A blog that was supposed be made up of bits about cab rides and blurbs about beauty products but, instead, is about other things.



Today I will take a few taxis, and I'm not looking forward to any of them. I will carry lots of stuff to work. Then I will go to East New York, which is actually still in Brooklyn. There, I will hang out in the post office bulk mailing center which is actually a lot like a warehouse where they have no clue how to handle what they sell and they justify the low price you pay by making you do all their work (nonprofit rate, sorting, stamping, counting, sorting again) while they stare at you and complain. The cab will wait for me there, then take me back to work, and then, a few hours later another cab will take me to a wedding, on Long Island. Yes, on a Tuesday night.

Bonus round: Wednesday morning, 5:00 a.m., another cab, the airport.


Dizzy With Excitement

BOMB magazine's 100th issue came in the mail today.
Yes, you know someone who was an intern there.
Yes, Ed Park has a story on page 90 and I'm going to read it on the trip home!



Too hot to handle, too cold to hold.

Not really, but that song was playing on the radio.



Sounds almost like a weapon.
No, not very close.



Even I wouldn't have advised you to take a cab to the Cyclones game. You can take credit for that not-smart move.

You missed many scoreless innings and a stop at L&B Spumoni Gardens. We had a real estate history lesson and I spilled stuff all over my dress.


I Passed Fresh Kills, But I Couldn't Hold My Nose, Because I Had To Keep My Hands On The Wheel And I Was Sort Of Holding My Breath Already Anyway

It seems that my family thinks that the way to cure anxiety attacks is to send me on long road trips alone and at night. They printed out directions, and added in handwritten notes, they promised it would be okay, and then they left me to find my way home. This wasn't when I was learning to drive, this was last night. I cried, and my hands are still sort of stuck in the position I held them in while gripping the steering wheel the entire ride, but I'm home, and I didn't take anti-anxiety pills because I was more worried about them making me fall asleep at the wheel than I was about finding my way. I guess my family won.


Remember The Time

This looks familiar.


Neither Stale, Nor Stuffy

Today is sort of stuffy and stale so maybe it's time for news about a place that is neither. On Sunday afternoon, the man at Gertel's told me that they are closing up on Hester Street on June 22. The building was sold. They'll operate, after then, wholesale only, in Williamsburg. He wouldn't sell me their sign.


Now Would Be A Good Time

Now would be a good time to admit that an Eggers painting — sold years ago at an auction to benefit another literary magazine — is pretty much responsible for why I work where I work today. I no longer have the painting (I bought it to give to a boy as a gift), but I have a job working for a place that was birthed at a meeting where we'd been instructed by the seller to bring the painting one Sunday afternoon. I'm glad we stayed for the meeting. Then, a lot of time passed and a lot of stuff happened. The important point: now is, in fact, a good time to buy things being sold to benefit McSweeney's. There is another Eggers painting. And lots of books.



Just yesterday I discussed out loud and with another person a life-long desire to be on The Price Is Right. To my delight, this dream was shared by many with whom we were sitting, and so we might, some day soon, take that trip.

Today a blog and a band love it too: "Arcade Fire Employ Guerilla Tactics To Woo The Fertile Indie Rock/The Price Is Right Crossover Demo."


No Comment

Trashing your wedding dress while someone takes photos.
This is a trend? What about the bridesmaids? (NYT)

I Think It Was A Van Cab, But I Cannot Recall

"It’s like the ShopRite of junk," said some guy in today's New York Times about Billy's which is sort of a store but sort of not. I don't think I agree with his supermarket comparison.

One of my favorite piece of furniture was an impulse buy. Out one day, on a walk, with a friend, it was there, at Billy's, and it was perfect. Friend guarded the couch from other would-be buyers (in what I imagine to be a fervent way), while I ran to an ATM and back. I gave Billy the cash and took the couch home in a cab ten months later. (The delay, no one's fault but my own.)



I'm not sure why we were following you, 1D50.

I hadn't been paying attention, so I was surprised when I looked up and my driver was about to turn left, instead of right, where I needed to go, and when I asked him to change lanes he yelled at you and threw his soda bottle at the trunk of your car as you made your left turn and got away.


All The Green Taxis

It seems like all the "green" cabs are parked in Park Slope.
Strategically? What good does this do?
Ad placement? (They're all topped by Yahoo.)
And they're all over the neighborhood.
Not driving. Just taking up space, parking spaces.


Father Figure

If I had to pick a fictional father, maybe I'd pick Jack Spade.

"He" is donating 10% of proceeds (from June 10 through June 17) to 826NYC.


Is The Voice Of

I didn't play deaf, exactly, I just pretended I couldn't hear anything he said.



"A person can reduce the risk of this condition by managing stress and learning how to express his or her feelings," said the dermatological expert.

I thought it merely a reaction to the cheap metal ring you bought for me at the street fair, or to the heat; I didn't realize the rash on my finger could possibly be an indictment of my ability to deal with life.
jensnow(AT)gmail(DOT)com. All content Copyright 2008. You can visit me at Things I Don't Understand And Definitely Am Not Going To Talk About (thingsidontunderstandand.tumblr.com) and at www.jensnow.com.