyright 2007 by Rob Brezsny
http://FreeWillAstrology.com
ARIES (March 21-April 19): Here you come dragging your exhausted but redeemed ass out of the deep dark forest of symbols. The red-eyed monkey demons fall off your back as you straggle toward the light. Your sunken eyes see wonders they were blind to before your ordeal. Your heart rages with a wild angelic love you’ve never tapped into before. And as you realize the magnitude of your tough miracle, you feel glimmers of gratitude for the rude tests you had to endure. Maybe you should get totally lost in limbo more often.

Yeah right. I’m soooooooo sure.

Kids say the darndest things

Tuesday, March 13th, 2007

I wasn’t gonna blog about this because I still feel somehow wounded and unnaturally upset by the whole thing, and I feel stupid for still feeling upset, but I can’t seem to concentrate today because of what happened yesterday. I was on the super-long, super-steep escalator at the Smith-9th stop in Brooklyn, on my way to a drum lesson with Caryn, and when I got about 1/4 of the way down a pack of 15-ish year old boys, rough-housing and being loud, started up the other escalator on the other side. I saw them look up and see me, and my heart sank. I looked away but it was too late. The biggest, loudest one started screaming at the top of his lungs about how his friend had a big cock and he was gonna shove it in me. I could feel myslef blushing, I kept looking away, but I also felt mad that some stupid kids were intimidating me. As they got closer, the kid got louder, and when we were paralell he screamed in my face that I was gonna get fucked so I gave him the finger. That set off a whole torrent of his friends being all like “Ooh - did you see that? She flipped you off!” So of course he started screaming that I was a “fat bitch,” and all his friends joined in. My stomach dropped and the striped escalator stairs started swimming in front of my eyes as vertigo took hold. I thought about snapping the kids’ pic and humiliating them on HollabackNYC, but I really felt like I was going to fall if I let go of the rail to reach for my camera, and every moment took them physically farther away while their voices boomed insluts at me through the tunnel. Basically the incident is typical if you’re a woman trying to go about her business alone in NYC, but it really freaked me out, and made me feel depressed and ashamed and made me cry while playing drums along with the Shangri-Las song “Out In The Street.” I guess there’s no point in dwelling on it. But I can’t seem to stop. As my BFF Han says, when teen boys yell crude stuff at you, no matter how old you are, it feels like you’re back in Junior High again. And being in Junior High is preferable only to being dead.

Behold…

Monday, March 12th, 2007

LCF + ER @ House of Blues, originally uploaded by emilyrems.

…the first picture of me, possibly ever, in which I am somewhat well-rested! I can actually sorta SEE my eyes behind my glasses! Thank you Atlantic City, for being so weird and sorta boring that I actually got my 8 hours of sleep-a-day (and ten at night) for a brief moment in time. Of course I was so wound up last night about returning to work that I was asleep by 4:30 AM and up by 7:45 AM. But whatevs. Nothing gold can stay. Except for Ponyboy. He always stays gold.

Atlantic City Morning

Tuesday, March 6th, 2007

Taj View #1, originally uploaded by emilyrems.

This was the first thing I saw out my window when I finally pried myself off the puffiest, most cloud-like hotel bed evs this morning. Sea, sand, sun, sky, tacky faux onion domes and creepy old kiddie rides frozen for winter. Heaven. My idea of intentionally fleeing New York for a place with no redeeming cultural value so I don’t feel compelled to do anything but max and relax is working like a charm so far. Since my arrival here all I’ve done is recline on a variety of soft surfaces, watch multiple episodes of Law & Order on the plasma TV, take a loooooong bubble bath, nosh on room service and cautiously investigate the bidet. My plans for today are more ambitious. They involve a foray to the spa, where I think I’ll force myself onto the treadmill first, then reward myself with jacuzzi, steam room and pool action. Maybe I’ll make it onto the casino floor, or actually out of the hotel at some point if I’m feeling wanderlust. But damn, that hotel bed sure is comfy. When one is used to waking up every morning in a cramped, messy, little closet-sized bedroom with bars on the windows and water dripping from the ceiling, panic stricken from nightmares after five fitful hours of daily rest, this kind of morning is a shock to the system. For the record, I still had my required dose of nightmares last night (involving pirates, and this really annoying dude from my High School named Paul), but they were somehow kinder, gentler nightmares, and when I woke up and looked around at my palatial hotel room, I didn’t give a shit about them anymore.

Five Things About The Rems

Friday, February 16th, 2007
Girl Scout Goth Badge, originally uploaded by emilyrems.

I’ve been challenged by Cokane to keep up this bloggy chain letter of personal revelation, so here ya go. Five things you may not know about me. In turn, I now challenge Errin, Jennigirl, Jessica, Claudia and Brandy to throw their closet doors open.
1. My Girl Scout badges were bought, not earned.
My scouting career was cruelly cut short at age 11 when my parents decided I had to start going to Hebrew school three days a week to get ready for my Bat Mitzvah. Not surprisingly, Hebrew school sucked donkey balls, and the fact that I could no longer march with my troupe in the annual Memorial Day Parade through town made me cry bitter tears. To shut me up, my mom channeled Kyle’s mom from South Park and informed the troupe leaders that I would be marching with them in the parade even though I wasn’t in the troupe anymore. Then she went a step further and found out what badges the other girls had earned so she could buy them and sew them on my sash so I didn’t look badge deficient on the big day. When Memorial Day rolled around, I was highly decorated with badges I couldn’t identify and definitely didn’t earn. All the other girls knew my mom had bought them for me, so they made fun of me along the entire route. Being a Jew is awes.

2. I’ve never taken a journalism class or a women’s studies class in my life.
Yes, I have somehow ended up as the Managing Editor of a national feminist magazine, but I actually have a Bachelor’s of Fine Arts in Performing Arts Production/Management. Many have marveled at my ability to ferret out the one job that pays worse than theater. What can I say? I’m gifted.

3. My first pet died the night my brother was born.
He was a bunny named Brown-Foot. I named him that because, in my morbid four-year-old mind, if I ever needed money, I could kill him and sell his carcass to whoever was responsible for the lucky rabbits’ feet I saw vendors selling in Central Park. And if I did decide to do that, the feet would be, you guessed it, brown. As it turned out, I didn’t need to kill him. There wasn’t room enough in the world for both Brown Foot and my baby brother, so Brown Foot’s soul was sucked out of his body, and at that precise moment, he was reincarnated as Daniel. I wonder how much I could get for Daniel’s feet…

4. I got my period for the first time on Valentine’s Day, 1988.
One drop of blood painlessly fell from my vagina, leaving an adorable, heart-shaped stain in my petite white panties. NOT. By the time I got off the school bus my jeans looked like a fucking crime scene and I was in terrible, unfamiliar pain. Nobody was home but my brother, and I was so scared and freaked out by the way my mom’s super-giant maxi pad felt in my underwear I wanted to die. Now my period is old enough to drive, have legal sex, and join the army. Sunrise, sunset.

5. The day I lost my virginity, it was a “do-over.”
One summer day when I was 17, it felt like an egg-timer went off in my ovaries and I suddenly wanted to have sex, even though I hadn’t ever wanted to before. I called my boyfriend, and he came over right after I was done with summer-school chemistry to do the deed. Unforch, I got nervous after the clothes came off, and stalled by making out with him for a really long time, so by the time I was ready, he couldn’t complete the feat. I officiously re-scheduled him for the same time the next day, and because I was very goal oriented at that point, I skipped the make-out part at the beginning, so my “do-over” did the trick, but didn’t really feel good at all. Was that TMI? Oh well, whatevs.

Devil babies leave me be!!!

Friday, February 2nd, 2007

Eye-Gore Krypt Kiddie, originally uploaded by emilyrems.

I’m coming up on deadline again, so it should come as no surprise that I’ve once again been beseiged by sick fucking baby dreams. Here’s the latest chapter:

I look around and I’m in the emergency room of a hospital waiting in line to speak to the triage nurse. In front of me on line is a family (mother, father, sister, brother) and they are all screaming at each other. Finally the dad turns around and I realize it is the family of one of my close friends who died when we were 15. I’m debating whether I should insinuate myself into their fight to say hello when I’m suddenly stabbed with crippling abdominal pain . I look down and see I’m hugely pregnant and realize I’m in labor, so I push past the family and demand medical attention immediately. The nurse takes me inside a very chaotic, creepy, dirty, disorganized looking emergency room and sticks me in a corner to wait for the OB/GYN. While I’m waiting the pain continues, becoming more and more frightening and intense unti I’m screaming. Finally the doctor comes in and says I have to “break the seal inside” before I can give birth, so she suggests I shove my fingers up into my vagina as hard as I can until I feel a membrane, and then try to puncture that membrane with my hand until fluid comes out. It’s hard to reach and very uncomfortable, but I finally get my hand up there, and as I’m poking around, I realize that with every stab of my fingers, I can hear a baby screaming inside of me. I get scared and tell the doctor, but she tells me that it’s impossible for a baby to scream while it’s still inside me and I should keep poking. So I keep poking, until I can’t stand the screaming any more, so I stop and the screaming stops. The doctor leaves and suddenly my best friend Johanna walks in. I’m so relieved to see her and I beg her to try to find LCF since he doesn’t have a cell phone. She agrees and disappears, leaving me alone again in horrible pain. After what feels like hours of waiting alone, LCF shows up and is shocked and freaked out that I’m in labor since he didn’t know I was even pregnant. He tries to comfort me but I can tell he’s totally fucked up about the whole situation which is making me feel fucked up so I leave the hospital room and go hide in a small cramped bathroom. I sit on the toilet seat, but it’s got a plastic seat stuck to it, the kind you put on for potty training toddlers so they don’t fall in, so the seat is very uncomfortable. Suddenly the pain gets much much worse, and I start to give birth there on the toilet. A big purple amniotic sack oozes out of me, and inside I can see a baby floating inside. I rip the sack open with my fingernails and all this goo pours out and then the baby floats to the surface. It’s a boy, and he’s cold and gray and still, lying lifeless there in my hands. In that instant I know that because I followed the doctor’s instructions against my own better instincts, I’ve accidentally killed my baby. The grief and pain and confusion is unbearable as I clutch the dead baby to my chest and burst out of the bathroom and into the emergency room. Blood in pouring out of me and down my legs and onto the floor as I scream for someone to help me. Over and over again I scream “My baby’s dead, somebody help him, my baby’s dead!” Finally two teenage candy-striper-type nursing assistants come over and take the baby, and start speaking to each other very melodramatically, as if they are in a soap opera, saying to each other, “What shall we do? The baby is dead!” I look at my baby now in their hands and realize it looks suspiciously like a plastic doll. I start to wonder if I’m the butt of some kind of twisted hoax, and start looking around, paranoid, wondering who’s in on it. Then I wake up, crying and covered in sweat. It was all so real this time, it took me a while to fully realize it was all a dream.

So Tired…

Wednesday, January 24th, 2007

Houston & Bowery 2, originally uploaded by emilyrems.

Couldn’t sleep last night. Went shopping for birthday gifties, watched Gilmore Girls Season 5, Disc 5 on DVD, went to the gym at midnight, made garlic shrimp fettucini, did dishes, screamed at the roaches audaciously strolling around my kitchen like they own the place, still couldn’t sleep. Feel like roadkill now. If I make it through today and don’t end up hospitalized for “exhaustion” like Lindsey Lohan, then I hope to see everyone who’s anyone tomorrow night for X-treme fun tymes…

*LCF’s Birthday!!!*
January 25, 2007
10 PM
Niagara Bar
112 Ave. A (@ 7th St., NYC)
Cost : FREE!
Royal Pink is headlining the ever-awesome Antagonist Art party at Niagara Bar. Dance your pants off to our new and improved set! Rejoice in the free cover charge! Meet fabulous up-and-coming- artists in the art show curated by Emily Rems, including: Kiki from Faux Mustache, Matt Schwartz from She Hit Pause Studios, Ian Allen from Cherry Red, Logan del Fuego from Lucien Kiiva, and the winsome Rachel Teumim! Celebrate LCF’s birthday with us! A good time is guaranteed or we’ll give you your free admission back.

They tried to make her go to rehab but she said “No, no, no.”

Friday, January 19th, 2007
Amy Winehouse at Joe’s Pub, originally uploaded by emilyrems.

If you’re not already obsessed with brit motown pop genius Amy Winehouse, you will be by the time summer rolls around, I guarantee it. Her new album will be hitting stores in March, but in the meantime she’s totally blowing up stateside. I saw her play to a packed Joe’s Pub on Tuesday backed up by no fewer than 10 hot guys called the Dap Kings (2 sizzling back-up dancers/singers, 3 horns, bass, 2 guitars, keyboard, drums) and the scene was impressive. Halfway through the gig, I even spied Jay-Z watching her very intently from his perch under the exit sign, so watch your ass Beyonce! Seriously though, the show was marvy, and Amy was delightfully drunk and weird. Her diction was flawless when she sang, but she had a pretty serious stutter when she took breaks to request whiskey sours from stage and exchange indecipherable private jokes with friends in the audience. She also did a lot of weird crouching to drink on the floor during instrumental interludes and there was much ocd tugging of the crotch area of her cocktail dress. But then she would bust out with that fantastic wail from beneath her towering ratty bouffant and was fully in control again like the long lost daughter of Ronnie Spector. Get on the train before it leaves the station here.

I Wanna Be Your Dog

Thursday, January 18th, 2007

The Pop Man Cometh, originally uploaded by emilyrems.

The gentleman pictured above is dream-a-liscious. My job last night was to chat on the phone with him for an hour. Rough life eh? He told me that back in the day, there was an underground freak show in Times Square filled with totally fake human oddities and it was next to an excellent Chinese noodle house. Anyone know what he could be talking about? Enquiring minds want to know…

Auntie Em in Full Effect

Monday, January 15th, 2007

er+eb=TLF, originally uploaded by emilyrems.

Finally made it up to MA over the weekend to bond with my BFF Johanna and snuggle up with her presh lil’ baby Emlyn (note how awes he looks rocking the black onesie I got him!) A sweet time was had by all, and after I got over my fear of crushing him when I held him, I found that I could get him to stop crying by either swinging things over his head, or singing him power ballads from the ’80s. Rock on! In the aftermath of my visit, however, I (suprise, surprise) had yet another baby nightmare:

I was at a big pool party at someone’s palatial estate. They had a huge indoor pool that started on the covered roof deck and went all the way down a few floors to a glass walled lounge where people could sit and watch the people swimming around through a big window. I was feeling self-conscious about walking around in my bathing suit, and I really wanted to get in one of the jacuzzis, but every time I was about to get in the water, everyone would get out, so I would stay out because I didn’t want to be the only one in the giant pool by myself. Eventually people started leaving the party, so I started wandering towards the exit. I entered a kitchen/dining area, and I saw a baby lying unattended on the kitchen table. I went over to the baby and decided to sit with it until someone came back to claim it, since it wasn’ t safe just lying on a table all alone. For some reason, the baby’s head was resting on a small dinner plate, but I didn’t think that was a big deal, so I just rubbed the baby’s belly and let it grip my pinkie with it’s tiny hands for a while. Eventually the mother, a thin, tan, frosted lady bristling with entitlement came barging in with an entourage and came over to the baby. She picked the baby up and started screaming at me that the baby’s head was squished into the plate, that I was killing her baby, and that I had to call an ambulance or the baby would die. I tried to explain that I had just found the baby like that, I didn’t squish the baby’s head onto the plate, and besides, the baby was fine and happy and didn’t look squished at all. The mother wouldn’t listen, she was just frantic and screaming at me and telling me over and over the baby was going to die and it was all my fault. I went searching for a phone to call an ambulance, and got all stressed out because I could see nothing wrong with the baby and I didn’t even know where I was or whose house it was or what to tell them. Then I woke up in a sweat.

Classic.

My Celeb Look-Alikes

Monday, January 8th, 2007