I wanted to go to the movies last night.
There's a documentary on William Eggelston playing at the theater around the corner. It opened last night, and the director was going to be there for discussion after the first two showings. I went to the theater the night before to buy tickets because purchasing them online cost at extra $1 per ticket which seemed assinine given I could save $2 by walking for one minute, and was told that the 6:20 showing was already sold out but that there were still tickets to the 8:20 available. I said "Can I buy them now?" to which they responded with "Day of show only."
D was sick that night, so we talked briefly about the possibility of going. He said "Well, I think I'll probably feel better tomorrow so I'll probably want to ride. But maybe not."
Cool.
I emailed him yesterday morning and said "Are you going to ride? Should I get you a ticket?" I checked online to verify that the 8:20 hadn't sold out, and it had not.
I hadn't heard from him by 1:30. I checked again to make sure there were still tickets. There were. As I walked by the theater at lunch, I thought "I should just get two tickets. Worst case scenario I have an extra ticket and I can sell it because there will probably be people standing by."
I didn't get the tickets. I don't know why. I think it's the nerdiness I feel about planning ahead, being cautious, worrying about such things.
At 3:00 he wrote back and said he'd like to go. I went online and, of course, sold out.
Fuck.
No director present when I will see this movie, if I see this movie because its playing for a little over a week and I have plans most nights.
I decided that, instead, I'd go to see The Baxter. Originally I'd intended to see both The Baxter and the Eggleston documentary. I'd mentioned to D that I might see The Baxter and just meet him at the Eggleston documentary when I'd thought there were tickets.
There was more "Maybe I'll ride" or "Maybe I'll paint" or "Maybe I'll go for a run" or "Maybe we will go on a date!"
At around 4:30 I realized that I'd finished my work for the day, so I totally had time to see The Baxter. I called D to see if he wanted to join me and if he didn't, if he wanted to do something after his ride/run/painting.
He said "Are you done? Why don't we go see Century of the Self at 5:45 instead?"
"YES! BRILLIANT!" I said, because I've been wanting to see Century of the Self for a really long time and its been oh-so-challenging. It's a four-part documentary on Freud. Parts 1 and 2 show at 5:25 and 10:05, whereas parts 3 and 4 show at 7:45, which is manageable. But - you can't see 3 and 4 without having seen 1 and 2, but seeing 1 and 2 is nearly impossible.
I was psyched, because this was like the first time ever I'd gotten out of work in enough time to see it! YAY!
We left work at about 5:15 and started walking to the theater. D was like "Do you mind if I stop home and freshen up?" He changed and meandered and ate some chewy Chips Ahoy while I watched people walking by, hoping that they'd steal the company-logo-bag I'd left on the street. Fascinating. As we walked to the theater, I began to panic because it was 5:45 and we still had about another 5 minutes' walk remaining.
We got to the window and I was like "Motherfuckerfuckitwasatfucking5:25!!!"
Now. I knew this. I knew it was earlier than 5:45, because 5:45 seems manageable. I can, in theory, get out of work by 5:00. Going to a 5:25 movie requires getting
out before 5:00, which is difficult.
I was like "I can't believe I didn't see the Eggleston documentary OR The Baxter OR Century of the Self."
D is not to blame. Not at all. I can only blame myself for not sticking to my original plan, which was to see both the Eggleston documentary and The Baxter by myself. By involving someone else, I effectively didn't get to do any of the things I wanted to do. I also knew the movie was at 5:25. I knew it, because I am anal and know things like that. But I doubted myself, and I shouldn't have.
D was like "Let's see something else!" and suggested just walking around the city to various theaters to see what was playing. It was 100 degrees last night and I didn't want to walk around anymore and I had raging PMS and didn't want to not see any other movies I really wanted to see. I was like "Can't we just call? Please!?!?" I finally convinced him to look in the paper.
He said "Let's see Pretty Persuasion!" This is last on my list (top of his), but it was on the list so I was like "Cool, yeah!"
We saw the movie.
My review:
Pretty Persuasion = Least Subtle Movie of All Time
D said "I feel dirty."
"Me too!" I said, but apparently we said this for different reasons.
I have this history of viscerally loathing movies that other people love. I hate them so very much and it is therefore completely out of the realm of possibility that other people could like them. It's not possible. It is obvious that the movie is bad and there is no way anyone could ever find something redeeming about it.
This is how I felt about 25th Hour. After the movie, PD was like "What did you think?" and I was like "I think it goes without saying." "Yeah." "Like I had no idea a movie could be that bad." "What? Oh. Um. I really liked it."
Awkward.
This was how it went last night as well. D said "Do you want to find someone with a ticket stub?" (Long story - I save ticket stubs for movies for some yet-to-be-determined movie-ticket-stub future project; I don't like going to the Sunshine because D insists on buying tickets from the machine which gives receipts instead of tickets and also charges you like 4 times for one transaction).
I said "No way, man, I just want to forget that this ever happened."
"Me too."
"Man. I think that could be on the list of the top 10 worst films I've ever seen!"
"What? You didn't like it?"
Awkward.
He tried to convince me that it had some redeeming qualities but the only good thing about it was a certain scene with Ron Livingston.
I can't be convinced to like something that I hated. With 25th Hour, I didn't completely hate it. When PD, MS and I talked about it, I came around a bit and didn't hate it as much by the time we'd finished talking.
But man. Pretty Persuasion. I felt a little bad because I was nothing but raging negativity and D really liked it, so we just stopped talking about it.
I won't write a review of it because I might be wrong about this one. Hard to tell. You should just see it for yourself if you have any interest because there must be good things that I, for whatever reason, cannot see.
I think it's because I've seen it all before, but better.
OK. Must work a bit. More later.
Thursday, September 01, 2005
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Life Out of Balance - Part 2
There was a lot to digest last night. A weird night. Weird. Am feeling a bit old, a bit ineffective, a bit insecure, a bit mortal. I'll write more on this later. Nevertheless...
In my attempt to blaze through Netflixes prior to leaving for Orlando, I decided to watch The Sea Inside. Not the best movie to watch when one is feeling bizarre, but man. Javier Bardem. I completely forgot that he wasn't a 60-year-old quadripalegic, which is pretty hard given that he's one of the most beautiful people to have ever graced the planet. Good movie.
The plan was to then go to D's to watch Koyaanisqatsi, which we decided would be really really amazing or trite. My vote leaned towards pretentious, but I said I'd give it a chance.
First of all, the opening song. OK. Do I like Philip Glass? I can't decide. It depends on my mood. I can't get the goddamn song out of my head. Male voices chanting Koyaanisqatsi really lowly, really slowly, really monotonously. I can't get them to stop!!! It's infuriating.
Second of all, it is possible that I've seen it before! This boy I knew shortly after graduating college, who I did not kiss although I really wanted to, took me to see a Philip Glass scored film at the Wang Center. I was dragged, but I'd have done anything to spend time with him. All I remembered was the Philip Glass music and people moving around really frenetically in a city. Weird.
Third of all, the reason that I didn't remember having seen it was because I had terrible violent food poisoning during my viewing it! Crazy! I kept saying "I think I have seen this but its so foggy because I had food poisoning... I was so delirious... and I kept having to run out... and this might actually be why I hold slight animosity towards Philip Glass for no reason at all!"
Therefore, Koyaanisqatsi is to blame for D's food poisoning.
In my attempt to blaze through Netflixes prior to leaving for Orlando, I decided to watch The Sea Inside. Not the best movie to watch when one is feeling bizarre, but man. Javier Bardem. I completely forgot that he wasn't a 60-year-old quadripalegic, which is pretty hard given that he's one of the most beautiful people to have ever graced the planet. Good movie.
The plan was to then go to D's to watch Koyaanisqatsi, which we decided would be really really amazing or trite. My vote leaned towards pretentious, but I said I'd give it a chance.
First of all, the opening song. OK. Do I like Philip Glass? I can't decide. It depends on my mood. I can't get the goddamn song out of my head. Male voices chanting Koyaanisqatsi really lowly, really slowly, really monotonously. I can't get them to stop!!! It's infuriating.
Second of all, it is possible that I've seen it before! This boy I knew shortly after graduating college, who I did not kiss although I really wanted to, took me to see a Philip Glass scored film at the Wang Center. I was dragged, but I'd have done anything to spend time with him. All I remembered was the Philip Glass music and people moving around really frenetically in a city. Weird.
Third of all, the reason that I didn't remember having seen it was because I had terrible violent food poisoning during my viewing it! Crazy! I kept saying "I think I have seen this but its so foggy because I had food poisoning... I was so delirious... and I kept having to run out... and this might actually be why I hold slight animosity towards Philip Glass for no reason at all!"
Therefore, Koyaanisqatsi is to blame for D's food poisoning.
Palm Pilot
I am trying to sell my palm pilot on Craigslist.
Yes, folks, I have a palm pilot.
And no, I don't ever use it. I used it in Boston - in Boston I had a social life to manage. In New York City, where I know few people and where people tend not to make plans in advance, the palm pilot is useless. It would come in handy, however, to keep track of all of the goings-on in NYC - shows, exhibits, openings, etc., but I have no time to look at it. Ever.
In Boston I also used it for things like lists - lists of things I wanted to buy (ah! I long for the days when there was extra money to manage and when I could make lists of stereo components I eventually wanted to own, CD's I wanted to purchase, etc.), trips I wanted to take, phone calls that needed to be returned, boys I'd kissed...
Yes, folks, I kept a list, in my palm pilot, of all the boys I've ever kissed.
I am a sentimental idiot. They all mean something to me, for varied reasons. I always liked to be "Oh my god I totally forgot about so-and-so that was such a cute time!" or "Oh my god I totally forgot about so-and-so thank god because that was weird and awful." But I am a sentimental fool for the good and the bad.
Or I am a dork. Yeah. I am a dork.
I digress...
I also used it for the backlog of songs that needed to be recorded, and what had already been recorded and what remained to recorded. I had a few addresses in there. I never bothered to sync it with a computer. I never bought a memory card for it. I never put photos on it. I never tried to beam something through thin air from someone else's palm to my own.
Basically, my palm pilot was a giant post-it note.
And now I want to sell it.
On Saturday I decided to delete all of the information it contained prior to selling it. I turned it on and thought "Well, I should look one last time at the list of boys, because hopefully the list is now complete."
The list, and everything else, was gone. I guess it had decharged or whatever and everything is gone. Tragic. Now I'll never know how many boys I've kissed!
The palm pilot is now on Craigslist, and I got one response from a guy who wants me to ship it to him and another from a guy who offered me less than I want. I'll take less just to get rid of it. I responded to him and am now anxiously awaiting his response. This is like dating - will he write back? When? I can't wait! He hasn't written back and its been over an hour. Man. I want to be rid of the palm pilot. And what's with the guy who wants me to ship it? No way. That defeats the point of Craigslist. If I was going to ship it I'd have put it on EBay. Craigslist should involve no effort by me, especially my waiting in line at a post office.
I am feeling a little guilty because the palm pilot was a gift. My parents gave it to me for Christmas. But I never use it! Plus, do they have to know? They'll never know. Father would be proud. Right. I have to keep telling myself that.
So wish my luck. I've had good luck with Craigslist. Hopefully I'll be rid of the palm pilot by week's end, and I'll have money to put towards the list of things that I will now never be able to buy!
Yes, folks, I have a palm pilot.
And no, I don't ever use it. I used it in Boston - in Boston I had a social life to manage. In New York City, where I know few people and where people tend not to make plans in advance, the palm pilot is useless. It would come in handy, however, to keep track of all of the goings-on in NYC - shows, exhibits, openings, etc., but I have no time to look at it. Ever.
In Boston I also used it for things like lists - lists of things I wanted to buy (ah! I long for the days when there was extra money to manage and when I could make lists of stereo components I eventually wanted to own, CD's I wanted to purchase, etc.), trips I wanted to take, phone calls that needed to be returned, boys I'd kissed...
Yes, folks, I kept a list, in my palm pilot, of all the boys I've ever kissed.
I am a sentimental idiot. They all mean something to me, for varied reasons. I always liked to be "Oh my god I totally forgot about so-and-so that was such a cute time!" or "Oh my god I totally forgot about so-and-so thank god because that was weird and awful." But I am a sentimental fool for the good and the bad.
Or I am a dork. Yeah. I am a dork.
I digress...
I also used it for the backlog of songs that needed to be recorded, and what had already been recorded and what remained to recorded. I had a few addresses in there. I never bothered to sync it with a computer. I never bought a memory card for it. I never put photos on it. I never tried to beam something through thin air from someone else's palm to my own.
Basically, my palm pilot was a giant post-it note.
And now I want to sell it.
On Saturday I decided to delete all of the information it contained prior to selling it. I turned it on and thought "Well, I should look one last time at the list of boys, because hopefully the list is now complete."
The list, and everything else, was gone. I guess it had decharged or whatever and everything is gone. Tragic. Now I'll never know how many boys I've kissed!
The palm pilot is now on Craigslist, and I got one response from a guy who wants me to ship it to him and another from a guy who offered me less than I want. I'll take less just to get rid of it. I responded to him and am now anxiously awaiting his response. This is like dating - will he write back? When? I can't wait! He hasn't written back and its been over an hour. Man. I want to be rid of the palm pilot. And what's with the guy who wants me to ship it? No way. That defeats the point of Craigslist. If I was going to ship it I'd have put it on EBay. Craigslist should involve no effort by me, especially my waiting in line at a post office.
I am feeling a little guilty because the palm pilot was a gift. My parents gave it to me for Christmas. But I never use it! Plus, do they have to know? They'll never know. Father would be proud. Right. I have to keep telling myself that.
So wish my luck. I've had good luck with Craigslist. Hopefully I'll be rid of the palm pilot by week's end, and I'll have money to put towards the list of things that I will now never be able to buy!
Life Out of Balance - Part 1
It amazes me that D can still remain cute when sick.
D was very ill last night. The current theory is food poisoning. My feeling is that a tomato left at room temperature for a little less than a week in a very hot apartment is the likely culprit. He blames "weird cheeses put in an omelette."
Either way, it was a rough night.
I am consumed with feelings of both sympathy and helplessness. I realize that there is nothing I can do. I just want him to be better. I don't want him to suffer. Ever. I can't stand it.
I am fairly convinced that I should never, ever have children.
I woke up at about 5am after having gone to sleep at about 1am, and remained awake listening to D sigh loudly while he tossed and turned and fidgeted and moaned and said "Is it hot in here? I'm hot" and then two minutes later "I'm freezing. Where are the blankets?" Awful. I couldn't sleep at all. He was suffering and I couldn't get that, as well as other things, off my mind.
I am dead tired.
I am wondering if D is ok. I think I will stop by after lunch to see how he is doing. I asked him if he wanted me to (he was so delirious) and he was all smiley and "Yes, I would like you to take care of me." In the same situation, I'd have said "No, don't worry about it" even though I meant "Yes, please, I need you. And bring apple sauce with you!"
I also can't help thinking "I wish I were sick." Some deranged part of my psyche is hoping that D has a one day flu and that I will catch it. Why? Because I want to stay home. I want to sleep late. I want to watch movies and not feel guilty about it and not feel that I am wasting time. Yes, I realize that being sick is terrible. I never get sick. Ever. I never miss work for something like a cold or flu or infection. I miss work for things like kidney stones and minor surgeries. I never have allergies or transient flus. I had an ear infection earlier in the year, and I may have missed like half a day.
I had food poisoning earlier in the year. It was bad. It was when D and I were first dating. I'd spent the night at his house - it was maybe the fourth or fifth time ever - and I was mortified, embarrassed, pale, pouting. I stayed home from work that day, and you know what? It was awesome! Granted, I couldn't eat and my bowels were ripping themselves to shreds, but I got to do the dishes! And I watched TV! And read blogs! And made a mix CD for D! And I slept. Lots.
So yeah. I'm tired and worried and lame today. It's weird because I am used to D being around and he's not and that makes me sad. Lame lame lame.
I also don't have much work to do, which makes things worse. Plenty of time for my mind to wander and think things like "What if it isn't the flu? What if there's something wrong with him again? What if it's like last time?"
My stomach churns just thinking about last time.
I am such a zombie right now.
I should work a bit.
More later.
D was very ill last night. The current theory is food poisoning. My feeling is that a tomato left at room temperature for a little less than a week in a very hot apartment is the likely culprit. He blames "weird cheeses put in an omelette."
Either way, it was a rough night.
I am consumed with feelings of both sympathy and helplessness. I realize that there is nothing I can do. I just want him to be better. I don't want him to suffer. Ever. I can't stand it.
I am fairly convinced that I should never, ever have children.
I woke up at about 5am after having gone to sleep at about 1am, and remained awake listening to D sigh loudly while he tossed and turned and fidgeted and moaned and said "Is it hot in here? I'm hot" and then two minutes later "I'm freezing. Where are the blankets?" Awful. I couldn't sleep at all. He was suffering and I couldn't get that, as well as other things, off my mind.
I am dead tired.
I am wondering if D is ok. I think I will stop by after lunch to see how he is doing. I asked him if he wanted me to (he was so delirious) and he was all smiley and "Yes, I would like you to take care of me." In the same situation, I'd have said "No, don't worry about it" even though I meant "Yes, please, I need you. And bring apple sauce with you!"
I also can't help thinking "I wish I were sick." Some deranged part of my psyche is hoping that D has a one day flu and that I will catch it. Why? Because I want to stay home. I want to sleep late. I want to watch movies and not feel guilty about it and not feel that I am wasting time. Yes, I realize that being sick is terrible. I never get sick. Ever. I never miss work for something like a cold or flu or infection. I miss work for things like kidney stones and minor surgeries. I never have allergies or transient flus. I had an ear infection earlier in the year, and I may have missed like half a day.
I had food poisoning earlier in the year. It was bad. It was when D and I were first dating. I'd spent the night at his house - it was maybe the fourth or fifth time ever - and I was mortified, embarrassed, pale, pouting. I stayed home from work that day, and you know what? It was awesome! Granted, I couldn't eat and my bowels were ripping themselves to shreds, but I got to do the dishes! And I watched TV! And read blogs! And made a mix CD for D! And I slept. Lots.
So yeah. I'm tired and worried and lame today. It's weird because I am used to D being around and he's not and that makes me sad. Lame lame lame.
I also don't have much work to do, which makes things worse. Plenty of time for my mind to wander and think things like "What if it isn't the flu? What if there's something wrong with him again? What if it's like last time?"
My stomach churns just thinking about last time.
I am such a zombie right now.
I should work a bit.
More later.
Monday, August 29, 2005
A Weekend in New York - How Novel!
The weekend was lovely.
On Friday night, I left work early to meet my friends JV and L who were in town from Boston. L ultimately had to show me her engagement ring because I did not see it, despite the fact that she was basically thrusting it in my face! How very exciting - they'd chosen not to call me to inform me of the engagement because they thought it would be cuter to surprise me when I noticed the ring. Of course I didn't notice, which is predictable. I am thrilled for JV and L. I am voting for a theme wedding at Sturbridge Village, but I have a feeling my vote doesn't really count.
JV and L were in town to see JV's friend M's musical, which was showing as part of the NYC Fringe Festival, a two-week-long theater festival of off-off-off Broadway plays. I liked it more than I expected to. The musical definitely has potential - M wrote the story, lyrics, and dialogue, but it was apparent that he'd lost creative control. It must be so difficult to completely surrender one's vision to a director. I was disappointed by the lead - apparently the lead was in Alias (which I've never seen) and was therefore not entirely comfortable singing or with being on stage. Disappointing. I didn't believe anything about him. It's hard to get wrapped up in something with a drippy protagonist. The remainder of the cast, however, was exceptional. It was much better than I expected, and hopefully, with better staging, this musical will go somewhere. Congrats M!
Afterwards we headed to Rissoteria, where we had, of course, risotto, and pizza! I've been to Rissoteria a million times but it had never occurred to me to have pizza. It was very, very, very good. We then met up with D at his apartment and had some drinks, and finally headed out for desserts.
******************
On Saturday I met up with my friends JW and BS from college, who were also in town to see M's musical. We met on Bleeker and had brunch, caught up (I haven't seen JW in nearly two years!), reminisced, longed for the college days.
******************
After brunch I walked through a street fair on Bleeker, where I bought a new satchel to replace Decaying Satchel. I've had Decaying Satchel since like 1998. It's a mess, but for some reason I am extremely attached to it. I've been trying to replace it for over a year and just haven't found anything better.
I found a black one on Saturday that I didn't think was better, but for $14 on the street can you really go wrong?
I picked it up, posed with it and thought "This could do... this is doable..." I decided to buy it, but upon closer inspection realized that there was a blemish on the front. If I were a more assertive person, I'd have said "Look, this is imperfect... what if I give you $10 for it instead of $14?" but instead I said:
Me: Hey, look, there's something on this.
Woman: Oh, that's just from sticker.
Me: Yes, well, I don't know. Umm... you don't have another one somewhere, do you?
Woman: No.
Me: Oh, well, yeah. See, I want this but there's this stuff on it.
Woman: Oh, that's just from the sticker. See? (scrapes it a bit, nothing happens)
Me: Oh, yeah, that's too bad. I'm not sure I want it if its got the sticker.
Woman: You can just take it off with water.
Me: Oh. Well, I'm not sure that will work. (because water never removes the gooey sticker residue from things, as much as you'd like it to)
Woman: No, water. Just use water.
Me: (silence, confused look, waiting for her to say "Just take it for $10")
Woman: You can just use water.
Me: I don't think water will work, actually.
Woman: It will.
Me: It's sticky, though.
Woman: Want me try to take it off? I have water.
Me: Go nuts.
Woman: (puts Poland Springs onto a tissue and starts scrubbing and nothing, of course, happens, other than small little pieces of tissue being stuck to the bag)
Me: Yeah, see?
Woman: I meant oil. You use oil to get off.
Me: Oil?
Woman: You know, oil.
Me: Right. (lying)
Woman: I mean alcohol. Use alcohol. You know. Rubbing alcohol.
Oil, the opposite of water. Yes. And alcohol, right.
I bought the bag for $14 because I was getting nowhere.
The bag is miraculous. It's like Mary Poppins' bag. It's the same size as Decaying Satchel but holds 10x the amount of stuff. YES! I am thrilled, and am experiencing zero remorse about the retirement of Decaying Satchel.
******************
I then headed uptown to the MOMA, where I walked around and took pictures and tried very hard to remember the names of artists and paintings and sculptures that I like. I was there mainly to see the Lee Friendlander exhibit, which was amazing. It was so amazing that I ended up buying the book.
My original intention was to head down to the HOWL Festival in the East Village after the MOMA, but instead I went back to my apartment because the Lee Friendlander book weighed about 30 pounds.
Photos of MOMA Outing forthcoming...
******************
I went back to my apartment where I downloaded some photos, did some music-related projects, cooked a lavish dinner, and actually relaxed!
I then met D to see Brothers Grimm, which you should not see.
It wasn't terrible, but it wasn't good either. It was basically a two hour shout out to fairy tales. It was more in the Style of Terry Gilliam than a Terry Gilliam movie. It was nice visually, but otherwise completely flat. And it didn't make a lot of sense, but I guess that's not the point.
In addition, the French characters all had French accents, the Italian character had an Italian accent, and the German characters were all...British.
Such a pet peeve of mine.
******************
On Sunday D and I went to D's friend's house on Long Island. She and her husband have a huge house that's nicely decorated. They have a cottage in their back yard. And a pool. I said "D, let's be rich!" The purpose for the visit was swimming, but it was overcast and not terribly warm, so the pool wasn't swimmable. It didn't matter, because we sat around and ate and chatted and I enjoyed the sounds of birds and insects. I forget how comforting that can be. It was so nice to be barefoot walking on grass!
D's friend's husband works in television, and on one of their shelves were many Emmy Awards. I didn't even ask if I could touch one. Instead I just picked one up and started delivering a speech, thanking my mother for all of her support and encouragement when nobody else believed in me.
A note on Emmy's: They are huge. I am wondering if everyone who's ever received an Emmy is a giant. Seriously. They are humongous. Not as heavy as I'd anticipated, but definitely taller. D wanted to take my picture with it, but I thought that was a little excessive. Not that giving a speech in someone's house isn't excessive, but you have to draw the line somewhere! I said "No, D, no, really, don't bother" but now I really regret it. I'm sure we'll be back, at which point I will have hundreds of photos taken of my acceptance speech.
******************
Upon returning from Long Island (and after a really bizarre nap - you know the kind -when you don't even realize you've fallen asleep and then suddenly someone is tapping your shoulder saying "We're at Penn Station" and you don't believe them because you just left Long Island! and then you walk up the stairs but your whole leg is asleep and you don't get reoriented for another two hours or so), we went to D's apartment and set it up in Furniture Conformation 2, which might end up being the winner. This new arrangement, while not as aesthetically pleasing as Furniture Conformation 1, has the advantage of the Bed-In-Nook concept, which is awesome for sleeping.
******************
We hung out there for a bit, and then headed to this adorable little bar called Cooper 35 for E's non-surprise surprise birthday party!
Despite being on detox, D and I fell prey to the 4 mixed drinks for $12 ticket scheme and actually ended up drinking way more than that! Yum. There was all sorts of food and new people. E has nice friends - people I'd actually like to see again! I think this could be my best Experience with Strangers in New York thus far. It seems that they were mostly film students or significant others of film students. And then there was French Roommate. And some other people. All lovely. When we arrived, I was like "Wait! How will we know who's here for the party? I don't know any of E's friends!" but they were nice and welcoming and it was like we were all old friends.
We had much fun.
******************
And now its Monday and I am tired, because detox did not occur.
I have little planned for the week, though, and D and I are headed to Orlando on Friday to force ourselves not to do anything on Labor Day. Spending time with parents and beaches guarantees relaxation. We are going to scramble to watch all of our Netflixes tonight so we can get three new ones for the trip. We will watch movies and swim in the ocean and eat well and read lots of books and there will be no Labor.
It's going to be awshummmmm.
On Friday night, I left work early to meet my friends JV and L who were in town from Boston. L ultimately had to show me her engagement ring because I did not see it, despite the fact that she was basically thrusting it in my face! How very exciting - they'd chosen not to call me to inform me of the engagement because they thought it would be cuter to surprise me when I noticed the ring. Of course I didn't notice, which is predictable. I am thrilled for JV and L. I am voting for a theme wedding at Sturbridge Village, but I have a feeling my vote doesn't really count.
JV and L were in town to see JV's friend M's musical, which was showing as part of the NYC Fringe Festival, a two-week-long theater festival of off-off-off Broadway plays. I liked it more than I expected to. The musical definitely has potential - M wrote the story, lyrics, and dialogue, but it was apparent that he'd lost creative control. It must be so difficult to completely surrender one's vision to a director. I was disappointed by the lead - apparently the lead was in Alias (which I've never seen) and was therefore not entirely comfortable singing or with being on stage. Disappointing. I didn't believe anything about him. It's hard to get wrapped up in something with a drippy protagonist. The remainder of the cast, however, was exceptional. It was much better than I expected, and hopefully, with better staging, this musical will go somewhere. Congrats M!
Afterwards we headed to Rissoteria, where we had, of course, risotto, and pizza! I've been to Rissoteria a million times but it had never occurred to me to have pizza. It was very, very, very good. We then met up with D at his apartment and had some drinks, and finally headed out for desserts.
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On Saturday I met up with my friends JW and BS from college, who were also in town to see M's musical. We met on Bleeker and had brunch, caught up (I haven't seen JW in nearly two years!), reminisced, longed for the college days.
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After brunch I walked through a street fair on Bleeker, where I bought a new satchel to replace Decaying Satchel. I've had Decaying Satchel since like 1998. It's a mess, but for some reason I am extremely attached to it. I've been trying to replace it for over a year and just haven't found anything better.
I found a black one on Saturday that I didn't think was better, but for $14 on the street can you really go wrong?
I picked it up, posed with it and thought "This could do... this is doable..." I decided to buy it, but upon closer inspection realized that there was a blemish on the front. If I were a more assertive person, I'd have said "Look, this is imperfect... what if I give you $10 for it instead of $14?" but instead I said:
Me: Hey, look, there's something on this.
Woman: Oh, that's just from sticker.
Me: Yes, well, I don't know. Umm... you don't have another one somewhere, do you?
Woman: No.
Me: Oh, well, yeah. See, I want this but there's this stuff on it.
Woman: Oh, that's just from the sticker. See? (scrapes it a bit, nothing happens)
Me: Oh, yeah, that's too bad. I'm not sure I want it if its got the sticker.
Woman: You can just take it off with water.
Me: Oh. Well, I'm not sure that will work. (because water never removes the gooey sticker residue from things, as much as you'd like it to)
Woman: No, water. Just use water.
Me: (silence, confused look, waiting for her to say "Just take it for $10")
Woman: You can just use water.
Me: I don't think water will work, actually.
Woman: It will.
Me: It's sticky, though.
Woman: Want me try to take it off? I have water.
Me: Go nuts.
Woman: (puts Poland Springs onto a tissue and starts scrubbing and nothing, of course, happens, other than small little pieces of tissue being stuck to the bag)
Me: Yeah, see?
Woman: I meant oil. You use oil to get off.
Me: Oil?
Woman: You know, oil.
Me: Right. (lying)
Woman: I mean alcohol. Use alcohol. You know. Rubbing alcohol.
Oil, the opposite of water. Yes. And alcohol, right.
I bought the bag for $14 because I was getting nowhere.
The bag is miraculous. It's like Mary Poppins' bag. It's the same size as Decaying Satchel but holds 10x the amount of stuff. YES! I am thrilled, and am experiencing zero remorse about the retirement of Decaying Satchel.
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I then headed uptown to the MOMA, where I walked around and took pictures and tried very hard to remember the names of artists and paintings and sculptures that I like. I was there mainly to see the Lee Friendlander exhibit, which was amazing. It was so amazing that I ended up buying the book.
My original intention was to head down to the HOWL Festival in the East Village after the MOMA, but instead I went back to my apartment because the Lee Friendlander book weighed about 30 pounds.
Photos of MOMA Outing forthcoming...
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I went back to my apartment where I downloaded some photos, did some music-related projects, cooked a lavish dinner, and actually relaxed!
I then met D to see Brothers Grimm, which you should not see.
It wasn't terrible, but it wasn't good either. It was basically a two hour shout out to fairy tales. It was more in the Style of Terry Gilliam than a Terry Gilliam movie. It was nice visually, but otherwise completely flat. And it didn't make a lot of sense, but I guess that's not the point.
In addition, the French characters all had French accents, the Italian character had an Italian accent, and the German characters were all...British.
Such a pet peeve of mine.
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On Sunday D and I went to D's friend's house on Long Island. She and her husband have a huge house that's nicely decorated. They have a cottage in their back yard. And a pool. I said "D, let's be rich!" The purpose for the visit was swimming, but it was overcast and not terribly warm, so the pool wasn't swimmable. It didn't matter, because we sat around and ate and chatted and I enjoyed the sounds of birds and insects. I forget how comforting that can be. It was so nice to be barefoot walking on grass!
D's friend's husband works in television, and on one of their shelves were many Emmy Awards. I didn't even ask if I could touch one. Instead I just picked one up and started delivering a speech, thanking my mother for all of her support and encouragement when nobody else believed in me.
A note on Emmy's: They are huge. I am wondering if everyone who's ever received an Emmy is a giant. Seriously. They are humongous. Not as heavy as I'd anticipated, but definitely taller. D wanted to take my picture with it, but I thought that was a little excessive. Not that giving a speech in someone's house isn't excessive, but you have to draw the line somewhere! I said "No, D, no, really, don't bother" but now I really regret it. I'm sure we'll be back, at which point I will have hundreds of photos taken of my acceptance speech.
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Upon returning from Long Island (and after a really bizarre nap - you know the kind -when you don't even realize you've fallen asleep and then suddenly someone is tapping your shoulder saying "We're at Penn Station" and you don't believe them because you just left Long Island! and then you walk up the stairs but your whole leg is asleep and you don't get reoriented for another two hours or so), we went to D's apartment and set it up in Furniture Conformation 2, which might end up being the winner. This new arrangement, while not as aesthetically pleasing as Furniture Conformation 1, has the advantage of the Bed-In-Nook concept, which is awesome for sleeping.
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We hung out there for a bit, and then headed to this adorable little bar called Cooper 35 for E's non-surprise surprise birthday party!
Despite being on detox, D and I fell prey to the 4 mixed drinks for $12 ticket scheme and actually ended up drinking way more than that! Yum. There was all sorts of food and new people. E has nice friends - people I'd actually like to see again! I think this could be my best Experience with Strangers in New York thus far. It seems that they were mostly film students or significant others of film students. And then there was French Roommate. And some other people. All lovely. When we arrived, I was like "Wait! How will we know who's here for the party? I don't know any of E's friends!" but they were nice and welcoming and it was like we were all old friends.
We had much fun.
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And now its Monday and I am tired, because detox did not occur.
I have little planned for the week, though, and D and I are headed to Orlando on Friday to force ourselves not to do anything on Labor Day. Spending time with parents and beaches guarantees relaxation. We are going to scramble to watch all of our Netflixes tonight so we can get three new ones for the trip. We will watch movies and swim in the ocean and eat well and read lots of books and there will be no Labor.
It's going to be awshummmmm.
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