Monday, February 25, 2008

Dead Things: Or Why Poompy Loves Me

If you've ever been to my Flickr account, you know my fascination with dead things. Sadly, since I've gotten kind of used to living in NYC, I've stopped carrying my camera with me everywhere I go, so now I regularly miss good photo opportunities with the city's beautiful dead. Which just drives me nuts. I'll be walking down the street and I'll see a squashed rat and I'll stop in my tracks, squat on the pavement for a closer look, dig through my purse for my camera and then curse myself for leaving the camera at home. And then a moment passes as I'm squatting on the sidewalk hovering over the rotting carcass of some poor creature, where I seriously consider putting the thing in my pocket so that as soon as I get home I can take a picture of it. Or, if the thing is REALLY dried out, perhaps I can bring it home and just ... save it. Maybe to put in a frame at some later date*. How cool would that be? I think. But then the practical side of me (yes, I have one too) takes over and I realize how upset Poompy will be if he finds out I've stuck this dead rat or pigeon or sparrow or whatever in my pocket and brought it into our tenement. So I sigh, wistfully, and walk away, knowing I'll never have the opportunity to photograph that particular dead thing ever again.

A couple of weeks ago Jen brought Sexy Sadie into work with her for the afternoon. Sadie is a good little doggy, so she has free run of the spa when she's there. A few hours into the work day, I hear Jen screaming in the back. Before I have a chance to see what's going on, she's running up front with Sadie in her arms. "Oh my god! Is my dog's face OK? You'll never believe what just happened!" Sadie's face looked fine, so I follow Jen into the back room where there are two sprung mouse traps on the floor - one of them with a dried out little mouse in it. Apparently, Jen had gone in to check on Sadie and found her crunching on something which turned out to be the mummified mouse in the trap. (Jen was worried that the empty trap had sprung on Sadie's face, but we've since decided that it probably wasn't empty when Sadie found it. If you know what I mean.) So here I am, at work, with a lovely dead thing and no camera. I took a deep breath, looked at Jen and said, "Can I take it home?"

ÅND SHE DIDN'T MIND. You have no idea how thrilled I was to be able to take that little dead mousy home. We put him in a biohazard bag (it was the only plastic bag with a seal that we had around) and put that in a Dean & Deluca bag. I was worried Mr. Mouse would just crumble up if I stuck him loose in my purse. I had a lot going on that night, so I wasn't able to photograph him right away. Instead, he stayed in his baggies on top of my fridge. Until Poompy found him.

We're in the bitchen** getting ready for bed when Poompy asks me, "Hey, what's in this Dean & Deluca bag? Did you get cupcakes?" And because at the core of my being I'm actually quite cruel, I respond, "It's a treat I picked up for you. Open it!" He opened the bag, looked inside, looked up at me, grinned, put the bag back on top of the fridge and said, "I should've known," And that was that.

Does that mean I have permission to bring home dead things?



----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*In an envelope inside a box on the top shelf of a closet in the tenement is a dead frog that my parents sent me in the mail about ... oh gee, I guess that's nearly two years ago now. He's beautifully dried and quite gorgeous, really. I'm just waiting to find the time (and money) to bring him to a shop to have him framed. I think he'll look really nice in one of those glass, shadow-box type deals. A real conversation-starter, you know?

**You didn't forget about our bitchen, did you?

Thursday, February 21, 2008

CONGRATULATIONS DOPEY!!!!!!

YOU GUYS! My best fried Dopey just booked a national commercial! And got her SAG card! I am jumping up and down for her and in a perfect world, I would have sent her a giant bouquet of flowers today. But there's this thing that happens when you're broke. It involves the bank calling you because you have no money, which is just lame because honestly, it's not like they need to rub it in. Anyway, it means I can't do nice things like buy flowers. So this will have to do. If your name is Dopey and you are reading this, I just want you to imagine for a minute that a gorgeous muscular guy has just knocked on your door to hand you these...



And the card attached reads as follows:

Dopey,

You're my favorite Orbitz Girl EVER. Go you. Rock Hollywood, get famous, and let me use you for your connections.

xo,
Frosty


I heart you, Dopes!

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Unofficial - This is where YOU come in.

So, my darlings. Here is where I unofficially announce the launching of my sparkly new website, PatriciaFrost.net.

True, PatriciaFrost.net has been around for a while, but it has a whole new look! And I did it all by my little lonesome. Seriously. Your little Frosty, the notorious computard, built and designed and launched a website all by her wee little self. And it looks pretty good, if you ask me. Which you didn't. But still.

Now, I want you to go visit it and look at all the goodies and tell me if you think I forgot something crucial, or if something is confusing or unclear or if you think it's not user-friendly or if you thought something was superfluous..... or if you want to be linked and you aren't, or whatevs. Just don't be ambiguous. I don't like it when people say stuff like, "I think it looks good, but you should change blah blah because it would look better if you blabity bloop, but actually you don't really have to cuz it's OK the way it is," That is totally NOT helpful.

Also, um.... you can now hear me sing on the Media page. I haven't posted a film reel yet, because I still don't have that finished, but that is (I think) the ONLY thing missing from my website.

Oh, and I'm waiting to OFFICIALLY launch the website after I've heard from ALL of you. So there. Get to it!

www.patriciafrost.net. Or you can just click here.

Saturday, February 16, 2008

At Your Feet

I got this message from someone on Flickr:

:: At your feet


Hello I must say to you that you have the most beautiful
feet that I have see in my life. Thank you for your Photos
and for your album.
Pardon for this message and for my English who is very bad.
I am a Spanish slave, in this moment I don’t have
Mistress, It is a dream for me to be able to get to be your
servant, your maid, your butler, your houseboy, your cleaner
house, and your slave. I have 5 years of experience in the
submission and the servitude to a Mistress and her partner,
I had been her maid, her servant and the her partner’s
servant from 5 years ago.
It is a dream for me to be able to be your servant your
real slave a live in slave. I always have wanted to be able
to manage to be a slave 24/7,It is a dream to be able to
your slave and be able to belong to you, to your feet my
Princess
If you wish to have vacations/holidays in Spain in a house
on the beach, you have here your house and a slave 24 hours
to the day to your service.

At your feet always

Slave A.


You know, the thing is, if he's willing to give me mani/pedi's .... I might have to think about it.

PETA - They love animals.

PETA loves animals so much that they routinely "put them out of their suffering". Even when they aren't suffering. And they don't even get in trouble for it. Check it out one very small example here.

Friday, February 15, 2008

February 14, 2008. Oh Yeah.

Poompy and I have never celebrated Valentine's Day. We don't (he doesn't) "believe" in it. We think (he thinks) it's a stupid holiday invented by candy and card companies.

This year, I went against everything we (he) believe in and asked him if maybe, just this once, he might do just a little something to acknowledge the day. No big deal, you know, just a card. Or a flower. Or if he wanted to go all out, he could pen a little haiku. Just something. I thought he'd roll his eyes and scoff at me when I brought it up, but I was pleasantly surprised when he responded, "Sure! That sounds like fun!" And then I pretty much forgot I'd asked, because, you know, I'm a chick.

I get home from work last night and there's a huge bouquet of orange roses (my favorite rose color) in a vase in the kitchen. Poompy is wearing a suit and grinning at me, "Hurry up and change! We gotta go!" I didn't even have time to ask where, I just threw on a dress, touched up my makeup and we were out the door. He took me to this Ethiopian restaurant across the street that we've both been wanting to try, but we're always too lazy to get dressed up for (it's sort of fancy - meaning you have to wear something other than dirty sweat pants) and we had a wonderful dinner. Then he surprised me with front row center tickets to 'The Seafarer'. SO FRONT ROW THAT MY TOES WERE TOUCHING THE STAGE. Holy. Crap. It was the best thing I've ever seen. The play itself was wonderful and the acting was pretty close to brilliant. I mean, it was a stunning production. Everyone was incredible. And we were literally sitting just a few inches away from the center of the stage. There were moments I was afraid of getting kicked in the head. I could reach out, without even leaning forward, and rest my hand on the stage. At one point during the show, a prop rolled off the stage and landed in Poompy's lap and he handed it to me and I put it in my bra* for the rest of the show, and then during the standing ovation at curtain call, I took it out of my bra and handed it to the actor standing closest to me. It was an absolutely thrilling, exquisite, perfect night. I will never forget it. 

I'll let you in on an awesome little secret: the entire evening cost us less than a hundred bucks**. Because apparently, we are (Poompy is) learning how to rock New York.

When the show was over, and we stood up to put our coats on, I suddenly burst into tears because - being that close to the stage - And Poompy was like, "I know baby, we got good seats," but no, no, that wasn't it. I was suddenly overwhelmed by the realization that I'm standing on this very thin line between being an audiance member in a Broadway show and being an Actor IN a Broadway show. I feel like it's really close, you guys. Really close.

*Yeah, I know. I was just going to hold it, but my hand got tired. Stop laughing. I'm serious. I thought about putting it in my purse, but I was afraid it would get lost amongst the crap in there. I hadn't decided if I was going to keep (steal) the prop or give it back, and in the end, because I have a conscious the size of Jupiter, I gave it back. Poompy said he wished he hadn't given it to me, because he would have kept it. I said it was a karma thing and I just had to give it back.

** We're starving artists! What do you want from us?


loldogs-cute-puppy-pictures-seecretlvrs.jpg
see more loldogs ask - i can has hotdog?

Friday, February 01, 2008

New York - the 411 (Frosty Version)

My mamacita is totally dying to get all the deets on my recent "vacation", and just in case you are too, I am providing them here.

But first, let me explain that the reason I put "quotation marks" around the word "vacation" is because while I certainly "felt" like I was on a "vacation", I never actually "left" my "tenement". I mean, I totally left the tenement "every" day, but then at "night" I "slept" there. As "opposed" to sleeping in a "hotel". Which is "why" it was a "vacation" instead of a vacation. And now I'm "just" using "quoatation marks" at "random" to be annoy"ing".

Now here are the details.

But first, (I know, you can't stand the anticipation) let me tell you why I had a "vacation". Because it was my birthday! And my Best Fried Dopey came to visit from LA as my present which also makes her my Best Fried Present. AND she wrote all about her trip here. So... read it. Now. And then come back and finish reading this.

K. Details. Below. Now. For Reals. Right after now. Now. Now.

THURSDAY, MY BIRTHDAY: I woke up and ate breakfast. Then I went to yoga with Poompy. Then I took a shower. Then -

Whoa. Sorry. That's really boring. You don't really want to know all that crap. K. I'll start with when Dopey showed up on my stoop and I was all excited and stuff and she gave me a big ol' hug and I was like, WHOA! Why is she touching me? And then I remembered that people in Los Angeles don't think it's weird to hug, so then I was all like, WHOA! Awesome! And I hugged her back. Then I gave her a tour of the tenement and then we exchanged birthday presents. First, Dopey gave me a gift from my BFF Shmadam, which was freaking awesome (I love you Schmadam) and then, even though she TOTALLY didn't have to get me a present because she WAS my present (seriously, flying 3,000 miles to spend my birthday with me is the best present EVER, no offense Shmadam, I know you know what I mean) she gave me a copy of The Moon and Sixpence by W. Somerset Maugham. I'm really excited to read it because I know it is a book that has a lot of meaning for her and I think it will carry a lot of meaning for me, too. But I'm in the middle of reading Poompy's book right now, so it will have to wait a bit as it is impossible for me to read more than one book at a time. I'm just not one of those people.

Anyway, so then we headed off into Times Square (read: The Dunkin Donuts in Times Square) for some sight-seeing (read: coffee drinking). We eventually ended up on the same block that Poompy works on, so I brought her by the restaurant just to say hi, but the owner found out it was my birthday and so he forced us to sit down, and then he forced us to enjoy some delicious shrimp cocktail (I got Dopey to eat shrimp cocktail for like, the first time EVER. And she LOVED it. Contrary to her belief, it does NOT taste like bugs) and then he forced us to have several cocktails. ALL on the house. What a mean, mean man. (Read: Awesome, awesome man.) So now, we're all like, tipsy and stuff and Poompy was done with work, so the three of us hopped onto the subway and headed uptown to have dinner with friends at my favorite antipasto bar. (By the way, Sibley. Just so you know, Dopey was totally slick in both the purchasing of and the swiping of her metro card. She was faster than Poompy!) We had a lovely dinner that included a birthday song and some molten cake, and then we crashed at Jen's apartment to watch the newest Grey's Anatomy. Which was kind of lame. But that's OK, because the evening was freaking awesome. And then we went home. And cleaned up dog pee. Well, Poompy and I cleaned up dog pee and Dopey brushed her teeth for about forty minutes.

FRIDAY: We set out early (is 2 p.m. early?) for some shopping and sight-seeing. We walked past Radio City Music Hall, we admired the Chrysler Building (from afar), we wandered in Rockefellar Center and laughed at the ice skaters that fell on their asses, and then I took her to Starbucks (because I'm pretty sure they don't have those in LA) and then we did some hardcore 5th Ave shopping. 5th Ave had no idea what to expect. You see, Dopey and I are Master Shoppers. We have developed some pretty amazing skillz when it comes to shopping together. Seriously. We're Ninja Shoppers. Unicorn Shoppers. Magical Fairy Shoppers. I mean, even alone we're pretty good, but when we're together.... man oh man. The shop clerks didn't even know what hit them.

After several hours of exercising our Shopping Muscles we were STARVED so we went for dinner at Patsy's and then we walked over to Serendipity 3 for their famous frozen hot chocolate. And HOLY CRAP that stuff was good. Except for the 435 lb woman who stared at my frozen hot chocolate the ENTIRE time I was sipping it, the whole experience was lovely. We spent the rest of the evening shop-shop-shoppping, even though we could barely waddle what with our full bellies and all. By the time we got home, we literally passed out from Shopping Exhaustion. OH! I almost forgot. I also took Dopey to see the Statue of Liberty that day!

K, between you, me, and the lamppost, I know that that is not the "real" Statue of Liberty. Dopey was confused at first, because she expected it to be bigger and someone had told her it was on an island, but then I told her that people were much smaller in the olden days, and that made the statue "seem" bigger. And that the island it's on is really the island of Manhattan. (Even though we all know it's really on Brooklyn. Geez.)  She totally bought it. So don't say anything to her, k? I just didn't feel like a trip to Brooklyn while she was here and I thought taking her to one of the plaster rip-offs in Times Square would be WAY easier. Besides. I don't know. I've never really been to Brooklyn.

SATURDAY: We hit the 10:30 a.m. yoga class at my yoga studio and then we spent a good two hours or so primping. Well... I did. I'm not sure what Dopey was doing. OH! She was chatting with me. Duh. That's why I took so long! She was distracting me. Ha. When I finally looked pretty, we headed uptown. We did a little shopping along the way - Dopey bought a kick ass mood ring that provided hours of entertainment (though I hear it has since given her finger a most attractive green hue.) I walked her past the Dakota, through Central Park, we stopped at W******* to say hi to the girls and so I could show Dopey where I work, and then we stopped at Dunkin Donuts, shared a grilled cheese "sandandwich" from a bodega and stopped to ogle the apartment building which was used as the facade for Holly Golightly's apartment building in Breakfast at Tiffany's. Then, since we were right there, we walked through the first neighborhood I lived in when I first moved to NY. It was strange to be there - it's been nearly a year now! Anyhow, we couldn't wander for too long because we needed to primp for my birthday party. And you KNOW how long it takes me to primp. So we got home, and primped and primped and I tried on eight different outfits, some of which belonged to Dopey, and when we were finally ready, we took a cab downtown for my party which gave us a nice little driving tour of Chelsea and the Village - I was able to point out Hotel Chelsea, you know, where Sid stabbed Nancy. My birthday party was freaking awesome. Lots of good friends showed up, and those who couldn't were missed. But all the same, it was a fantastic night. Except for the part where a drag queen projectile vomited all over the stage and then masturbated a rubber penis. Except for that part, it was really a fantastic night.

SUNDAY: We woke up bright and early and went to yoga. HA! Yeah right! We slept until after noon more like it! (My birthday party had kept us out past 4 a.m. the night before. That morning? Whatever.) We'd both really wanted to go to Glennis's Dance Dance Party Party, but it started at 2 and Dopey didn't think bouncing around with a severe hangover would be good for ANYONE. So instead, we took the mutts to the dog park for a bit. Dopey got peed on and the Chiremlin tried to start a fight. But that isn't unusual. After that we were in dire need of greasy food and coca-cola, so we got some and curled up in my living room to watch 'Into the Wild'. We eventually got our butts in gear to get to Jen's for game night....but that just turned into a bunch of girl talk (sorry Sibley) and no actual game playing was had.

MONDAY: We went down to Union Square, the lower east side and then to SoHo this day. Did some more shopping, ate some more good food (Red Bamboo, introduced to me by JT), and had some more Dunkin D. We had to head back early to meet Sibley for a top secret mission by 7. Unfortuantely it fell through, but we managed to have a good time sitting in a coffe shop and having some seriously NSFW conversations TOTALLY worthy of overheardinnewyork. Did someone say DVDA?!?!? Then, to culminate the vacation, Dopes and I rented a few chick flicks, made some crispy treats and had a pillow fight in our panties.

You sicko. We SO did not do that. I've never had a pillow fight with anyone other than my brothers in my ENTIRE life. And all participants were fully clothed. Dopes and I DID rent chick flicks and we DID make crispy treats but the rest of the evening was spent curling our hair, cuddling stuffed animals and talking about boys.

TUESDAY: Sibley, Dopey and I reconvened for our top secret mission. Well, we had breakfast first and introduced Sibley to the "LA" idea of on-time...you know...45 minutes late. (Totally Dopey's fault.) After the mission was accomplished we had some more coffee talk and then it was time for Dopey to leave. And once she was gone, I sat down on my bitchen floor and sobbed. Because, for a moment, I could not remember WHY I am so far away from the ones I love.