Laura Ling and Euna Lee

So is it weird that I have to leave Starbucks because I'm so happy that Bill Clinton was able to negotiate a release for Laura Ling and Euna Lee that I'm, um, about to cry?

Geesh... I'm not even PMS-ing.

The story just struck a chord with me from the moment I heard about it. I really admire Lisa Ling and identify with her in regards to the bond she shares with her sister. I don't know what I'd do if my sissy was sentenced to 12 years of hard labor in a North Korean prison camp. And Euna Lee has a daughter who's the same age as Nora.

Sisters need their sisters:




And babies need their mommies:



Anyway, I have to leave Starbucks now because there's a bubble in my throat and I think it's best that I go home and cry to relieve it.

Hmmm..

What's up with astronauts and weird underwear? I mean, first there was that lady who wore those special diapers on her cross-country road-trip, and now there's this:

AP: Japanese astronaut tests endurance... of his undies

Dude kept his panties on for a solid month.

Messed up, I tell ya.

Save The Words

This is so cool.

www.savethewords.org




UPDATE: Two more websites.

How To Beat Up Anything

Avoid This Job


PS - I found these via The Buzz Board on my new favorite website, The Daily Beast. Smart people from all over recommend a variety of things like music, products, books, websites, movies, TV shows, etc. You can browse through page by page, or use the filter at the top to look at a particular category.

Painting Again

I'm painting all the doors in my apartment glossy white! (They were ugly brown.)
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T

Ginormous Dog Balls

I don't know what's more disturbing... the fact that there's a Poodle outside of Starbucks with the biggest wiener and balls I've ever seen or that I've spent the last ten minutes trying to get a good picture of it. (So I can share it with you, not because I'm weird like that.)

UPDATE: I hope you don't think I've gone overboard.









These pics don't even do it justice. They were hanging so low that they were grazing the sidewalk.

Klutzy Karyn

This post might not make any sense because I might be suffering from some kind of traumatic brain injury.

So I was napping on the sofa this morning (it was hot in my bedroom last night so I moved to the couch early AM) when I awoke to the sounds of Elvis dry-heaving. Not wanting him to vomit on the couch or rug, I swooped him up and jumped off the couch (still half-sleeping, mind you) and then ran full-force into the kitchen. "Full-force" might be an understatement because I ended up crashing into the wall opposite the entrance (head-butted it, in fact), a wall that happens to hold a rack of pots and pans which fell on my head.

So now I'm dizzy and worried that I have a traumatic brain injury (which I mentioned above), so I came to Starbucks because if I'm going to pass out or pass away, I think it's best that I do it in a place where someone can call 911 or try to save me because the last time I checked Beverly and Elvis can't use the phone and aren't brain surgeons.

If the employees of Starbucks only knew how much stock I put into them...



UPDATE: My head feels better but my neck is very sore. (It twisted and cracked when I hit the wall.)

Fruit

There's something about eating fruit that makes me grateful to be alive. Is that weird?



It's just so naturally sweet and delicious... it makes me realize how thankful I am for everything I have.

Salad

Nora ate a salad for the first time and called to tell me about it.

"That's so exciting!" I said. "What was in it?"

"Snow peas, cranberries, and carrots," she replied, "...and ice cube lettuce!"

Summer Cleaning

I've been spring summer cleaning, getting rid of things, giving myself space to breathe, and I stumbled upon this instruction manual in a junk drawer:



Good thing I saved it. (WTF?)

UPDATE: I originally thought the number at the top was a serial number, but it's the date it was made. 11/24/06 happens to be the day after Thanksgiving, so in case you're interested in working at the vibrator factory, they don't give their employees the long holiday weekend off.

Elvis

Mommy's pretty kitty.



I haven't posted a picture of Elvis in such a long time! He's going to be 14 years old next month and he's just as frisky as ever.

Bev and Elvis are so funny and so very different. Bev can be a bit of a loner. When we're at home, if I'm in the living room, she's in the bedroom. And when I go to sleep at night, she leaves the bedroom and goes to the living room. I mean, she cuddles sometimes, but I usually have to force her.

Elvis, on the other hand, is my shadow. I joke that his favorite things to do are eat, sleep and hover. He's always hovering... lurking... trying to figure out a way that he can safely get to comforts of my lap. He follows me to the bedroom, to the kitchen, to the bathroom... he waits while I take a shower. At night, he sleeps on the pillow next to me. And sometimes when I wake up, I find that he's moved to mine. He forms sort of a crescent above my head... it's kind of like he's spooning with it.

Anywho, here's one more pic of his speckled kitty paws:



Love my little muffins.

Chris Brown

Okay, so don't freak out on me for what I'm about to say... but I think people should give Chris Brown a second chance.

Via MSNBC: Chris Brown tapes video apology to Rihanna



He's young and dumb and he made a terrible mistake. But he seems to realize what he did was wrong and is seeking counseling for his issues. And I'm not making any excuses for him, but he did grow up in a violent household, perhaps that messed him up more than anyone imagined. And yes, I realize that many people who are raised around violence don't grow up to beat on women, but still. We don't know what's going on in this kid's head—he's still really young and obviously not well-enough equipped to deal with his apparent anger-management/rage issues.

I guess I'm just saying that coming out of a situation like this Chris Brown can do two things: He can either apologize for what he did and seek help, or he can ignore it and not. But if we want him to realize that what he did was wrong—and I would hope that that's what people would want (even if you want him to be jailed/punished, isn't the goal of punishment to have people learn from their mistakes?)—then we need to be willing to forgive him.

I mean, I remember right when this happened. Everyone wanted him to release a statement, and then when he finally did, it just wasn't good enough. Well, of course it wasn't, because what would have been good enough? Nothing, really—I mean, there's no excuse for what he did. But if people are going to demand that he take responsibility for his actions, then they need to be willing to move past him doing so and on to what comes next, which is forgiveness and rehabilitation.

I don't know... I'm sorry if you disagree, but I said what I believe. I'm a forgiving person, I guess, perhaps too forgiving sometimes.

Brooklyn Sunset

The sun was setting really beautifully last night behind a church that's a block away from my apartment, so I went up to the roof to take a picture.



I was looking up the name of the church today because I wanted to put it underneath the picture on Flickr (it's a confusing name because three churches combined to make this one), and I learned that Frank McCourt was baptized there!

According to Forgotten-NY...

Angela's Ashes author Frank McCourt was baptized here in 1930 before his family returned to Limerick, Ireland in 1934.

I totally forgot that he was born in Brooklyn and lived in this neighborhood before his family moved back to Ireland. So then I thought, it's kind of strange that I took this picture on the day he died, right? Well, it's not totally strange (I've taken many pictures of this church), but the fact that I decided to take one last night and post it today kind of is.

Anywho, the official name (I think) is St. Peter St. Paul Our Lady of Pilar Church.

Funny...

...I don't remember creating this folder.



It contained quite a few drunk ramblings.

Awesome Song

I'm laughing so hard right now... that I'm going to go poop on my cat.


Via (my new favorite blog) F*cked in Park Slope

RIP Frank McCourt

I went to a book-signing of his for Angela's Ashes when I lived in Chicago. I bought two copies—one for myself and one for my grandpa, who was born in Ireland—and had them signed.





Such a heart-breaking yet wonderful book.