Crasher Squirrel

This couple was on vacation in Canada and set up their camera with the timer so they could take a picture of themselves. She set it up on the rock, they took their seats a few feet away, and then ... the squirrel showed up:



Now, nicknamed the Crasher Squirrel, he has been popping up all over the Internet.

Cuba on my mind

I spent some time today immersed in the surreal world that is preparing for a trip to Cuba. I offered to take a friend, who is now on his way (of course the flight was delayed), to the airport this morning. Although the flight wasn't supposed to leave until 1:30 p.m., he had to be there at 9:30 a.m.

I have family and friends who have gone to Cuba and I'm aware that taking various items (you know, real luxury stuff: towels, medicine, toothpaste, dish-washing soap) is a requisite, but I didn't quite understand the logistics and planning that goes into this whole endeavor. I still don't. And it's not easy information to find. It also doesn't help that you have to worry not only about customs here in the U.S., but also the olive green brigade in Cuba as well.


In any case, it was a strange morning. Our arrival at the agency where his ticket waited for him (this ticket had been up in the air all week ... he was finally told he could pick it up here a half-hour before he was supposed to be at the airport) was welcomed by a brood of hens with a couple of roosters thrown in to the mix. Here are a few of them:


His two bags were deemed too heavy and everything was unpacked. A third, smaller bag was magically produced from the depths of a closet in the office and the lady at the agency helped him repack the bags, taking all the medicines out of their boxes, carefully taping them to make sure they wouldn't spill and that any necessary instructions weren't lost, putting them in the third bag that she then disguised (it had some inappropriate logo or something on the front?) and covered in tape. Advice was given on what to do with a large bottle of olive oil and a portable DVD player. It would seem that wearing a suit is a good idea. All of this took place in front of me as I sat there, completely baffled by how ludicrous the whole thing is and unsure how I could help, if at all.

The whole experience has left me thinking about all the things we take for granted: not only access to well-stocked pharmacies, but also food and freedom. Cuba is now a place where talking about the fact that you are hungry is a criminal offense.



For those of you who don't speak Spanish, this man, whose nickname is Panfilo, is video-taped, while drunk, saying that he's hungry, that everyone is hungry and that there is no food to eat. Consequently, the police start showing up to his home and questioning him. Scared, he then records a second video, saying that he was drunk and didn't know what he was saying. In the end, Panfilo has been arrested and will be imprisoned for two years for peligrosidad - being a danger to the state. Will they at least give him something to eat in prison?

Meanwhile, the bearded one just celebrated his 83rd birthday. What do you want to bet that cabron had a great meal to celebrate?

I've never particularly cared for the Three Stooges, but I'm excited to see the Farrelly Brothers' version since it has Paul Giamatti and Benicio del Toro.



Ever heard of a Tickle Me Plant? Neither had I before my friend sent me the link to a video with a really funny song. Watch it. That way when I start singing it in front of you, since I can't get it out of my head, you can sing along with me.



Since I'm such a (trying-to-be-reformed) hater, I wanted to just snark on this whole "Sweaty Sunday" workout article - because it takes place in a "hipster neighborhood" in LA, because it's described as an "American Apparel ad come to life," because "headbands and bright tights are the norm" - but in the end, I decided it's pretty awesome.



They look really happy:



And I think I would be too, if I was there.

To be really happy

You should be a sea gypsy, yes? (warning: the other stories at this link, while beautifully photographed and interesting, are not happy.)

Places I would really like to go ...

I've always wanted to go to Japan and Machu Picchu, but I'm adding two places to the list that I had never thought of before:



Greenland, now that I read this photo essay, and





The Maldives, to stay in any of these hotels.

Dita goes grocery shopping! In France!

She's been photographed wearing lots of flats since she started dating this Count Louis-Marie de Castelbajac. I wonder if she's trying to emphasize his height? Her petiteness?

Mermaid sightings!

THIS has made my day!!!!

What SHOULD my tattoo say?

I have a visible tattoo that is in another language. It has a lot of meaning for me and comes with a whole story that I don't necessarily feel like sharing all the time. And I definitely don't feel like sharing with patrons at work.

So today, when this creepy guy asked me what it meant, I told him "happy hour" (the tattoo has two words), thinking anyone would think that's so stupid that I either must be pretty inane OR I must be bullshitting them because I don't want to talk about it.

Apparently, that was too subtle, because he took me seriously and asked me out to happy hour at the Catalina.

Anyone have any suggestions for what I should tell patrons in the future??

Thanks.

Angry? Punch a priceless work of art!

What a bizarre, awesome way to vent your frustration: a Russian woman who was denied French citizenship went to the Louvre and threw a cup at the Mona Lisa. At first I thought that must be the Russian in her, but apparently in France cathartic release often involves works of art.

The article mentions a man who went to the Musee D'Orsay and punched a painting by Claude Monet, and another woman in southern France who kissed (with lipstick) a painting by some American painter.

In other art related news, our own exhibit at work has caused a bit of a stir. A patron complained about the black American flag (It's an American flag. It's black. It's on a tripod. It has something do with either digital or analog media. Or both. I'm not sure.) to one of my co-workers. Within half an hour, we were already getting a call from an assistant director. Apparently, this industrious patron called his commissioner, who called the administration office. That's government in action folks!!! Complain about an (innocent, yes, innocent, I can see how someone would be offended, but c'mon, it's a FLAG) flag in an art exhibit at a public L and you'll get results instantly! But people living under bridges, streets that flood at the slightest rain shower ... that's low priority.

Mama Gena's School of Womanly Arts

This woman:



leads a charmed life that involves waking up and sliding off Frette sheets (a fitted sheet, top sheet and two shams will cost $1700. Oh yes, I looked it up, because I had never heard of it, but figured it must be expensive if the NY Times finds it to be such an important detail that it must be mentioned.), going to the beach, eating granola, writing a book, having lunches that involve scallops so good and fresh they're "poetic," running and dancing, I'm sorry, booty shaking, with her friends for some fishermen, boating, eating dinner while wearing Prada platforms, having bonfires with her friends, and taking baths with rose-scented candles and an un-boyfriend.

What does she DO in order to be able to live this (arguably) perfect lifestyle? Why, she teaches women to "actualize [their] full-throttle power and life force"! Of course! You too can skip around the beach shaking your booty in Prada platforms if you first give Mama Gena, sorry, invest $4950 (for four weekends) and enroll in Mama Gena's School of Womanly Arts. So you can learn to be a woman.

Is it just me, or does it all sound a little too much like You're Pretty Cosmetics (you are watching Weeds, aren't you?) ...



Maybe I could start a branch of MGSWA down here and add a little something extra, like Celia?

And, um, just cause Nancy Botwin is awesome ...

Some awesome things

Awesome iphone app: goPostal, allows you to choose a photo, write a message, include an address, and it will print and mail it for you.



Awesome book: An Irreverent Curiosity: In Search of the Church's Strangest Relic in Italy's Oddest Town is all about the Holy Foreskin and Calcata, Italy, where it belonged. (Of course, we don't have a copy at work...)

Awesome life lesson: "You will do better once you learn to distinguish between the things that can kill you and the ones that merely sting."

Awesome near death experience: dead baby comes back to life at a funeral home.

Yo quiero ...

Oh the wisdom! Alcohol, late nights, and Mexican food. A match made in heaven:

"The thought 'if we eat greasy Mexican food now it will stop the hangover before it starts' always seems reasonable. In theory, this should be an air-tight physiological argument. In practice, it often turns out that the mystery taco meat of the evening joins forces with the alcohol to create new and interesting kinds of morning-after misery. Which is how the world should be."

I would love to make a list of places to eat late-night Mexican food in Miami, like this one for LA (where the quote above came from), but ARE there any late-night Mexican food joints in Miami other than Taco Bell?

Speaking of Taco Bell and mystery taco meat:

Demon Starfish, UPDATE and my friend, the sniper-sex-therapist

FYI, the Demon Starfish has struck again! He mailed a loooong letter (who knew he had the capacity to address and stamp an envelope and put it in the appropriate mailbox?) to someone at work wherein he expresses his concern over the well-being of many of the staff members. Including Isabella, princesa de las flores. Including yours truly, actually. I didn't even know he knew my name. I didn't even know he knew I existed. I've had way less contact with him than my other co-workers; I've only helped him once that I can remember. Anyway, he hasn't seen me in the last few weeks he claims, so he was worried I had been killed by werewolves or demons or some such creatures.

It's touching.

I also had a nice conversation today with my friend Karl, the sniper sex therapist. I don't believe I've mentioned him before, but Karl is a nice old man who just turned 83 on the day that I also celebrated my birthday. So through this happy coincidence, we have become more than friends, we are now brother and sister. Or so he says.

I have it on (somewhat) good authority (if you consider that our sources are often other regulars) that Karl was a sniper/assassin in a former life. The same day I was told this, he told me himself that he was a sex therapist (and then proceeded to invite me to a couples' sex therapy weekend that he assured me cost $5,000. The fee, he said, would be waived for me, his sister.)

Today, I found out he was also dean of a business school in England, worked in archaeological digs in Tunisia, Spain and France, has lived in 5 continents, is Hungarian and grew up in the former Yugoslavia. Apparently he was sentenced to 13 years hard labor and somehow escaped because he was a fencing coach or something.

The thing is, even though this guy is sorta crazy, as our regulars are wont to be, he is also really happy and positive and he just seems to enjoy life ... I'm hoping that if and when I'm 83, I'll be just like him: wandering into strangers' lives and telling them improbable stories just to see them smile.

Blueprint for Joy: Musicals and Greece

So yesterday, after an amazing morning on the beach, I went home and had a picnic in the living room, complete with a blanket on the floor and some beer. I watched Mamma Mia!. I actually saw this when it was still in the movie theaters. It was a tropical storm day, so: no work, bad weather, and I was hanging out with my mom. My mom who can't stay awake through any movie except, inexplicably, The River Wild. My mom who never spends money on going to the movie theater - "What's the point when you can get movies for free at the L?" she says.

She really wanted to see Mamma Mia! and I acquiesced, although I didn't think it would be any good.

I was wrong. Very wrong. The movie is perfect. And after watching it for a second time yesterday I wonder why I was so against it in the first place. It has Meryl Streep! It (suspension of disbelief necessary) takes place on a Greek island! There's singing and dancing every few minutes! Two things that make me very, very happy: musicals and Greece.

The time I spent in Greece, in the Greek islands, was one of the best times of my life. So, expect to see me sometime in the future living in Greece. Maybe in this house.



In the meantime, I'm going to work on incorporating more singing and dancing into my everyday life. I'm sure the people at work won't mind ...

Miami's own Julie/Julia Project

This girl here in Miami named Christina started the Cuban version of the Julie/Julia Project, cooking her way through Cocina al Minuto, that venerable blue book many of us saw lying around, dog-eared, stained, generally mistreated in our abuela's kichens.



Especially funny: "You know, there's a guy, that my grandmother knows, that lost an arm opening the olla de presión before he should have - those things are scary! (Urban Legend - not proven)"

More on happiness. Because we can't get enough.

This essay on happiness written by a Zen Buddhist priest is a must-read. I decided a few days ago that I would focus more on enjoying each moment, enjoying the present, in order to be happier in general. So, with that in mind, the following really jumped out at me, mostly because it's what I've been thinking ... but written in a much more poetic way:

“'For the time being the highest peak, for the time being the deepest ocean; for the time being a crazy mind, for the time being a Buddha body; for the time being a Zen Master, for the time being an ordinary person; for the time being earth and sky. Since there is nothing but this moment, ‘for the time being’ is all the time there is' ... So to be happy, with a happiness that doesn’t blow away with every wind, we need to be able to make use of what happens to us — all of it — whether we find ourselves at the top of a mountain or at the bottom of the sea."

Traveling to Tulum in my mind

I would like to be at this beach in Tulum, Mexico, meditating while the clay and honey that covers me from head to toe dries in the sun so that I can jump in the ocean to wash it all off. Wouldn't you?

And since I'm on the topic of travel ... read this, for different perspective on being "ripped off" by the locals (not in Mexico).

Diversity, Chlamydia, Hermaphrodite?

Thank god! I can sleep better at night now, knowing that the family that bonds together over the filthiness of their tub and goes to church can overcome diversity.



Sad (and baffling) news. The koala in this picture, who was rescued from brushfires in Australia and became a "symbol of hope", has died of ... chlamydia. Apparently this STD affects 50 percent of the koala population. Who knew?



Lady Gaga ... a hermadphrodite?

Some dating advice

If anyone is as interested as I am about the whole Paper Heart are-they-or-aren't-they debate, you can read all about it here. Apparently all the awkward, "real" moments between Charlyne and Michael were awkward and "real," not because they were together, but because they're just awkward, "real" people.

Perhaps they could have used these handy Cue Cards for the Dining Dead to stimulate their conversations.



And something that's important for all of us in relationships, or looking for one, or not looking for that matter, to know: wine makes sex better for women. Thank you, Italian scientists.

Also, according to Liv, Steven Tyler says you'll smell better if you put perfume in your belly button and on the soles of your feet.

When I grow up ...

I've decided that when I grow up I want to be a muse, defined here as "an individual who inspires creative process, an icon that influences a designer or artist and a multi-talented free-spirited person who seeks to live life to the full." Especially if in my free time I can do photo shoots.



Of course, as a muse I will only use beautiful language, so I will prepare by learning and incorporating all of these words into my vocabulary, starting with my favorites - words I didn't even know existed - petrichor and tintinnabulation (which is a good example of onomatopoeia!).

I will continue my new-found love of documenting my life by taking photos of my drinks, but my drinks will be less well vodka sodas and more "blooming champagne cocktails".



I'll go back to baking, since as a muse I'll be "multi-talented" ... I'll probably come up with cute, trendy little baked goodies like these pie pops that are all over the food blogs now.



Since, as a muse, I will be a "free-spirited person who seeks to live life to the full," I will take these drives of a lifetime.



But first, I'll drive to Big Pine Key, since the new food critic at The New York Times claims it's the home of "the only credibly fantastic ham and pineapple pizza on Earth — no lie." Anyone know where exactly to find it?! I've done some preliminary research and it seems to be at No Name Pub, which has been around since 1931 and has a clothing optional policy.