i am a crappy tour guide.

Don't let the peppy exterior and the love for New York City fool you. I am officially a Crappy Tour Guide.

My cousin Brian is visiting from Iowa, and we haven't really had a chance to hit the town together, since I was shooting a film over the weekend. So this morning, I took a couple of hours off so we could hang out, see some NYC sights together and hit the Brooklyn Museum (since they have some cool exhibits I want to see).

Yeah, the Brooklyn Museum is closed on Tuesdays.

So we made an alternate plan: we'd take the Tram over to Roosevelt Island and check things out over there, then take the F train back to Manhattan. We hopped on the train, got to 60th Street, climbed up the stairs to the tram station... only to see the tram pull out. And the next one? Not for another hour.

So we made an alternate plan: we'd walk over the 59th Street Bridge (singing Feliz Navidad the whole time, thanks to the tunes blaring in the coffee shop at the foot of the bridge) to Queens and then take the F to Roosevelt Island and then catch the noon tram back to Manhattan. Except that I'm not all that familiar with Long Island City, and it looked on the map like the foot of the bridge was not particularly close to the F train station.

So we made an alternate plan: we turned around and walked back to the foot of the bridge. Then strolled down first avenue to 50-somethingth street, where I turned so we could walk through the park that borders the FDR. Except that the street I picked had no access to that park.

So we made an alternate plan: we walked to the UN, turned right, and I went to work.
I hope that the next time Brian comes to visit he doesn't think twice and then make an alternate plan!

campho-phinique anyone?

I have the plague.

again.

only this time it's different.

worse.

uglier.

and on my face.

as if one cold sore's not enough, I have two.

they look even better now, but I can't bear to take another picture of them. that would be like feeding a gremlin after midnight, I'm afraid.

I actually feel like that old ad for campho-phinique, where the woman does the whole commercial from behind her hand.

makes it hard to shoot a film...

a new low.

I don't know, myspace, who worn that dress?

set your tivos (or vcrs, if you're like me...)

That's right ladies and gentlemen, the time has come for me to be on TV! (if you can't remember why, go here for some backstory)

I got a call from Richard (who says the clip of the show makes him look bad, which I disagree with) that our show is going to air on Monday, on the FOX network. It'll be on at 10am in NYC, 1pm in LA, 12pm in St. Louis, 9am in Des Moines and if I haven't covered you, check here, and find out for yourself when it'll air locally.

Wanna see a clip? Go here! Do it now! (Warning: you won't see me until the actual show, but it'll get you revved up and excited to tape it for me. Somebody will do that, right?)

how wasabi peanuts are like guys

If you've never had a wasabi peanut, you're totally missing out. They're these little balls of fire that explode in your mouth, obliterate your sinuses and head straight for your tear ducts. Kind of like a really good date.

1. Wasabi peanuts make you doubt your preconceptions.
You think you know what you're going to get when you purchase wasabi peanuts. You think they'll be tasty, crunchy, hot -- but not too hot -- and fun to snack on. Except that's not true for every nut in there. Some are so hot you have to get up and walk it off. Some are duds. Some make you search for a glass of milk; others, you're fine with just water. Just when you think you've found the perfect balance of salt and peanut, BAM! You're smacked in the sinuses. Or, conversely, you're munching on a bland mass of peanuty goodness, when all of a sudden, enough heat kicks in, and you're in love!

2. Too much is not always a good thing.

It's almost as much fun to think about eating wasabi peanuts than it is to actually eat them. Especially when you first start eating wasabi peanuts, it's important to find the balance between the fun of the crucnhy saltball and the pain of busted sinuses. I like knowing they're in my desk, taking them out every couple of hours and popping one in my mouth. When I have four in a row, I kind of want to die a little.

3. Neither belongs up your nose.

4. It's fun talking about wasabi peanuts with your friends.

Especially if your friends have tried eating wasabi peanuts. Then they know the secrets -- like how inhaling through your nose can actually decrease the pain of a wasabi burn. They can teach you some tricks, like using your hand to fan your face (it both dries your tears and gives you enough fresh air to stay alive).

5. Wasabi peanuts are entertaining.

Ok, so you can't talk to them or send them emails, but wasabi peanuts can make you chuckle when you're all alone at your desk. That's worth something.

6. Wasabi peanuts are not a meal.

A girl cannot subsist on wasabi peanuts alone. She must eat a balanced diet which is accentuated and enlivened by the occasional wasabi peanut.

7. They look so disarmingly cute, it's easy to forget how hard they kick.

Just because it's been a few days since your last wasabi peanut and you've forgotten what it was like, don't expect it to be the same this time. They can always surprise you. Nonetheless, you should be prepared, just in case it was like last time (when you ended up sticking your nose in the sink thinking it would help).

8. You either love them, or you don't.

And, boy howdy, do I love them!

a few scattered thoughts

1. Remember this?
Now it looks like this:
Yes, I have some very important pear eating to do later today. (and yes, in the interim I've acquired a really cool magnetic wipe-off board which current reads, "Kate Rocks? Yes!"

2. Chocolate cupcakes, while delicious, do not make a good breakfast.

3. Has everyone voted today? If not, go and do it! And, while you're there, consider voting the working families party line. They back the democratic candidates in all the major NY offices, so you're essentially voting democrat, but giving a smaller and lesser known party some important backing and support. More about them here. And over at procrastinet, RJ has some really good political writing (go here).

4. So they're trying to move the Intrepid from its mooring at 42nd Street, except that it's totally stuck. The museum is a client of ours, so one of my bosses went there yesterday for the big removal party, and she called early to say that things weren't going well, but that she wanted to stick around to hear the really big suck sound that the ship was likely to make after all those years in the mud. If that had happened, how utterly gratifying would it have been??

5. I'm a day late and a dollar short, but yesterday was Christina's birthday. Drop by and send her a happy birthday note. And check out her photos. She's super-duper hot. Moreso now that she's not bogged down with all that garbage about being in our 20s. (right?)

6. I wanted to do a whole photo essay on the geriatric pumpkins in my neighborhood, but I've waited too long now, and most of them have been sent off to the Great Pie Factory in the Sky, but this guy was along my route to work this morning.
Maybe next year...

the Prospect Park Synchronized Dorking Team!

I like to think that I'll be one of those parents who doesn't embarrass her kids. But I'm pretty sure that's just a delusionary notion on my part. Witness the rehearsal of the Prospect Park Synchronized Dorking Team:
Lisa and I decided that two dorks swinging as one would be more entertaining than one dork swinging alone.

We were right, of course.

However, one dork swinging solo can be exceptionally entertaining.

So much so that the cameraman (her husband, RJ) may have laughed himself off kilter (he was already cursed with a bum knee and a cane, which was constantly being taken from him by his clearly cane-deprived three year old)

See? I'll never be a source of grief, shame or utter misery for my children!

Right???