Saturday, July 17, 2010

Happy things

I was trying to take a picture of this rad tote my friend J. Penry made in conjunction with the awesome Wicker Man inspired art show The Ritual which was recently at the By and By gallery on Grand Street.

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Unfortunately there was a little interference.

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Apparently Omar doesn't like the idea of me taking pictures of any cat but him. And so, I'm pleased to introduce the newest member of the Hames/Ragon household, little Omar Little. Sound familiar? He's named after this guy:



Look it's everyone's favorite shotgun toting, drug dealer robbing, Baltimore bad ass and one of the greatest television characters of all time! No big deal. I was thinking about naming him Mouzone after my other favorite gunman from the show, but the Nation of Islam goes a little too deep for my taste.

Oh and also in the tote picture please allow me to point out the amazing old Howard Stern pin Sean found in one of his dresser drawers. Sean's a huge old Howard fan who even went to one of his rallies back in the day. I charmed him in part by mentioning I had just listened to Artie talk about his book on the air when I spied Sean's copy of "Too Fat to Fish" by his bedside on my first night over. Sean may not realize this, but that pin is going to live on my tote for the next long while.

Anyway, expect more kitten pictures soon and some pictures of beer bongs for old times sake (some things never change, like my friends and their love of non-traditional beer ingestion.)

Internal Strife

Been stuck on a downer train for the past couple of weeks. It started with a pain in the lower right side of my abdomen. After two days I made an appointment with another doctor who shared my primary physicians office as my own doc was out for the day. She gave me a pelvic examination. She sent me to Beth Israel, a hospital I've dictated previous experiences at here and here. She said she had to rule out appendicitis. She called ahead, I didn't have to wait long to get a bed. I changed into a robe and waited to be seen. The doctor's smugness didn't match the cartoon whales on his tie. He took one look at me and told me I didn't have appendicitis. Yeah, I coulda told him that, but the pain in my right side was there, it was real, and it was right where my appendix was. I asked him if the scan would show another cause, be it ovarian or otherwise and he said it probably would. In the meantime I pissed in my second cup of the day and got an ultrasound on my belly. The doctor told me it pretty boring inside of my uterus. That's the word he used, not "routine" or "normal" but boring. He got gel all over my panties. It could have been prevented. They gave me a pitcher of liquid to drink over the next hour. I drank. I waited. Two hours. The IV in my arm started hurting. They kept it in just in case they needed to take more blood. They didn't. Finally my blood tests came back, my second pregnancy test of the day was negative, everything else looked normal. Time for the CAT scan. I was escorted into a room. The technician was on the phone. I sat and I waited. She finally noticed me after about four minutes. She went to find the radiologist. She couldn't find the radiologist. She tried to call the radiologist, the radiologist didn't answer. She paged the radiologist, the radiologist didn't answer. A line started to form with patients waiting for their CAT scans. Finally another radiologist came down. They told me they were going to put something in my veins that may make my mouth feel warm. It did. It also made my pelvis feel like it was on fire. It passed and I passed through the machine. Back into my bed, an elderly hypochondriac was talking about gout. Her husband was humoring her. The smug doctor was friendly with her. He was ignoring me. She started whimpering. I laid there still in pain. The doctor came back. He told me he didn't have appendicitis. I told him I figured. I asked him if anything else showed up. He said I had two small cysts on my ovaries. I asked him if that's why it hurt. He said maybe. He gave me a prescription for Percocet for my troubles and discharged me.

I called my doctor on the telephone. She said that I should go see a gynecologist. I went to see the one at Beth Israel's Union Square medical building. It was on the second floor. There was a piano in the center of the open space between offices. No one was playing it when I went in. I signed in. Everyone else was pregnant. I waited. The gynecologist saw me. She was friendly until she stuck two fingers up my ass without me expecting it. She said the two cysts were small and normal and probably not the problem. With her hand inside me she pressed on two spots on my abdomen and asked me if they hurt. I said no. She said, "I just had your ovaries in my hand and you didn't have a flicker of pain. I was watching your face, nothing changed." I agreed. I asked her what now. She said, "It could be a hernia, irritable bowel syndrome, a bone fragment, a slipped disc in your back, it could be any number of things." That didn't make me feel better. She said a word I didn't understand and don't remember. I asked her what it meant, she said it meant I was essentially a mystery at this point but I should come back for a sonogram next week. That was all she told me. I waited for the woman at the desk to stop talking about cooking. She was busy convincing her co-workers that she could indeed cook. She was talking about meat. How she rinsed it before cooking it and then doused it in rum so it wouldn't taste fresh. I asked for an appointment next week. She said they were full for the next three weeks and gave me a number to call somewhere else. I walked back out to the mezzanine to make the call. A red-headed woman sat down at the piano, made eye-contact with me and started playing. I couldn't hear well enough to make the call so I walked away. The other doctor didn't have any openings for three weeks and one day. I went back to the office and scheduled my sonogram for August.

I called my doctor. She said I should come in. I'd been in pain for a few weeks and nothing had changed. I told her about the gynecologist. She felt my belly. Said something about my intestines. Told me I needed to see a gastrointestinologist. Maybe they needed to do a colonoscopy. Maybe they needed to do plenty of things, but it was beyond her medical reach. I sighed. I told her I just wanted to know, be it good or bad. I started thinking about everything I did, my posture when I sat, the position in which I slept, everything I ate and drank. All the seemingly harmless things that could be making my phantom condition worse. She asked me if I noticed any situations that seemed to make things worse. Walking, having sex, eating, and going to doctors. She said she thought it might be a hernia. Or a muscle strain. Or an injury from having sex. That's when I felt the pain for the first time, during sex. She gave me another prescription for Percocet, as I was nearly out. My mom was in town visiting. She was in the waiting room waiting for me. I had to rephrase what doctor told me. Didn't want to lay it straight out, that maybe I had hurt myself getting railed too hard by my boyfriend.

I am seeing the gastrointestinologist on Wednesday. I was told to keep my appointment for the sonogram and the follow-up appointment with the gynecologist. I keep telling people I hope it's not irritable bowel syndrome (which it's not, my bowels are working like champs) or a hernia because those two things seem embarrassing.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Public Celibacy

Note: I understand how ridiculous it is that I'm actually writing about something in the Post annoying me. Almost everything in the NY Post annoys me, I read it for the crossword puzzle more than anything else. Still, this who celibacy thing really hit a nerve.

I was reading yet another article in the NY Post today about NY women opting for celibacy. First of all, in it's digging for famous representatives of the "new celibacy" it handed us the misinformation that Courtney Love is currently celibate. Love stated on Howard Stern that she didn't have sex for four years while working on the new Hole record, but that she's back on the banging wagon since she finished recording (if you haven't watched the interview and you have access of Howard OnDemand you should, it's captivating as Love generally is when she's somewhat lucid.) So in typical Post fashion it tries to convince us this is a "trend" by smattering in a few famous gals with stories of "regular" New Yorkers. Too bad their regular New Yorkers consist of Julia Allison and a former Miss Teen Alabama.

Honestly, none of this bothered me as much as how tacky I really think going public with your vow of celibacy really is. Religiously motivated virginity is one thing, but a "sex break" is a whole other. It's no one business who you are having sex with so why is it anyone's business who you aren't? There was a time in my life when I wasn't really having sex. I was newly sober and figuring my shit out. I didn't write a book about it, I didn't feel the need to call it a lifestyle change. It was, simply, being responsible and taking care of myself. Sometimes sex is a good thing, sometimes it isn't. It depends on the individual and where she is at. But honestly, if you need to not have sex to be able to record an album, you probably don't have a healthy enough relationship with sex to be having it when that album is done.

Also, in the Post's reference to Gaga's celibacy, it takes her quote out of context. Her stance is pro-relationship and anti-promiscuity. No sex without commitment. That's hardly celibacy. And while I do appreciate the punny headline, "They're Havin' a Celibation" crowing over a ragged photo of Courtney Love, I'm so sick of this shit.

I have no problem with celibacy, your pussy and whatever you want to do with it is your perogative, but this isn't even celibacy. It's just not promiscuity. These women aren't in relationships and I can bet you if they were in committed relationships they would be having sex. If they were saying they were avoiding relationships for the sake of productivity they wouldn't be in a sexy pictorial in the Post.

Furthermore, I think this is bad for women in general. We're once again returning to this notion that we are the gatekeepers to sex. We are the ones who are the decision makers, the naysayers. Aside from Lenny Kravitz, men don't make the news by saying they are off sex. But again, celibacy is far different from just "not putting out." It's great to avoid hyper-sexualizing oneself but come on. There is nothing abnormal about not having promiscuous sex. And really Julia Allison? Is it worth a fucking press release because you decided not to have sex for a month?!?! I mean that's what humans do after a bad breakup, they take either dive in deep or take a breather.

I am having difficulty vocalizing what exactly is bothering me here. I guess it's partially this notion that women can't be productive creative individuals when they are involved with men, sexually or romantically. Instead of casting off the notion of relationships, sexual or not, maybe we should be more focused on casting off the roles we take in these relationships and the relationship we have with not just our sexuality but our partners. If you need to not have sex with people right away in order to find the proper partner, that makes sense, but don't call it celibacy for fuck's sake.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Just so you know

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Sorry, been too busy building an empire in Greenpoint to blog. Things are getting nutty but we're so close to being ready to reopen the shop. For those of you not in the know, I've been working my way into a partnership since the summer at Fox and Fawn. As of January, the partnership is a solid "go" as we decided to relocate the store from it's quiet Suffolk Street location in the LES to a much busier block in Greenpoint Brooklyn. We'll be on the same block of Manhattan Ave as Enids, right next to Three Kings Tattoo.

So far I've learned how to install laminate flooring, fallen off a ladder, painted a drop ceiling, hit my fingers with a hammer more than a couple of times, bitten off what's left of my fingernails, gotten reacquainted with driving on the BQE, and had more mini-misadventures than I could possibly recount. Oh and Marissa got food poisoning from Palace Fried Chicken.

My boyfriend Sean is opening a record store in our space and I'm super stoked about it. I think it will add another dimension to our shop and will make it more dude-friendly, although we've been really upping our men's section and it's definitely regaining it's former glory.

All of this is super exciting and incredibly scary at the same time. It's a risk and I know it will pay off but still, I'm finally going to be a full-time small business owner and that's intense. I won't go into the details of the anxieties this holds because I've already learned that it's something that most people can't really relate to, just as I couldn't really relate to my friends who were freelancers stuck hounding former employers for long-overdue paychecks when I had a steady hourly job. But I will say that the anxieties are many but the payoff is well worth it. I mean come on, I'll never have a boss again, just this wonderful thing called a partner. It goes without saying that I could never have done any of this without Marissa, I mean she founded the fucking store five years ago! If any of you get an opportunity like I did to earn your place in a small business through monetary investment or sweat equity or whatever, I strongly suggest you consider it. I never imagined myself owning a business ever throughout the years and years I worked retail because I never could imagine doing it myself, never could imagine coming up with the money or taking a risk and borrowing it. When I got this opportunity I can safely say that it was nothing short of life-changing and we've got so many big ideas for the future of Fox & Fawn and I have no doubt that they are achievable.

A while ago I wrote about participating in my friend Anjali's performance piece at a church for the Vice Blog. In it I mentioned that I learned a valuable lesson many years ago that was essential to say YES to life. If someone offers you an opportunity it's usually because they see some sort of potential in you. Instead of being mired by self-doubt sometimes it's good to trust a friend and just go for it. To say YES where in the past you may have said NO because you didn't think you were good enough, capable enough, you weren't confident enough, bold enough, brave enough.

I took it one step further when Marissa was talking about not wanting to run Fox & Fawn by herself any longer. I decided to ask. I asked her instead of waiting to be asked because sometimes you realize that the asking may never come and you have to make a grab at a possibility. I mean what's the worse that could happen, someone could say NO and you're life would be where it was before. Sure there's always that worry of putting someone in an awkward spot and making them feel obligated to say YES to you even if they don't really want to but if you are a person with an ounce of perceptiveness you know when you are really not wanted and frankly when it comes to the very important stuff (artistic endeavors, businesses and the such) most of my friends are wise-enough to go with their instincts instead of other people's egos.

And thank god I asked because in that instant something that never had really occurred to either of us as an option (she hadn't asked me because she assumed I wasn't interested and I had never expressed interest because I assumed she would have asked if she though I'd be a good match) became a reality and my life is far better because of it thanks in part of my putting it out there and Marissa for believing in me.

Whew! And that's life according to Beverly. Your sermon for the day. Positivity is underrated.

Friday, February 12, 2010

[Flickr] White Castle Likes Your Photo!

White Castle Party!

Dear White Castle enthusiast,

We saw your stuff online. We dig it. We like it so much, in fact, that we’d like to include your video or picture on WhiteCastle.com.

Before we can post your work, we need your permission. Read the legal stuff below and email us back. As you’ll see, we offer no compensation, we simply provide the stage to showcase your White Castle-inspired genius.

Please reply with a copy and paste of one of these options:

1. Yes, I’ve read and agree to all terms and I allow White Castle to use my photo, "White Castle Party!" on whitecastle.com.

2. No, I do not consent for White Castle to use my content on whitecastle.com.

Thank you for your talent, devotion, and for saying yes. Thank you for recognizing and responding to the crave. If you have any concerns, call Debbie Cline at White Castle, 614-559-2577.

Long live the crave,

Your friends at White Castle


LICENSE, PUBLICITY RELEASE, AND WAIVER OF CLAIMS

In making and agreeing to this License, Publicity Release, and Waiver of Claims (“Agreement”), it is understood and agreed that I rely wholly upon my own judgment, belief and knowledge of my contractual rights and obligations under this Agreement, and that I have not been influenced to any extent whatsoever in making this Agreement by any representations or statements regarding said Agreement, or regarding any other matters, made by the persons, firms or corporations who are hereby released, or by any person or persons representing them.

In consideration of having my textual, photographic, video, or other original content (“Content”) considered for inclusion in White Castle’s web site or other branding efforts, I grant White Castle Management Co. and its subsidiaries, affiliates, legal representatives and assigns (“White Castle”), without further obligation, a perpetual, worldwide, royalty free license to use, alter, reproduce, and publicly or privately display, broadcast, perform, or distribute the Content, in whole or in part, in any commercial or noncommercial manner, and in any media now known or hereafter developed.

I further grant White Castle the absolute right and permission to use my name, image, and likeness as it may be displayed or otherwise included in association with the Content and hereby waive all rights to inspect or approve of any specific use of the Content, waive all related rights of publicity, moral rights, and claims based upon those rights, and release, discharge, and agree to hold harmless and indemnify White Castle from any liability or claims of intellectual property infringement or right of privacy or persona violation or infringement which may arise by virtue of such use of the Content. I warrant and represent that the Content does not infringe the intellectual property rights of any third party and does not contain the name, image, or likeness of any individuals without their knowledge and consent to such use as contemplated herein. I also hereby waive any claims of trademark infringement or false endorsement for use of my name or likeness in connection with use of the Content or any image or work derived therefrom.

I hereby warrant that I am an adult and have every right to contract in my own name in the above regard. I hereby state further that I have read the above Agreement prior to indicating my agreement or disagreement to the terms, and that I am fully familiar with the contents thereof.

Friday, January 15, 2010

Void Vision at Wierd!

I did an interview with these kids that was excerpted on the Vice Blog, check it out!

I also took a bunch of pics from that night, enjoy!

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