I saw the Partridge Family bus on 2nd Ave. today. Only it's the new Partridge Family bus. Apparently "they" are looking for, you guessed it...the new Partridge Family.

Can I wear Laurie's outfits?

i overheard a kid on the street saying, "but that's one of the most important years of high school"

1) Handwritten note stuck on a mailbox:

Dear Postman -

I think I mailed a letter without a stamp! When you find it, please call me and I will come from around the corner and bring you a stamp.

2) At Taste of the Nation last night, I started talking with the new girlfriend of one of our chefs.

Me: What do you do?
She: Fashion PR.
M: For whom?
S: Mostly department stores and catalogs.
M: My sister in California is at Travelsmith.
S: What's her name?
M: W______ S________.
S: I talked to her yesterday.

on the Black Pearl menu on menpages (just under the fried clam fried shrimp and fried oyster rolls):

Someone in this office has the theme from Mission Impossible as their phone's ringtone. Whoever it is, they get a lot of calls.

my ringtone is the sound of a loud fart--it provides great cover.

(just kidding: i don't have a cell phone; i do have terrible gas though)

There used to be a guy on my morning bus whose cell ringtone was "La donna é mobile," and he must have been partially deaf because it was set very loud. He got a call at almost exactly the same time every morning. I used to wonder what his wife thought of that ringtone (if it even occurred to her what the song is about...)

Flyfish

The Weekend Journal's feature on summer books starts:

I was prepping a client yesterday for the hearing on his claim against the city regarding his arrest during the RNC. He got to the part about his property being vouchered at the pier. The clerk logging in the property asked him what a particular small, black device was.

He: "It's a Blackberry."

She:"It's what?"

He: "It's a Blackberry."

She: "That ain't no fruit!"

I received a flyer through the door the other day advertising a small charity garden sale at our local hall. The flyer was phased something like this:

"This Saturday...bedding plants, wide selection of seeds, quality brick-a-brack, garden tools, tea & coffee, balloons for the children...all in aid of the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament. SUPPORT WORLD PEACE - DOWN WITH NUCLEAR PROLIFERATION - NO MORE WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION."

Blimey, that makes me think about buying a couple of bedding plants.

Is it me or does the Heliconia Bouquet on the Secretts Farm webiste look like a bunch of asparagus, who would want that??

It's definitely not just you.

I went to a charity auction for my daughter's very small private school a couple of weeks ago and was seated next to a couple whose daughter is one of Emma's good friends. It was the first time I had a chance to talk to the parents at length. The husband looked very familiar, and after some conversation, we figured out that we went to the same college and had friends in common. We laughed about the coincidence and commented on what a small town DC is, especially the crowd into the music scene 15-20 years ago.

Went to a show with the wife last Sunday and stopped to pick up two of her friends. The friends were also college accquaintances of mine - they knew my first husband (then roommate), had been to parties at our house, gone to the same shows, etc. Strange that we should hook up again through my daughter's school in the 'burbs.

Very nice man came by this morning to quote on some chimney repairs. Unlike so many service workers around here, he returned phone calls in a timely fashion, showed up on time, and seemed quite knowledgeable about his work. I look forward to having such a decent guy do the job.

I suspect he takes no small amount of abuse for his last name, though: Maeksomporn (yes, he's Thai).

Will you be paying him in Bai Thahts?

saw Cyrano at the Met last night. Act 3, right after the intermission, takes place on the battlefield. The soldiers are tired and hungry and grumpy (and singing, of course).

I had a very hard time controlling my giggles when the male operatic chorus sang "we're hungry, we won't move until we get some food"

How much is that doggie in the window? A sign posted at the pet store on Lexington and 61st-ish reads: "Bichon Frise puppies, originally $1400, now $599!"

If I wasn't busy tonight, I could go hand out Mouthfuls flyers outside Jim Leff's Coliseum book signing.

It can be depressing. But yesterday there were some gorgeous Maine Coon kittens romping with an Abyssinian baby, and they were hilarious. Not on markdown, either.

That would have sent me over the edge. Those kittens probably came from a backyard breeder.

Nevertheless, that store is capable of causing sidewalk traffic jams.

As I was having lunch today at Grand Central Market (birria tacos yum!) the guy sitting at the table in front of me (but with his back to me) lifted his right butt cheek and cut a great loud fart. I was rather amazed not only at the casualness of the gesture but at the tremendous flatulent sound it made. Then I realized he and his table companion were conversing via sign language and were both totally deaf.
So I wonder - is it sort of like the tree falling in the woods - if you can't hear the sound of your own farts do they really count? Or is it only the smell that qualifies?

No just this particular area of downtown LA. Huge Hispanic, Asian and homeless population, weirdo/boho art types (like me) and a recent infusion of affluence capitalizing on the next big real estate boom (read lofts) make everyday Fellini/Passolini crossed with Bunuel's Los Olivados. It's wonderful, horrible and at times a very raw intense vision of humanity. There's the architectural wonder of the cardboard shelters people build for themselves every night; the woman who sleeps on the street corner with her five suitcases and is fastidiously putting on her makeup when I arrive at 6:45am, and the hooker who is at least sixty and looks like someone's abuela working out of the hot sheet hotel two blks down...
Each day is something new. I love it.

An ad on the bus home today, sponsored by the City and the transit company:

All Aboard!
Mental Illness is not an easy ride.

On the left was a photo of a scruffy, bearded man wearing a tuque; on the right a child's drawing of a bus and two kids with a speech bubble over one of them:

"Yea don't call him a wino"

I still have absolutely no idea what we were supposed to glean from this ad.

Flyfish

You can judge a person's sanity by how they dress.

Next question?

lion vs. 42 midgets

Right, the midgets obviously had the upper hand in the real fight.

Overheard as I got off the subway this afternoon "Ani rotzeh lalechet l'health food store" (I want to go to the health food store). Since when did health food store become hebrew?

Helping someone practice for their U.S. naturalization examination.

"Which group of people provides advice to the President?"

Expected answer: The Cabinet.

Candidate's answer: The American Indians.

We've all run into the difficulty of buying gifts for someone who already has “everything”. I find myself in the surreal position of needing a gift for someone who – technically – has NOTHING, having lost EVERYTHING in a house fire a month ago. Where to even start?

Where are they living now? Was there insurance?