Thanks, New York, it’s been real.
About
Some people call me Kaylee.
Some people call me Kalila.
The only thing I can cook is pasta and prolonged eye contact makes me nervous.
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"‘Were there unicorns in Eden?’ the boy asked.
‘There were,’ the father said, ‘but God had to kill them to punish man.’ The father explained how, as an added penalty, ‘God commanded Adam and Eve to murder the unicorns themselves and so they wandered the Earth, strangling unicorns as they wept.’
‘How horrible,’ the boy said. ‘How could someone kill a unicorn—even if God told you to?’
‘In the beginning, it was rough on them but they got used to it, making small talk as they strangled. In the end it actually brought them closer together and helped their marriage. Don’t worry. God knows what he’s doing.’"
‘There were,’ the father said, ‘but God had to kill them to punish man.’ The father explained how, as an added penalty, ‘God commanded Adam and Eve to murder the unicorns themselves and so they wandered the Earth, strangling unicorns as they wept.’
‘How horrible,’ the boy said. ‘How could someone kill a unicorn—even if God told you to?’
‘In the beginning, it was rough on them but they got used to it, making small talk as they strangled. In the end it actually brought them closer together and helped their marriage. Don’t worry. God knows what he’s doing.’"
— “Inside the Grey Derby” by Jonathan Goldstein
[Flash 10 is required to watch video]
Kaylee teaches you how make a kazoo out of a Twizzler
A weekend of NYC culture: with Kaylee! a.k.a. I try to make it sound like I do cool stuff
Art: This weekend, I went to the Guggenheim, because on Saturday evenings you can pay whatever you want. Then I got there and there was this ridiculous line and I was like, “Wow, people must care about paying whatever they want to see art a lot more than I thought.” But then! I gathered, as I was standing in line, that there was this exhibit everyone wanted to see that was leaving the next day. And what it was! Was an exhibit of this guy Cattelan. He’d never had an exhibition of his stuff before, because he was all, “My stuff should be viewed separately.” But then the Guggenheim was all, “Hey, do an exhibit here.” And Cattelan was like, “Okay, I guess, but we’ve gotta do something crazy.” So they took his entire body of work and hung it by ropes from the ceiling in the rotunda of the Guggenheim. And you could walk around it up seven floors of ramps and depending on where you stood, you could see different stuff. It was pretty much the best. Above is a picture, which I got from here.
Theater: We got rush tickets for this play “Seminar.” It was about creative writing and had Alan Rickman in it, which is a combination of two fantastic things. It made me laugh and we fangirled about being in the same room as Alan Rickman and it also made me think a lot about writing and come home and lie on my bed and wallow in self-doubt. It also made me decide that I want Alan (we are on a first name basis) to narrate my life. Imagine if I was just doing my thing and Alan was there going, “Kaylee has decided to eat a snack.”
Sports: Apparently there was an important Giants game on? Everywhere we went, people were watching it. When we walked around last night, we saw people standing outside smoking, but instead of facing the street like normal, they tried to keep watching the game through restaurant windows.
This has been a weekend of NYC culture: with Kaylee!
Lincoln Center at night
These are some things it is sometimes nice to think about:
1. Sometimes it is nice to think of everyone you know and wonder what each one of them is doing at that exact moment, because even though it’s silly, sometimes you forget that people go on doing things even when you can’t see them, that they experience small details the same way you do.
2. Sometimes it is nice to look at an old coin and think of all the people that held that same coin before it ended up in your hand.
3. Sometimes it is nice to look at people driving in their cars or walking down the street (or at lights in apartment windows, which aren’t people but which correspond to people), and realize that each of them lives some sort of complicated life, even though you don’t know them, and even though there are so many of them.
Riding elevators is so weird. It’s all, “Hey, how about I get into this small metal box with all these strangers and then don’t say anything to them and instead sort of nonchalantly stare at the floor numbers?” If you were asked to get into any other small box with strangers, I would imagine it would be quite alarming, and that you would also probably say something to the people around you, like, “Since we’re in this small box so close to each other, allow me to introduce myself.”
Also, the building that my internship is in actually has no 13th floor. I always thought it was just a myth that there were buildings like that.
Wearing my hat backwards by the dinosaur at the Natural History Museum. Other activities include contemplating where the ducks go in the winter and generally referring to everyone as “phonies.”
I like that on the New York subway, they make that announcement that goes, “If you see a suspicious package, don’t keep it to yourself.” I imagine someone going, “I want this suspicious package just for me. I do not want to share it so I will not say anything to anyone.”
On subway systems and tall buildings: Isn’t it strange to think of how many people are living lives below your feet?
On the way sometimes, when you’re sad and a stranger is nice to you, it makes you want to cry: I read a book recently in which it was hypothesized that this happens because you grow depressed that only a stranger is willing to be kind to you, leading to you feel even more alone. But that’s not the right answer, is it? I don’t think it’s even close.
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