Nintendo saves another Thanksgiving!

That's the text I got back from Adam when I sent him pictures of my family in "Mii" form. That is, my mom bought herself a Wii, which meant that the three small children present at our little gathering disappeared for hours playing with the thing. When we went upstairs to fetch them we discovered they'd created 18 Miis, amongst whom were a Mii Caroline, Mii Gina, and Mii Lee.


When I sent this one to Adam he said that I looked like an Asian Cleopatra.


Haha! May as well be a photograph of my mother.


And my pop. Aside from the exuberantly gleeful expression it's pretty accurate. Good job kids! And thank you, Nintendo!

Everyone's a little bit racist.

I haven't taken too many pictures lately, so I'm just going to give you this. When I'm on the train from Brooklyn I rarely get a seat right away, but pulling into Canal Street makes me a little racist, because I start scanning the car for Asians assuming that they'll all get up and I'll be able to sit down. And if the Asians I have my eye on don't leave I get angry with them.

Don't be offended, I know you all eyeball all the Jew-noses on the train around South Williamsburg. Also, when I googled to find out what other distinctly ethnic neighborhoods there were that I might not know about, several sites listed "Hipster" among the ethnicities. My favorite examples:

West Village: Gay
Whitestone, Queens: Old Folks
South Williamsburg: Hassidic Jews
North Williamsburg: Hipsters and Polish

It made me laugh to see the "gay," "old folks," "hipster" and "lesbian" ethnicities woven in with Jews, Polish and the like. Thanks internet.

How about a proposition on divorce?

Usually Keith Olberman is a little too much even for me. But in this case he may as well have been reciting my thoughts verbatim:

President That One.

At 11:02pm, immediately after Obama was declared victorious, I received a text message from my old high school buddy, Paulie, that read, "I remember you saying maybe 3 or 4 years ago that Obama would be the next prez. Props yo."

So, you know, just for the record, you can all thank me for this. And you're welcome.

Also, as we waited with baited breath for the 'Bammer to arrive and make his acceptance speech, I so soooooo hoped that he'd come out on stage wearing a track suit and a chinchilla coat and, like, a big ol' sparkly grill. And then it would've been a tear-away or something and he could go, "sike!" and it would've been a great joke.

No bagel no bagel no bagel!

Aside from getting bangs, some other things have happened.


My roommate Matt had a birthday at a bar/club in our neighborhood I'd never been to. I examined the ceiling, Wendy mugged for the camera, Zachary rocked out.


Another Sunday, another few hours at Jeff's watching football. And watching Virgil retreat into his "hacienda." Jeff bought him a cat tree that was advertised as having two cat perches and a hacienda.


Somehow I got the hiccups real bad when Michelle and I were out at a bar and she MADE me suck on a lemon to get rid of them. This is the face for "I know this doesn't work but I'm humoring you," and of course it does not, in fact, work.


I cut Mom's hair again! She gave me a great bummer face for the before.


Another before; pretty bushy.


And the final before.


She loved it!




And then it was Halloween!

If we dressed up for school we didn't have to wear our usual all white uniforms, so duh I dressed up. For the sake of simplicity I reprized (for the 3rd? 4th time?) the white trash costume. To my left are Mommy Dearest, and one of the Josie and the Pussycats chicks.


A lot of the younger girls really, really made good on the "all girls wanna do is dress slutty for Halloween" stereotype.


Cheeto dust on my shirt.

On a very sunny Sunday, Wendy and I went to the Prospect Park zoo.

I pet a goat.


And then got stared down by another one.


Wendy taunted a cow.


And then tried to get all friendly, which didn't really work. The cow was still peeved from before.

And lastly, everybody's getting effing kittens.

This is Bagel, my friend Emily's new daughter. This picture only barely conveys how teeny she is, and when I went to meet her this weekend I had an aneurysm.

NOW GO TO SLEEP SO YOU CAN WAKE UP AT THE DAWN'S ASS CRACK AND VOTE FOR OBAMA.

Love,
Carotime

Real, live Mitbangs.

So far I feel a little like I'm wearing a wig, and I possibly look even younger than I already did, but I am loving it. One step closer to the Chrissie Hynde goal. And also proof that Mitbangs are a thing of reality.

I haven't had bangs like this since I was a little kid, as you will now see below:


Enjoying pb&j on the old totally Cosby Brooklyn stoop! The beret is my mom's influence, I take no responsibility for her fashion choices. But there are the early Mitbangs, nicely offset by large plastic 80s kids' glasses.


I will, however, give Mom accolades until the end of time for this Halloween costume. She sacrificed her own pants and shirt and PAINTED them and the whole nine. No one knows it but my mom is an incredible artist. For my 4th birthday I had a bunch of preschool kids over to our apartment and my mom made a beanbag toss herself - she painted Cookie Monster on it and the hole was his open mouth, then she made the beanbags and decorated them to look like chocolate chip cookies. Word. Anyway, Mitbangs peeping out from under the buffoon hat.


More of my mom's genius: For reasons I never bothered to question (I was 3), I had the enormous master bedroom in our BK apartment. I'm talking huge. Mom helped me take a big box (get an idea of the scale from the fact that this is 3-year-old me STANDING in it) from some large appliance and decorate it to look like a house. It had painted flowerboxes and a door handle and everything, it was so sweet. That was probably the one thing I was devastated about leaving when we moved to Jersey.


Check out my road rage face and then look a little closer to my Mitbangs totally static clung to the top of the car.


Oh Mom and Dad, you're so clever! You made it look like I was a 2-year-old drinking beer! They were the first ever to execute that joke. No parents before mine had this idea. And there's the earliest documented incarnation of Mitbangs.

The great thing about being poor is

you gotta have roommates. One of mine is my dear dear college friend Zach. Our friendship consists entirely - without exception - of spontaneous and uncannily synchronized singing of pop songs, and Nacho Libre impressions. When we're hanging out on the futon things like the following video happen.




Things to know:
-I was wearing a set of felt flower goggles that my friend Priya brought me from London as a gift two visits ago.
-I was knitting when Zachary brought the computer over, so I kept knitting.
-When we both jump and then crack up, it's because our roommate Matt arrived home to this scene and we were momentarily hilariously embarrassed.