TODAY IN PHAEA VS THE MOSQUITO AND FEVER INDUCED REALIZATIONS ABOUT SCIENTOLOGY PLOTS:

For the past few days I have been horribly sick with some weird combination of a cold,allergies, and general stress. This usually happens to me when the weather changes to spring/summer and I have to start having my window open in my room. During this last horrible illness I noticed that my screen doesn't touch my window glass, meaning that there is a small slant of open space which allows any sort of bug to fly in.

Last night I realized I was trapped in my little room with a monstrous mosquito. Here is how it played out:

1) I hear the fucking mosquito buzzing by my ear as I am watching hulu.com. I sweep at the air.
2) I see TFM land on my key board. I swat at it, but in my weakened state, miss it.
3) We play this ear to key board game a few more times before I am all worn out and turn out the light.
4) TFM does the ear buzz and bites me a few more time, one time UNDERNEATH MY BLANKET. I swat wildly around like a crank dancer.
5) All worn out I turn on the light to see if I connected. Panting, I look at my ceiling and see TFM just chillin' above my bed.
6) I hit the ceiling with my hand, TFM flies, reappears on my door. I hit the door, TFM disappears, reappears on my ceiling. I grab an Archie Comic and SMACK! It seems like I connect, but there is no dead TFM on the book or ceiling.
7) I pass out from NyQuil.
8) 4:30am, TFM buzzes my ears again. I realize that if I put the blanket over my head I may suffocate, but no more TFM. I do this.
9) I wake up exhausted at 7:30am. I look up to the ceiling and I see TFM.
10) I grab the Archie, slowly creep up and SMACK!!
11) TFM burst on my ceiling spreading MY BLOOD all over. That it had been DRINKING ALL NIGHT!!! What a shit head!!!!

Also, during the previous night as I was tossing and turning with a fever I realized something: Suri Cruise is Katie Holmes' clone. That is why they look so much alike, explains how Tom "had" a kid even though there were rumors he was sterile, and why Katie's pregnancy was so fake looking.

Scientogists are just crazy enough to have figured out cloning and they would use it too. They have a Navy. And they are evil.

I am actually afraid of posting this because they will hunt me down and hurt me (or convert me).

Never the less the truth must be told!!!!

TODAY IN MUSICAL AUTISM:



I have made two (2) mix cds for Justin, my handsome boyfriend. This weekend we listened to both of them while driving around in Northern New York, and I realized that my roladex of music is shockingly small. In fact, I only listen to about 17 bands. In total. They are:

1) Ween
2) The Scissor Sisters
3) Gnarls Barkely
4) Neil Young- Harvest only
5) Nick Cave- 10 songs only
6) The Chef Aid South Park Album
7) Lovage, a rando album Mike Patton put out
8) The Simpsons Album
9) Weird Al Yankovic
10) Los Doggies- a band from New Palz no one knows
11) The Kinks
12) 3 songs by Patti Smith
13) 4 songs by The Talking Heads
14) Musical BBQ- the Space Ghost Album
15) 20 various other songs by various artist from the early 80's New York Scene.
16) Spike Jones
17) Frank Zappa

And that is all.

Literally.

Any other music on my ipod is a mistake. This realization is both shocking and also pathetic. But I am pretending it makes me some kind of a savant. And I am good with that.

TODAY IN REMEMBERING OATMEAL; AND OTHER RAMBLINGS:

I used to have this great way to make oatmeal. It was heated up in the microwave with water, then tossed with soy milk, tossed with toasted walnuts, TOASTED mind you, and then swirled with honey. It really was the best oatmeal combo that ever existed and as far as I'm concerned all other oatmeals can go die.

Sudden realization: "can go die" is a direct quote from a Henry Rollins spoken work album I love called "A Rollins in the Wry", and this whole time I thought it was a phrase I came up with.


So anyway, the trick to the oatmeal is in the toasting of the walnuts. With out a toaster oven you have no hope. Walnuts toasted in a real oven will definitely burn. So I have not had that oatmeal I love since Park Slope, 2005. What a jones.

In other news, my boyfriend says I'm a hipster. (yes, I realize now refer to my boyfriend in every post. thats love, so suck it! Ohhh- "suck it" is a direct quote from a stand-up comic I used to see at open mic nights who did a really hilarious impression of Frank Sinatra!) I say I am not a hipster because I got to bed so early and I have a job. He says I am because:

1) I have bangs.
2) I live in Greenpoint.
3) We once spent a day shopping for a belt buckle for me.

my answers:

1) I have had bangs ever since I was born, but just took a break from them from 2003-2008. Mom, do we have any digital evidence?
2) Greenpoint is the only place worth living, because of the coffee shops, the low rent and the fact that you can see the river.
3) We were in LA at the time and I was not myself.

I told him all this, adding that accusing me of being a hipster in this manner was equivalent to accusing a cow of being a horse because it has four legs, lives in a barn, and eats hay. Justin said I was wrong, and did that giggle thing that he does when he is sure he is right. To which I responded, and I quote:

"What ever dude, I am not a hipster. I am just going to ignore you now and listen to my ipod."

With out any irony mind you.

But seriously, I am not a hipster. As my Dad would say when asked if he was a hippy back in the day, I can't afford the clothes.

Phaea, out!

TODAY IN MY EGO:

I got new head shots done and I am pleased with the result:

It was taken by the amazing Jesse Winter, who you should totally go to for headshots when you are in NYC.

Also- Bryan Lynde did my hair and make-up. Not only is he amazing, but also he's from Boston. (OHHH YAH!) If any one needs his information- let me know! I am frickin' stoked.

TODAY IN NEW SKETCH VIDEOS:

Delusions of Spandex's new amazing video action:



CHECK IT OUT!!

ALSO- Come to Maude Night tonight where you can see me and my sketch group mixtape '98 perform at the Uprights Citizen's Brigade Theatre!!!

TODAY IN THANKS FOR ALL THE FREE SHIT:

Hey McDonald's, thanks for this:

It was a free chicken sandwich, south western style. I had to buy a diet coke along with it, but basically it was free. And really really tasty.

Hey Dunkin' Donut's, thanks for this:

As you can see I drank most of it already, because iced coffee is so good, especially when it is free. I want to thank the dudes on 8th ave who also forgot to charge me for that donut (not pictured), allowing me to jack it. Which makes me feel bad ass.

All in all, thanks for all the free stuff today guys. It was like you knew that I had a late night and needed a pick me up.

Lastly, thank you to my boyfriend for the creation of this:



All for free.

TODAY IN THE PLEASURES OF THE SPRING TIME:

Today was the first day I've had that was filled with iced coffees, which is better then normal coffee in three ways:

1) You get to use a straw.
2) You get to fill the empty cup with water and drink "coffee-water".
3) You get to chew on the ice at the end.

Chewing ice is very bad for you, yes. We all know. BUT there is nothing, and I will repeat, NOTHING more fun then answering your co-workers question about certain PO number with a mouth full of ice. Today I have spurted the following gems:

1) Ogg onnt owe air ahh opooof gniss.
2) I oot hha emaai acck ooom im, i orwars eg a ooo.
3) ell, ooo odden't aass ee weessions een I amm ewing oogn ieys!!! iii oot eeh oon ith a obleem!!!

Thus guaranteeing that no one will ever ask me a single thing any more ever this summer.

Success!!!!!

TODAY IN BOY-REPELLENTS:

I learned today that when discussing possible dog adoptions with your boyfriend never ever suggest this:



Reasons, unknown.

TODAY IN MISUNDERSTANDINGS:














About three years ago I was a cater waiter. I passed hors d'oeuvres and drinks, bussed tables, served plated food, and checked coats for $20 a hour and the opportunity to wear a polyester tuxedo.

Christmas season was the busiest time for us and I found myself on Dec 19th working coat check for the largest party I had ever been a part of. 250 cater waiters and bartenders were in attendance for a group of nearly 1000. The host? MTV. Yes, the MTV.

The gig was hard. The coat checking section was an entire basement room with several cater waiter assembly lines in motion. One of us would take the coat and hand it to the person behind, who would hand the first a ticket and hand the coat back to the third who would hang it on previously selected hanger. To make matters worse, many many people had purses and computer bags, which had to be taped with a matching number and stored about as close to the coat as humanly possible. But we were professionals, and we were making it happen.

The rush of incoming guests began to wane as the party got under way. A few people wandered down to claim their coats early, but for the most part the coat check grew silent.

I kicked around in the back section making fun of expensive coats when I noticed something very bad: a loose pair of keys. At a party of 1000 people a random pair of keys lying on the floor is like dropping your cell phone on subway tracks: really fucking annoying and possibly hopeless unless you get those MTA guys with the long hook grabber thing to help you. Except the MTA hook people = the MTV security guards with walkie talkies who I tossed the keys to and called it a day.

About an hour later my team was on breaks and I stood manning the coat check myself. A drunk middle aged woman approached me. I recognized her as a recent recipient of a coat from my section a few minutes before. A converstation commenced:

Drunk Lady: I can't find my keys.
Me: Oh, you know what? I found them earlier and gave them to a security guard!
Drunk Lady: Oh, I could kiss you!
Me: Oh, don't worry about it.
Drunk Lady: My kids are home alone, I could kiss you!
Me: You are too nice.
Drunk Lady: I'm serious! I could come over there and kiss you!
Me: You really really are too kind.
Drunk Lady: I could really kiss you.
Me: Thank you.

At this point a few more guests had arrived, as well as one of my co-coat checkers, and I went in the back to get coats. When I returned the drunk woman was SCREAMING at my co-worker. Tears of fury were running down her face as she berated my friend for losing her keys and and not returning them to her.

At this moment I realized that I had completely misunderstood the previous conversation. Here is what had really gone on:

Drunk Lady: I can't find my keys.
Me: Oh, you know what? I found them earlier and gave them to a security guard!
Drunk Lady: Oh, I could KILL you!
Me: Oh, don't worry about it.
Drunk Lady: My kids are home alone, I could KILL you!
Me: You are too nice.
Drunk Lady: I'm serious! I could come over there and KILL you!
Me: You really really are too kind.
Drunk Lady: I could really KILL you.
Me: Thank you.

Lesson learned: when people act insane at you, pretend they are saying the opposite. What a fantastic study in the surreal and a useful tool against jerks. Try it today!

(photo by michael mcconnell)

TODAY IN THE CRUELTY OF THE UNIVERSE:
I love ribs. The problem is that I love them so much that I never want to get them because most of the time in restaurants they suck. Nothing beats the ribs I got when I was 20 in Texas and there was an open air BBQ pit in the middle of nowhere. Those ribs were the greatest ribs. And they have ruined ribs for me forever. All other ribs pale in comparison. Except for one ribs. Oh yes, one ribs. And those are by Jonathan Morse, previously mentioned on Phroofie Crede. Thus the tragedy of my life unfolds:

Aug 2007- J. Morse has a BBQ. Phaea comes to said BBQ and eats one (1) bacon wrapped hotdog, which makes her sensitive stomach unhappy. When the ribs are ready, Phaea is unable to eat but a small bite, confirming that they are the best ribs she has had since Texas.

May 3 2008- J. Morse has a BBQ which has a start time of 4pm. Phaea has to be at a show at 7:30pm. Logic dictates that she will not be able to make it to Jersey and back in the proper amount of time to attend. Ribs are missed again.

May 7 2008- J. Morse invited Phaea to Jersey for ribs that he will make especially for her. This generous offer immediately wipes clean not only past rib disappointments, but all disappointments thus far in her entire life, including that time she wore her pants backwards for a month.

May 8 2008- J. Morse informs Phaea that rain is expected tomorrow and there for, ribs are not possible. Existence as it stood before seems like nothing more then a sad slow march towards a rib-less death.

To top it all off, I woke up with a strange sense of foreboding today. It is somewhat gratifying to know that my paranoia, while extreme, is always justified.

Oh hey- and whats with Putin? Am I right?

Sigh.

update: HOLY FUCKING SHIT LOOK WHAT MY BOYFRIEND TOOK A PICTURE OF AT A RESTAURANT TODAY IN UPSTATE NEW YORK!!!!!!!!
Universe!!! What does it all mean!!!???

(for those of you that don't know my name is Phaea Hatfield Crede.)