29 March, 2007

Automatic flush

It's been brewing for a while, my anger with toilets. It's not just New York, but given I spend so much time here I might as well blame it on her as well and anyone or anthing else.

My beef is with the auto-flush. No matter how still I sit, how much I try to balance my weight evenly, nor how few seconds I've actually spent there, I still end up being auto-immuned. For those not in the know, that's when the toilet commences it's gushing, indelicate suck of the bowl with you (or in this case, me) still on it. Not only do I get the fright of my life every single time (endless capacity for surprise), it causes me to make a premature semi-leap off the seat to avoid being sprayed by my own watery pee. Which inevitably leads to me being sprayed by my pee anyways. Goddammit!

I looked up HowStuffWorks to find out "why me", but instead found alot of other angry people. Check out Nick Schultz' disturbing male tale of woe (click here): 'The auto-flush toilet violates two basic rules of technology adoption: Never replace a technology with an inferior technology; and never confiscate power from your users. Still, hands-free technology is flushing the competition. According to Pete DeMarco, the director of compliance engineering at American Standard (the largest toilet manufacturer in the world), auto-flushers constitute 30 to 40 percent of commercial sales today, and that number continues to rise.'

21 March, 2007

29 and counting

Shudder. Still in recovery from a vicious case of the flu, it was great (if not a little unwise) to be out for a night of revelry in tea cups. Thanks to all who made an appearance: ME (applause), Julian, Annah, Sara, Jessica, Jenn+friends, Paul+1, Rich+Michael+2. And those who didn't: Narguess, you know who you are.

18 March, 2007

Sick as a dog

It was hard work, but well worth the trek to PS1 in Queens. On show was a collection of works by artists, that they had refused to sell. Awesome. And this amazing work, by an artist whose name I would share, if I could find the piece of paper I'd written her name on. Basically a moving montage of hand gestures ripped from daytime TV, 70's sitcoms and the like - all punctuated by an improv. jazz track that just talked and talked.

This just in - I found the scrap of paper - the artist's name was Catherine Ross and the work was called 'Trilling'. Peter Halley had some interesting diagrams of journeys and places, and Eric Fischl was showing some beautiful, if somewhat erotic, painting.

14 March, 2007

Dead man bicycling

It's a sad thing to see in any city, but here in New York what's left is just plain ghostly. Wlaking on the edge of Soho last weekend, I came across this bike, left by friends as a memorial to a cyclist killed on the road. Half-buried in snow, it was a scary site on a seemingly quiet corner. Makes me think twice about cycling here, I can tell you.

01 March, 2007

World's saddest snowman + other celebrity sightings

As the weather warms, the stars come out to play. After 3 gruelling months of humiliation at not seeing a single bloody celebrity, my dry spell was broken in a most spectacular way. Yoga class next to Sofia Coppola, who I watched from a headstanding position, unable to concentrate. I said nothing and forgot to breathe. Essentially, I wasted a yoga class but got a little heart flutter in return. So worth it.