This week… oof…

Also, what those oh-so-harried CNBC moderators must have been thinking…

And almost Halloween! My fave holiday (except that I pretty much love all holidays… let’s celebrate arbor day!!!) I’ve been in total crisis… I lost several key pieces of my usual leather cat costume… owing to a romantic mishap last year… the little jingle collar was truly the best. Alas 😦 I looked everywhere for it.

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Now, all I have left is a sad crayon outfit and a Louis CK wig… like this one Lena Dunham’s wearing… She really nailed it though, didn’t she?

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But I just can’t be Louis CK this year… even if I DO feel like him right now. Cranky… though not quite as bloated…

The best Halloween get ups are immediately graspable, topically funny, without being too obscure or trying too hard… but you know there are going to be scads of sexy pizza rats taking over the city this year… so, I’ve decided to be a Freudian Slip… I’m simply going to wear a nightie with a bunch of psych terms pinned to it, like… “hysteria”, “narcissism” and “Oedipus Complex.” For a time there, I was thinking of going super meta–given the accident–and going as a Picasso or Ava from AI, but it all felt too high concept…

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Next year… when I’m feeling more bionic and badass… Happy Halloween G-Spots 🙂 May your night be welling over with trick and treats… of all the sweetest kind.

xoxo – gg

Sorry robbers!! Of needful things, restlessness… and the marriage of keys

Between the heat… and healing, I am RESTLESS.

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My entire being itches with a NEED to travel. Always changing and changeless, at least the city offers some consolation… some relief from having to stay put and learn how to say the word: “M’waaaaaaah!”

Stupid speech therapy.

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I feel like I have hives… I have always been this way. Even as a paperclip of a kid… growing up in northern California, I’d rub my shoulder against the chafed earlobe of routine (like that scamp in the awesome film Life is a Long Quiet River)


… I’d tell my second grade teacher (who had an epic hipster ‘stache) that I simply couldn’t do last night’s spelling words… owing to the fact that our family was going on holiday to Brazil (a big fat lie)… and what with Portuguese having over 7000 irregular verbs (a big fat truth)… well, that was the real priority at this juncture… When people would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I’d tell them Indiana Jones with a typewriter… So much for that, M’waaaaaah!

Of course, I realized the other day that if I am actually going to go anywhere this summer… I’d need to fix my front door. It hasn’t locked from the outside for over a year now. Don’t tell anyone. My neighbor had the same problem. It wasn’t hard to fix. I just dipped the key in olive oil and decided not to be in a hurry one morning. So, sorry robbers… You missed out on a really ancient iPad (seriously, the Commodore 64 has more juice) and some killer coffee stained Eugene Atget photography books!

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To be honest, every apartment I have ever lived in here has involved a strange marriage of lock and key–some very specific, singular, long-term relationship of scraping metals… one borne of years of repetitive wear… of clicking and clacking, inning and outing, poking and prying. I really didn’t think much of it,  but now it’s fixed.

Entering one’s 4th decade forces a unique brand of practicality on a person… By now, you have figured out how to fix most household things like locks and fuses and garbage disposals… You finally learn your real bra (cock) size… 34 D??? Holy crap!!! That’s HUGE!

And suddenly, tiny house design seems awesome…

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(I am obsessed with living small)

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You’ve also figured out that your standard daily uniform is short pants, tall shoes and messy hair…

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and with that… you come to covet very practical, tangible things… each very specific… the big, floppy straw hat with the 10 inch brim to ward off cancer-ish stuff… that the sugar cube is actually just the right amount of sugar for your coffee… amazing tinted sunscreens by Laura Mercier … that red Chanel lipstick is the only lipstick you truly need…  and  unexpected things…. like my friend Deb has these fabulous one-of-a-kind, handmade harem pants with elephants on them that I am so going to totally steal someday.

Maybe you even finally stop ass-shaming yourself… and realize things are pretty fine and dandy ass-is??

You may even develop some unlikely heroes…  like Isabel Marant. I love that her solution to getting a tan is drinking more carrot juice… completely charming.

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I really do covet her life. Oh… this new book isn’t going to write itself… Pray for cooling rain dear Gotham-ites! Do a rain dance… in secret… if you must.

xx- gg

2015: Year of the Bread Cleanse

Aren’t these 2 things…Sex and Bread… ideas we can all relate to?

Happy 2015 people…  I can’t believe it’s already been a year since I failed to become a better person.

I’ve been mulling over different new year’s resolutions… Most are such a terrible yawn… Things like flossing, wearing sunscreen, not leaving wet towels on the bed and doing things like squats and lunges to stave off gravity… Most of these I will forget or reject by Tuesday. You will too.

No… I’d like to make this year’s resolutions more about New York… and less about squats.

Resolution #1 – Go on a “Bread Cleanse” 

Screw all these newage-sewage resolutions to go on a “juice cleanse”… Not only is juicing pretentious, it’s yucky. Fess up New Yorkers, do you really want to down a quart of kale-beet-garlic-turnip sludge? You might feel righteous in the moment as you are choking it down, but trust me, pooping purple is not going to make you feel any healthier.

Instead, I’m going on a “bread cleanse”.  I’m going to eat nothing but croissants, muffins and brioche for a whole week, and I guarantee you now that I will feel happier and healthier at the end of it. Before and after pix to come…

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Resolution #2 – Become the “Building Fairy”

NYC is about “the building”. There’s none of this ridiculous apartment vs. single family home class warfare that you’ll find in other cities. Everyone lives in a building.

Our building is like many old school, prewar upper westside edifices. Great bones, beautiful details, but everything’s just a little bit broken… the front door sticks, the toilet seat is missing a bolt, so it slides around with you sit down, the heat works too much in the bathroom and not enough in the back bedroom. The lobby could use a re-fresh–or at least some Mr. Clean. We also have something that’s uber rare in NYC and a little bit broken…a back yard…it’s been completely abandoned. Dead plants, junk and a dirty old dinner table. It’s a total travesty.

And I’m taking it back!

In the dead of night… when everyone is sleeping… I am going to become the Magic Building Fairy. I’m going to do some reverse vandalism and leave some figurative treats under figurative pillows… I’m spraying that stupid sticky lock w/ WD40, planting a shitload of flowers, fixing the patio furniture and hanging some solar string lights because this coming year, I’m vowing to have a bunch of these:

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Because dinner parties always lead to good things, like bread and sex.

Resolution #3 – Wear pants less often

Lastly…In NYC, heat is free and our apartment hovers at a balmy 82 degrees throughout the winter. I am going to channel my inner and outer Lena Dunham and dispense with the whole pants paradigm from now on. I’ll save on laundry, be more environmental… and if Lena can do it… and oog out half of America… so can I.

The point is, pants are overrated.

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Besides, it’s always good to accept one’s own bodily realities in the face of bread.

And if you get to ride through the streets of NYC on this guy… well then a very happy 2015 to you my friend…

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xx-gg