Ah, what a night.
I feel slightly more like my normal self.
Most likely because I have arrived at work exhausted, recovering from an exciting and bizarre New York night.
It is so nice to be reacquainted.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The night began with a burrito, followed by a bonus movie class. Before the class, the professor said "Are any of you journalists?" and told us not to write about what happened.
Now.
Does a blog count? It is published writing, so I feel like I shouldn't write about it.
This being said, I think its acceptable to write about things very vaguely and then in the summer, when this movie is released, I can reveal all!
Basically, we got to screen a rough cut of a film from a very famous director, who is old and adorable and who wanted to screen the film to an audience of film-goers and film-lovers, not critics. He wanted to see how the film played, if laughs came in the right places, if the audience responded as intended, if we understood what was going on.
The movie itself was amazing. It far exceeded my expectations, not because I didn't have faith in the director but because I, like everyone there, lacked faith in his main casting choice. It ended up being a non-issue. The movie was charming and riveting and enjoyable. I will recommend it to you when its actually out.
Hearing a director talk about his movie mid-process was an interesting experience. I kept wondering if he felt at all insecure, what he must have been feeling while we watched the movie, how disappointing it must be for people to watch bad movies they've made.
I like feeling like I am protecting secret information.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After class I went to meet my friend DD at a bar called 12'' in the East Village. As soon as I walked in there, I recognized someone.
Those of you who know me might remember how I stumbled upon a stalker's dream on Friendster last year, when I found a link to a website/blog kept by a Dude I went to middle school with. This website is a photoblog chronicling the past few years, during which this Dude documented a variety of activities involving people I went to high school with.
If you know me, you also know that I suffer from a serious disconnect from high school. Prior to encountering this website, it felt like fiction to me. Almost as though it never happened, since it had no impact on the person I became. Seeing these people - seeing that they are still together and that they still have something - was a huge mind fuck for me. I went nuts and wrote songs and thought things like "Why did I disconnect? Do I want this? Do I want a reliable entourage? Do I want a posse comprised of people I can count on? Why don't I have a group? Why don't I care about these sorts of things? Why does my past make me so uncomfortable?"
In a way I was jealous of them. I was jealous of their having something old and comfortable and a given. I was jealous that they've found new lives but still preserve the old. I was jealous of their adventures. And, most importantly, I was jealous of this Dude's blog. But not super jealous, because he does techy things for a living.
Anyway, long story longer, I walked into this bar last night and saw this Dude's brother. Not that I ever met his brother in real life. No, folks, I recognized him from the photos on the blog.
I also know, from the blog, that these two travel as a pair, so I knew it wasn't long before Dude appeared.
I should also say that I am not surprised by any of this, since I knew that Dude hosts parties in the East Village often. I guess I knew it was only a matter of time.
Meanwhile, I pounded my Mad Dog cosmopolitan while I hung out with DD and D, who was having vertigo and also making no sense because he can't hear well, and the music was loud, and he rarely goes out to bars because he can't have conversations with people because he can't hear them, but tries so hard to be part of things.
Soon Dude appeared and I acted very surprised! and what are you doing here! and wow this is weird!!! I basically pretended like I had no idea what he was doing in NYC, and asked things like "Where do you live?" even though I know his apartment is a few blocks away and know what it looks like because there are pictures of it on his website and "What do you do?" even though I know he owns his own company and I know what it does and I know he's teaching courses at NYU.
Awkward. He shook D's hand and acted friendly. We didn't talk for long, because he knew everyone there and because I was having an existential crisis.
I eventually ended up sitting along the wall with D, who I tried to make feel secure - why does alcohol make people so insecure? - and DD, who I danced with while seated, and DD's friend, who looked just like Tommy Lee (!) and who was DJ-ing a bit that night.
It felt good to be out. To talk to people. To have conversations. I took Dude's card and emailed him today, asking to be put on the mailing list for his functions. Maybe I'll actually make some friends.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
At around 12:15 we headed over to Rothko, where we saw Diplo spin. That was the whole point of the evening. The drinking and existential crises delayed our getting there, so we only stayed for about an hour or so.
It was awesome. Again, it felt good to be out and to be dancing! It's been too long.
He's quite good. Lots of reggae and hip hop and Ah-Ha.
Only downside was that it was smokey, and I smell smoke-y today because I stayed at D's and am wearing the same black hoodey and jeans I wore last night. Gross, I know, but D lives a 4 minute walk from work and obviously I wasn't going to go back to Brooklyn after the show when I could take a 3-minute-cab to his apartment and get an extra hour of sleep the following morning.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I am exhausted, but in a lovely and familiar way.
The way in which you know fun was had and the exhaustion is worth it.
I can recover tonight while I wait for PW to arrive from Boston! And whilst waiting for PW, I am going to do fun Friday-night activities such as laundry! and taxes! and sorting through mail from the past week since I haven't been home since Monday! and doing dishes! and buying food! and settling up the bill with Roommate!
It's all good, because the next two weeks are going to be non-stop.
And then I go to Orlando to "meet the family."
And then, around May, I can get some sleep.
Friday, March 11, 2005
Thursday, March 10, 2005
Comedy
I went to see Bench Buddy do a standup comedy open mic last night.
I was expecting for people to be not-very-funny, but, like the open mic I did, everyone was really good.
Well, not everyone, but I'd say 75% of the people were really funny.
It was a pleasant surprise.
I actually enjoyed myself. I thought it was going to be like attending a kid's 5th grade band concert, writhing in agony while convinced that your kid is absolutely brilliant.
I suppose its not surprising that there are actually good standup comics lurking about in obscurity in NYC.
Bench Buddy was funny. It was interesting to see him on stage. The beauty of his everyday humor is that it's subtle, observational, and understated. He's mellow and low key. His comedian persona, however, was enthusiastic and happy and spastic and wow!!!
A good portion of the comedians had routines that revolved around their weight, having lost insane amounts of weight, needing to lose weight, etc.
It just seemed like an unusually high percentage of people who had lost weight. I'm talking 100's and 100's of pounds. The comedians who weren't going to talk about weight ended up talking about it anyway, because everyone else was and that's funny.
Then I wondered - is there a correlation between weight and humor?
Did I overcompensate for my childhood scrawniness and comprehensive lack of athletic ability by studying too much?
Is there a similar trait that causes someone to become the class clown?
Hmmmm.
Regardless, fun was had. He's going to do it again in a couple of weeks.
Additionally, D, inspired by Bench Buddy's performance, has decided to become a standup comedian. He has taken to carrying around a little black spiral-bound notebook labeled "JOKES" with yellow lab tape. Every five seconds he pulls it out and scribbles something frantically, and then starts laughing.
I had to say "You know, when you get up there, it's probably not awesome to like laugh hysterically at your own jokes."
He's trying to figure out his persona, his vibe.
I am excited for him. I love being around people who are inspired. He's punchy and lively and thrilled with life right now. He's obsessed and driven. I am jealous. I can't wait for the Bench Buddy / D double bill in two weeks.
And, I love New York and that the people here are wicked funny.
I was expecting for people to be not-very-funny, but, like the open mic I did, everyone was really good.
Well, not everyone, but I'd say 75% of the people were really funny.
It was a pleasant surprise.
I actually enjoyed myself. I thought it was going to be like attending a kid's 5th grade band concert, writhing in agony while convinced that your kid is absolutely brilliant.
I suppose its not surprising that there are actually good standup comics lurking about in obscurity in NYC.
Bench Buddy was funny. It was interesting to see him on stage. The beauty of his everyday humor is that it's subtle, observational, and understated. He's mellow and low key. His comedian persona, however, was enthusiastic and happy and spastic and wow!!!
A good portion of the comedians had routines that revolved around their weight, having lost insane amounts of weight, needing to lose weight, etc.
It just seemed like an unusually high percentage of people who had lost weight. I'm talking 100's and 100's of pounds. The comedians who weren't going to talk about weight ended up talking about it anyway, because everyone else was and that's funny.
Then I wondered - is there a correlation between weight and humor?
Did I overcompensate for my childhood scrawniness and comprehensive lack of athletic ability by studying too much?
Is there a similar trait that causes someone to become the class clown?
Hmmmm.
Regardless, fun was had. He's going to do it again in a couple of weeks.
Additionally, D, inspired by Bench Buddy's performance, has decided to become a standup comedian. He has taken to carrying around a little black spiral-bound notebook labeled "JOKES" with yellow lab tape. Every five seconds he pulls it out and scribbles something frantically, and then starts laughing.
I had to say "You know, when you get up there, it's probably not awesome to like laugh hysterically at your own jokes."
He's trying to figure out his persona, his vibe.
I am excited for him. I love being around people who are inspired. He's punchy and lively and thrilled with life right now. He's obsessed and driven. I am jealous. I can't wait for the Bench Buddy / D double bill in two weeks.
And, I love New York and that the people here are wicked funny.
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
Last night....
... I had this dream, in which I was walking to class in the snow. It was snowing so hard. The city was a sheet of ice. Per usual, I was dressed inappropriately and wearing chucks in the dead of winter. I kept slipping around. The wind was fierce. People were being blown over, dropping to my left and right. At one point the wind was so fierce that it actually dragged me across the ice and almost into the road. I held onto a traffic light for dear life for a few moments while the wind gusted.
I finally arrived at the class, which was being held at this giant theater with red velvet curtains and balconies. Very fancy. I waited in a long line populated by various society folk wearing fur coats and finally found my way to a seat. I looked across the aisle, and realized I was sitting across from Michael Imperioli from The Sopranos. He looked just like he looks on TV and in the movies. I kept having thoughts like "I should say something to him, and then we can be friends, and then someday our kids can play together and they can share Italian American traditions. How lovely would that be!"
While trying not to stare, I realized that he was seated next to Warren Beatty. No - wait - it wasn't Warren Beatty, but he looked a lot like Warren Beatty. I kept thinking "I somehow know this man who is not Warren Beatty, but who is he?"
It finally occurred to me that it was John Shea, the actor who played Lex Luther on the early 90's TV sensation Lois and Clark, which is one of my favorite shows of all time. Comics and Teri Hatcher - does life get any better? I kept having thoughts like "I should say something to him, and tell him how much I loved Lois and Clark and how I loved the complexity he brought to Lex Luther." Instead I said nothing and tried not to stare, and waited patiently for class to begin.
Class began pompously. The professor said that he'd had dinner with Dr. Ruth earlier in the week, and that she'd told him to "warm up the crowd" by telling a joke. He told Dr. Ruth's joke, which was actually quite funny, and then gave a brief history of "the movies," which included various anecdotes about Edison and nickelodeons and Hollywoodland.
We watched a movie, and at the end, the professor reappeared and said "Well, I have to say, I think Dr. Ruth's joke really set the tone for the evening and for the entire class, and we should thank her!"
Dr. Ruth then appeared from behind the red velvet curtains, carrying a dozen red roses. All 4 feet and 8 inches of her looked adorable in her hot pink suit.
She said, in her unmistakable Dr. Ruth accent, "I haff to commend you all - for coming outtt in the vind and snow on suchh an awfful nightt - I promisss you that you will all haf GREAT SEX for the rest of your lives!"
I then went back out into the snow, where my Spidey Sense started tingling. A man approached me on the street and said "Hi!" and I said "Hello," and kept walking. He stopped and said "Come on, baby, can't I come home with you to warm you up?" I kept walking, not looking back, but I could tell that he was following me. He eventually gave up and turned around, which was good, because I didn't want the dream to end in violence.
Then I woke up.
Not really.
Then I got to D's and said "What a freaking weird night."
Weird night, eh? Ah, New York.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Incidentally, the movie we saw was called "In My Country" and starred Juliette Binoche and Samuel L. Jackson in a story that follows two journalists as they experience the post-apartheid Reconciliation, a series of trials in which those who committed atrocities confronted their victims and were then granted amnesty.
Conceptually interesting - I didn't even know that these trials happened.
Instead of actually being interesting, though, it resorted to awful cliches and romance and didn't have the depth that a story that takes place during this time should have.
Additionally, I had a really hard time with some of the South African accents. Some of them were good, but I couldn't understand some of the people. They didn't sound South African. Juliette Binoche's accent sounded like a combination of Scottish and Russian.
Please do not see it.
Thank you.
I finally arrived at the class, which was being held at this giant theater with red velvet curtains and balconies. Very fancy. I waited in a long line populated by various society folk wearing fur coats and finally found my way to a seat. I looked across the aisle, and realized I was sitting across from Michael Imperioli from The Sopranos. He looked just like he looks on TV and in the movies. I kept having thoughts like "I should say something to him, and then we can be friends, and then someday our kids can play together and they can share Italian American traditions. How lovely would that be!"
While trying not to stare, I realized that he was seated next to Warren Beatty. No - wait - it wasn't Warren Beatty, but he looked a lot like Warren Beatty. I kept thinking "I somehow know this man who is not Warren Beatty, but who is he?"
It finally occurred to me that it was John Shea, the actor who played Lex Luther on the early 90's TV sensation Lois and Clark, which is one of my favorite shows of all time. Comics and Teri Hatcher - does life get any better? I kept having thoughts like "I should say something to him, and tell him how much I loved Lois and Clark and how I loved the complexity he brought to Lex Luther." Instead I said nothing and tried not to stare, and waited patiently for class to begin.
Class began pompously. The professor said that he'd had dinner with Dr. Ruth earlier in the week, and that she'd told him to "warm up the crowd" by telling a joke. He told Dr. Ruth's joke, which was actually quite funny, and then gave a brief history of "the movies," which included various anecdotes about Edison and nickelodeons and Hollywoodland.
We watched a movie, and at the end, the professor reappeared and said "Well, I have to say, I think Dr. Ruth's joke really set the tone for the evening and for the entire class, and we should thank her!"
Dr. Ruth then appeared from behind the red velvet curtains, carrying a dozen red roses. All 4 feet and 8 inches of her looked adorable in her hot pink suit.
She said, in her unmistakable Dr. Ruth accent, "I haff to commend you all - for coming outtt in the vind and snow on suchh an awfful nightt - I promisss you that you will all haf GREAT SEX for the rest of your lives!"
I then went back out into the snow, where my Spidey Sense started tingling. A man approached me on the street and said "Hi!" and I said "Hello," and kept walking. He stopped and said "Come on, baby, can't I come home with you to warm you up?" I kept walking, not looking back, but I could tell that he was following me. He eventually gave up and turned around, which was good, because I didn't want the dream to end in violence.
Then I woke up.
Not really.
Then I got to D's and said "What a freaking weird night."
Weird night, eh? Ah, New York.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Incidentally, the movie we saw was called "In My Country" and starred Juliette Binoche and Samuel L. Jackson in a story that follows two journalists as they experience the post-apartheid Reconciliation, a series of trials in which those who committed atrocities confronted their victims and were then granted amnesty.
Conceptually interesting - I didn't even know that these trials happened.
Instead of actually being interesting, though, it resorted to awful cliches and romance and didn't have the depth that a story that takes place during this time should have.
Additionally, I had a really hard time with some of the South African accents. Some of them were good, but I couldn't understand some of the people. They didn't sound South African. Juliette Binoche's accent sounded like a combination of Scottish and Russian.
Please do not see it.
Thank you.
A Very Bagel Special
Hello all.
I am swamped at work and haven't had time yet to tell you about my fabulous weekend with M and A, who visited yet again from Worcester! They are such great friends, and always bring thoughtful little gifts. This time they brought me hot fudge from Friendly's, which is one of my favorite things on the planet and hard to come by in NYC.
M, who did have time to write about our fabulous weekend, has allowed me to utilize her as a guest writer for the second time.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The other NYC story
On Sunday, we had big plans. We were going to have brunch, go see the new, free art installation, go to B&H Photo Video, and go to SoHo to buy the lamp that The Husband and I found last December but thought was too expensive. Little did we know that lamps are really expensive, and usually boring. The brunch part was wonderful, but the plans began to go a bit sour on the way to the art exhibit. For although it was only 54 or so degrees outside, the wind made it feel like 20 or something. Plus, I was wearing tall boots because I had on brown pants that require heels. (The Doktah advised against getting them hemmed; she said I should just wear heels. Curse her.) These boots are actually pretty comfy as heels go due to the chunkiness of the heel, but it turns out that I should not wear them two days in a row if I'm doing a lot of walking, because chunky or no, heels are heels.
So we schlepped over to the art installation on very painful ankles (well, I was the only one with painful ankles), and it turns out the art installation was not free. We paid anyway, if only to get out of the cold, because the damn thing was right on the water and the wind was making me miserable. I was not dressed for the weather at all. But it is a temporary structure, so it wasn't much warmer inside. The exhibit consisted of a long hallway of painting after painting of Tibetan people with elephants, birds, or leopards. Each painting was individually quite beautiful, but after a hundred pictures of people with closed eyes posing with elephants, it begins to get repetitive. Plus the fact that every single person had their eyes closed really started to get on my nerves. It's like they were saying, "Oh, look at me, I'm so spiritual and communing with this elephant. Don't you wish you were as deep as I am? Look, I'll meditate right now. Meditating is like second nature to me. Ohhmmm....." At the end of the hallway was a looped film of the same images. The artists had obviously made the film, and then used it as the model for the paintings, so it was even more repetitive. And the film was run in slow motion, to really drive home the deep spirituality of the subjects, which did not add to my enjoyment. And did I mention that it was cold in there? And that it wasn't free?
OK. So we ended up having to skip B&H because things just took too long, and wound up in SoHo where, luckily, the lamp was still for sale, and for $10 less than in December! So we bought it, and asked for one in a box because we had to drive back to Massachusetts with it. It came in a really tall box, and when we hailed a cab to go back to Brooklyn, we discovered it would not fit. Since the L train to Brooklyn was not running, we were forced to walk ten minutes more in the freezing cold on sore ankles, carrying a very cumbersome tall box, and catch the J train over the bridge and then wait and wait for the shuttle, which turned out not to be a "shuttle" so much as a bus because it stopped a lot.
The only thing motivating us was the thought of the awesome bagels we were going to buy from the best bagel store ever, 4 blocks up from Leah Lar's apartment, and then the thought of eating said bagels in the lovely, lovely warmth of the apartment. And also the bathroom.
So The Husband and D headed back to the apartment to get our stuff all packed up, and Leah Lar and I ordered the bagels. I ordered 1 toasted pumpernickel bagel with garlic and herb cream cheese, and 1 toasted sesame bagel with the same cream cheese. Leah Lar ordered 1 toasted everything bagel with plain cream cheese and 1 toasted wheat bagel with garlic and herb cream cheese. I ordered first, and several minutes later the guy who took my order said, "You wanted 1 pumpernickel and 1 sesame, right?" Right. "You wanted them toasted, right?" Right. "You wanted garlic and herb cream cheese, right?" Right.
So when we got back to the apartment, we found the following 4 bagels: 1 toasted everything with plain cream cheese, 1 untoasted wheat with plain cream cheese, and 2 untoasted sesame bagels with olive and red pepper cream cheese. I'll give you a second to go back and check what we ordered.
So D was golden, because they got his right. And Leah Lar was disappointed at the lack of toasting on her wheat bagel, but her order-taker had told her there was no more garlic and herb cream cheese, so she was prepared for that. But as for me and The Husband, I guess my guy was just toying with me with all the double checking.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Incidentally, I would like to point out that as we were leaving the bagel shop, I said to M "I have a very bad feeling about our order." I just had a bad feeling. And I was right, dammit! I am mad, but not mad enough to never order bagels there again, because they are fabulous bagels when prepared correctly.
I'd also like to add that the structure that housed the exhibit is a nomadic museum constructed mostly out of recyclable and reuseable material. Very impressive and regal.
Here is information about the architect:
http://www.time.com/time/innovators/design/profile_ban.html
I didn't like the exhibit. One photo, fine. 100? Not fine. It was a redundant collection and really distracted from the museum.
Here is the link to the exhibit:
http://ashesandsnow.org/home.html
The fact that it was freezing didn't help. Perhaps I'd have enjoyed it more had the weather been better.
This is M's account of Sunday. On Saturday night, we saw a play called After Ashley that features Kieran Culkin (who I thought was amazing; M and A didn't think so and M was bothered by his hair), Anna Paquin (who we all agreed was unbearably bad and was trying real hard to act) and the guy who played Miles on Murphy Brown. I really liked the play, although I felt that it only scraped the surface of the themes it tried to explore.
http://www.vineyardtheatre.org/AfterAshley.html
M told me this weekend how to make these links clickable, but I've already forgotten. Sorry, readers, for making you primitively copy and paste these links.
After the play we went for drinks at Antique Lounge, which is lovely because it is three blocks from my apartment and because they give you animal themed snacks, such as Goldfish and Animal Crackers, in martini glasses.
We were going to have ice cream with Friendly's hot fudge afterwards, but because we are old, we went to bed instead.
Stay tuned for the futher adventures of M and A in NYC!
I am swamped at work and haven't had time yet to tell you about my fabulous weekend with M and A, who visited yet again from Worcester! They are such great friends, and always bring thoughtful little gifts. This time they brought me hot fudge from Friendly's, which is one of my favorite things on the planet and hard to come by in NYC.
M, who did have time to write about our fabulous weekend, has allowed me to utilize her as a guest writer for the second time.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The other NYC story
On Sunday, we had big plans. We were going to have brunch, go see the new, free art installation, go to B&H Photo Video, and go to SoHo to buy the lamp that The Husband and I found last December but thought was too expensive. Little did we know that lamps are really expensive, and usually boring. The brunch part was wonderful, but the plans began to go a bit sour on the way to the art exhibit. For although it was only 54 or so degrees outside, the wind made it feel like 20 or something. Plus, I was wearing tall boots because I had on brown pants that require heels. (The Doktah advised against getting them hemmed; she said I should just wear heels. Curse her.) These boots are actually pretty comfy as heels go due to the chunkiness of the heel, but it turns out that I should not wear them two days in a row if I'm doing a lot of walking, because chunky or no, heels are heels.
So we schlepped over to the art installation on very painful ankles (well, I was the only one with painful ankles), and it turns out the art installation was not free. We paid anyway, if only to get out of the cold, because the damn thing was right on the water and the wind was making me miserable. I was not dressed for the weather at all. But it is a temporary structure, so it wasn't much warmer inside. The exhibit consisted of a long hallway of painting after painting of Tibetan people with elephants, birds, or leopards. Each painting was individually quite beautiful, but after a hundred pictures of people with closed eyes posing with elephants, it begins to get repetitive. Plus the fact that every single person had their eyes closed really started to get on my nerves. It's like they were saying, "Oh, look at me, I'm so spiritual and communing with this elephant. Don't you wish you were as deep as I am? Look, I'll meditate right now. Meditating is like second nature to me. Ohhmmm....." At the end of the hallway was a looped film of the same images. The artists had obviously made the film, and then used it as the model for the paintings, so it was even more repetitive. And the film was run in slow motion, to really drive home the deep spirituality of the subjects, which did not add to my enjoyment. And did I mention that it was cold in there? And that it wasn't free?
OK. So we ended up having to skip B&H because things just took too long, and wound up in SoHo where, luckily, the lamp was still for sale, and for $10 less than in December! So we bought it, and asked for one in a box because we had to drive back to Massachusetts with it. It came in a really tall box, and when we hailed a cab to go back to Brooklyn, we discovered it would not fit. Since the L train to Brooklyn was not running, we were forced to walk ten minutes more in the freezing cold on sore ankles, carrying a very cumbersome tall box, and catch the J train over the bridge and then wait and wait for the shuttle, which turned out not to be a "shuttle" so much as a bus because it stopped a lot.
The only thing motivating us was the thought of the awesome bagels we were going to buy from the best bagel store ever, 4 blocks up from Leah Lar's apartment, and then the thought of eating said bagels in the lovely, lovely warmth of the apartment. And also the bathroom.
So The Husband and D headed back to the apartment to get our stuff all packed up, and Leah Lar and I ordered the bagels. I ordered 1 toasted pumpernickel bagel with garlic and herb cream cheese, and 1 toasted sesame bagel with the same cream cheese. Leah Lar ordered 1 toasted everything bagel with plain cream cheese and 1 toasted wheat bagel with garlic and herb cream cheese. I ordered first, and several minutes later the guy who took my order said, "You wanted 1 pumpernickel and 1 sesame, right?" Right. "You wanted them toasted, right?" Right. "You wanted garlic and herb cream cheese, right?" Right.
So when we got back to the apartment, we found the following 4 bagels: 1 toasted everything with plain cream cheese, 1 untoasted wheat with plain cream cheese, and 2 untoasted sesame bagels with olive and red pepper cream cheese. I'll give you a second to go back and check what we ordered.
So D was golden, because they got his right. And Leah Lar was disappointed at the lack of toasting on her wheat bagel, but her order-taker had told her there was no more garlic and herb cream cheese, so she was prepared for that. But as for me and The Husband, I guess my guy was just toying with me with all the double checking.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Incidentally, I would like to point out that as we were leaving the bagel shop, I said to M "I have a very bad feeling about our order." I just had a bad feeling. And I was right, dammit! I am mad, but not mad enough to never order bagels there again, because they are fabulous bagels when prepared correctly.
I'd also like to add that the structure that housed the exhibit is a nomadic museum constructed mostly out of recyclable and reuseable material. Very impressive and regal.
Here is information about the architect:
http://www.time.com/time/innovators/design/profile_ban.html
I didn't like the exhibit. One photo, fine. 100? Not fine. It was a redundant collection and really distracted from the museum.
Here is the link to the exhibit:
http://ashesandsnow.org/home.html
The fact that it was freezing didn't help. Perhaps I'd have enjoyed it more had the weather been better.
This is M's account of Sunday. On Saturday night, we saw a play called After Ashley that features Kieran Culkin (who I thought was amazing; M and A didn't think so and M was bothered by his hair), Anna Paquin (who we all agreed was unbearably bad and was trying real hard to act) and the guy who played Miles on Murphy Brown. I really liked the play, although I felt that it only scraped the surface of the themes it tried to explore.
http://www.vineyardtheatre.org/AfterAshley.html
M told me this weekend how to make these links clickable, but I've already forgotten. Sorry, readers, for making you primitively copy and paste these links.
After the play we went for drinks at Antique Lounge, which is lovely because it is three blocks from my apartment and because they give you animal themed snacks, such as Goldfish and Animal Crackers, in martini glasses.
We were going to have ice cream with Friendly's hot fudge afterwards, but because we are old, we went to bed instead.
Stay tuned for the futher adventures of M and A in NYC!
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Eminem
Bench Buddy is doing a standup comedy open mic tomorrow night and I am giddy. I am hoping to catch him, as I have Expensive Haircut #2 tomorrow night that will rectify the abomination that is Expensive Haircut #1.
We were just talking about it, and he said "Hey, did you ever find out about the open mic at Cafe Vivaldi?" to which I responded "No, well, I'm just not ready yet. Maybe someday soon, but not yet."
He said "I'll have to, like, secretly look into it..."
Then he got really excited and said "You'll be just like Eminem in '8 Mile!' I'll go and secretly sign you up for the battle and you'll be thrown into the fire and then you'll kick ass..." Then he started performing excerpts from the battles.
I said "Yes, Bench Buddy, I am just like Eminem."
I never thought I'd ever be compared to Eminem. In some weird way, it actually did motivate me. Someone said that "8 Mile" is the "Karate Kid" of the new millennium, and they were right.
And Bench Buddy is my own personal Mr. Miyagi.
Yes, I am inspired.
We were just talking about it, and he said "Hey, did you ever find out about the open mic at Cafe Vivaldi?" to which I responded "No, well, I'm just not ready yet. Maybe someday soon, but not yet."
He said "I'll have to, like, secretly look into it..."
Then he got really excited and said "You'll be just like Eminem in '8 Mile!' I'll go and secretly sign you up for the battle and you'll be thrown into the fire and then you'll kick ass..." Then he started performing excerpts from the battles.
I said "Yes, Bench Buddy, I am just like Eminem."
I never thought I'd ever be compared to Eminem. In some weird way, it actually did motivate me. Someone said that "8 Mile" is the "Karate Kid" of the new millennium, and they were right.
And Bench Buddy is my own personal Mr. Miyagi.
Yes, I am inspired.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
