Archives for the month of: May, 2004


this is just a shameless way to get this photo off flickr and onto my desktop. but ladies, and gents really, can you blame me for falling curly head over strappy heel in love with this smile?and stuart’s the one on the LEFT, for those of you who haven’t figured it out yet.


in this strange place, the herd comes together out of necessity. for the most part, these creatures are usually found travelling alone, or in small intimate groups. the young, of course, stay close to their families for years, but that’s not the demographic of the group we see before us. this is a band of learned migrators, often taking this unpredictable route every day.
see there, where they stand? see how haphazard their choice of momentary repose seems to the untrained eye? this herd has two preys – it watches for two things. then why does it stand in between them, uncertain if one will pass before the other? should the herd not bank a more assured success by making a definitive choice? have they perhaps discussed this plan beforehand? but no. we know this herd has not communicated amongst itself since arriving at this tenuous ground, twenty feet from one destination point, ten feet from the staired cliff descending to another. it waits, suspended, and silent.
but no tribal behavior is without pattern, guidance. six or seven feet down the staired embankment waits one member. that member was not appointed as watchman by any vocalized decree, but merely took its rightful spot. this watchman is not particularly skilled in the task of waiting for the down-slope prey, but rather has the knowledge built in. if, and when, that lower conquest arrives first, the watchman’s perked ears will hear its approach first, and he will start descending. and amazingly, every time, the silent herd will follow, forgoing the chance at the closer possibility of the same-level target.
how odd, then, that they follow this unappointed leader. has this pattern ever led them astray? has the watchman ever been wrong, or simply malicious? no. when he begins his announced journey down the steps of this slope, his fellow travelers follow. no questions.
this time, like all the others before it, our watchman does not prove in jest or error. surely enough, the roaring approach of the herd’s prey rumbles through the tunnels. and we see, like so much behavior observed in the wild subterranean of this island nation, a wary banding-together of its people.
today, the downstairs C train arrives first at the 50th street station. and the savvy band of strangers, day after day hedging their silent bets on an unknown watchman, a tribe poised between two platforms, achieve their goal.

when a massive ear-splitting crack of thunder lightning totally nearly burnt my house and pretty nightgown to a sizzling crisp last night*, and my room was lighting up like vegas every twenty seconds, i did what any self-respecting grown up woman does. i called stuart. did i wake him up 45 minutes early? absolutely. did my heart finally stop racing and was i finally brave enough to poke my head out from under the covers, Piglet that i am? absofuckinglutely.
i mean, cmon, new-yorkers-of-the-astoria-living-variety. THAT WAS SCARY.
*i am so totally exaggerating. obviously. grounding, and all that. pphbtbt.

saturday came in through shiv’s windows in a blaze of winter sun glory. the night before had been unreal in its perfection. drinks at buttermilk with the whole tribe would have been a good enough way to spend my first friday back from brasil, tanned and bubbly. but stuart was there too. and from a twinkling of an idea the night before (christ he’s handsome … and funny … and that look … hrm …), my crush had gone into the major leagues. we stood in the glow of the jukebox, needlessly picking out more music together. we talked about our love lives, sitting close to each other on the couch, legs touching, as i ignored all my friends. and that night, we kissed on shiv’s sofa bed and it was – it was – well. it was perfect, folks. that Perfect Kiss you read about in fairy tales.
i digress. saturday morning found me so nervous he was going to treat those kisses lightly, that i physically removed myself from his tight embrace, spending an hour reading in the window of her kitchen to keep myself from pouncing his sleeping body. when he awoke, and was just as loving as the night before, my heart soared out the open window to play with the wind.
but when we parted ways, at the subway, so that i could go home to astoria and return in two hours for the party, it hurt. i spent the entire ride there and back with a subcontinent of migrating drunk butterflies in my stomach. in my esophagus. in the shaky rapid movements of my hands. i felt a hook in the soft part of my heart, drawing me back to brooklyn, back to the room he was in, but so terrified he wasn’t really holding the line. when his face lit up as i stumbled into shiv’s apartment and he folded me into his arms even though it’d only been two hours … my heart quieted again.

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on thursday, as the Tribe left my apartment, i yelled mom-like down the stairs, “DON’T forget to call kate for her birthday on saturday!” completely confident that i’d remember.
what did i do? forget. what am i? a total asshole. i never forget anyone’s birthday. i remember birthdays for people i’ve met twice. i made my travel plans around the great shivlet’s birthday party. AND I FORGOT TO CALL ONE THIRD OF THE UNHOLY TROIKA, FOUNDING CO-MEMBER OF THE HANDBASKET ALLIANCE. look, i sent her a present. i thought about singing her the Petit Hiboux Birthday Anthem.
but i forgot to call. we talked tonight, of course, when i remembered, but i still feel poopy about it. so, kate…
HIPPO BIRDIE, TWO EWES
HIPPO BIRDIE, TWO EWES
HIPPO BIRDIE, DEER KAAAAAAAAAAAATE,
HIPPO BIRDIE, TWO EWES.
handbasket. shifty penguins. krissa in the sky with diamonds. “what would i do without you?” “sin less.” the miracle of modern science as it pertains to hair dye. slkfjslkfmnsfd. randy. eddie. completely unreadable IM conversations. the “homeless” look. carrying eight tons to brooklyn. Rights for the Non Caring. fucking GREAT holes. the O face. but i am le tired. troika vaults. have a nap. the third rail – and the scraping implements. then fire ze mithiles. roly. poly. SENSITIVE.
and once more: skjfgsdkfjnsdfsdfjkshf*.

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this has been a week of domesticity in the hiboux residence. after last weekend’s cleaning-palooza, i’ve spent most nights tinkering with the rest of the apartment’s more subtle features. a bowl here, the tilt of a pictureframe there, which crockware looks best on that shelf. and a few nights ago, in the midst of shooting another project, i shot some of my favourite things. with a camera, you goofs.

also: i am now incredibly proud that i remembered how to do tably-things without asking.
also pt2: word to the wise – if you’re too lazy to buy over-the-counter headache medicine, and instead you take the naproxen (prescription-strength aleve) that you got after your surgery, and you take it in the morning without eating anything.. you WILL throw it up along with your coffee twenty minutes later.
also pt3: this has been the longest. week. ever. but in less than three weeks, i will be sitting in a charming little house, on a charming little isle known as wight, with the most charming man ever and his charming family and hopefully they won’t think me too much of a bratty new york city slicker. i’m not taking any stilettos with me.
also pt4: i am sorry this is such a random entry. i threw up my coffee – my best brain cells aren’t firing. something more “in depth” and “interesting” will come later. mommy’s tired.

well, the final touches are lining up here at ph – the about and links pages are finally up. on the about page you’ll find a picture of baby hiboux, holding a film box, running crazily towards her mommy. pretty much nothing’s changed except i rarely wear yellow anymore.

by the way, kids, i’m not going to law school next year.
it was such a simple decision, i forgot to blog about it. i’ve been having the hardest time lately consolidating my vision of my future with the future i saw when i decided to go. a year and a half ago, i was disillusioned with journalism but couldn’t see myself doing anything else. i’d given up on Becoming a Writer because it was too uncertain. i was terrified of the vast openness of the future. at twenty two, the playing field was nauseatingly limitless. then i decided i wanted to get a professional degree, Do Something Important And Rewarding with my career. law school! what a great idea!
conveniently, the decision also stopped a leak in my nightmares. i have never been good with wide open spaces, physical or figurative. perhaps that’s why i like new york city. and perhaps it’s why it seemed so natural to progress to a degree that would give me stability, a paycheck, and a certain cachet of prominence. i knew i’d make a good lawyer. i still would. but suddenly, making a good lawyer and having the life i dream about don’t seem like they mesh.
i’m no longer quite so afraid of the open future. what i’m far more terrified of these days is blindly stumbling down a cut-and-dried path to success and happiness. every day, every year, i learn more about myself. i learn more about the world in all its madcap, chaotic glory. to put it simply, i see more colors. and as i get older, i’m less afraid of the open future and more afraid of the narrowed one.
in the past few months, going to law school and tumbling out three years later, up to my peepers in debt, has seemed like a surefire way to lock myself into a greyer, narrower world. that may have been about half of my original intent – to give myself a way to sleep at night without fear of the unknown road ahead.
i’m no longer afraid of that road. and that cut out the middleman to my life – when i realized i don’t need law school to succeed, to be the things i want to be, it suddenly occurred to me – then why go now? and it was that simple, really. sure, i was excited about learning all that stuff. sure, i still love the idea of practicing law. but i’m not ready to commit the rest of my life to the same path yet. i’m not willing to sacrifice what might be to what will be. i’m no longer hiding behind stability. crazy world, bring it on!
and, oddly, i’m now faced with the kind of future i was once terrified of. what will i do? what will i become? where will i be in ten years? but i have enough of these answers already: i will be happy, because i’ve learned how to chase my dreams and hold dear the things that really matter. i will become the woman i know i’m capable of becoming – surrounded by love and friendship and not afraid to try new things. and in ten years, i know i’ll be exactly where i am today… wherever i damn well want to be.
there, i’ve done it. i’ve turned on a dime again. i’ve made the right decision even though it takes me in exactly the opposite direction i told everyone i’d go. and i heartily recommend it.

everyone who sent me a CD should be getting their high voltage mix in the mail right about now. except for mendy. who got hers – broken in half. i know stuart’s got there okay, but i want to make sure that anyone who got one got it intact. please leave comments as you recieve them letting me know, and if it broke for some crazy postal-service related reason, i will drop a new one in the mail, post haste! get it? post? haste? crikey that was a bad joke.
also – many massive apologies to anna, who offered me the outkast CD and i totally forgot to email her confirming the exchange, and then, thanks to having to manually rearrange two posts from yesterday, it seemed like i’d purposefully deleted her comment. i wouldn’t do that – i’m just not smart enough about MT to know how to switch the order of posts without copy/pasting. which, it seems, deletes comments. anna, i am SO sorry!
carry on with your day, people.

help. i have spiders. how do you kill spiders? i’ve had to kill two this week. they’re fucking tiny but they’re still smart little fuckers and i’m seven billion times their size and deathly afraid of them.
AND THEY FUCKING WELL KNOW IT, THE SMARMY ASSHOLES. with their legs and their little webs and their @#%^@$@&$. help.
how do you get rid of spiders? my flip flops are going to need traumatic shock counseling soon.
UPDATE: am standing on chair. am sending mental text to stuart. COME HELP ME WAHHHHHHH. failing that, will jump from chair to bed without smacking head on ceiling. read this once and destroy – the spiders will use my internet in the morning to discover the depths of my fear.
SOS

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