D and I went to another taping of Inside the Actor's Studio last night. The guest was Don Cheadle! Sorry, kids, I am still gushing with love for James Lipton.
Some thoughts:
Don Cheadle looks exactly like my friend PE from Boston. It's uncanny.
I want Don Cheadle to be my friend. He's just... nice.
For the entire taping, I had Mos Def's Do It Now in my head, because in it Mos says "I'm black like Don Cheadle shoutin' 'power to the people!'"
Don Cheadle has apparently been a serious actor since he was in, like, 5th grade, when he played Templeton in his elementary school's production of Charlotte's Web. He said he actually researched rat psychology so that he could play the part convincingly. In typical fashion, Lipton asked Don Cheadle if he remembered any of the songs from the musical and if so, he was then required to sing them. I've never seen the show on stage, but I was quite fond of the cartoon as a child. When Don Cheadle started singing "A fair is a veritable smorgasbord orgasbord orgasbord.... after the crowds have ceased" I totally tripped out. I had completely forgotten that there were songs in the cartoon! And so I had that in my head all night.
Nobody can convince me that Crash was a good movie, not even Don Cheadle himself. They showed clips and I wanted to stage a revolt.
Don Cheadle's performance in Hotel Rwaanda is one of the best performances I've ever seen. I got goose bumps watching the clips. The man is good.
Yeah. It was good. When we got home we made cookies and watched The Tenants, which was not good aside from Snoop Dogg, who was, as always, awesome.
And then I fell asleep, without the aid of ear plugs, which is a big deal folks. I think I've been able to sleep a total of 5 times in my current apartment without them. I was thrilled.
The weekend is nearly upon us. And I'm here this weekend. Yes! Although I have to shop for a stupid dress for a wedding, which I am not happy about, but whatever. There will be fun intermingled with stupid shopping, although I am planning my wardrobe overhaul (long story) so am hoping to get a start this weekend, which could be fun. OK. Time for lunch. Later!
Friday, March 17, 2006
Food Glorious Food
Trader Joe's opens in Manhattan today!!!
Yes!
Or, rather, oh well, as I probably won't ever be able to tolerate shopping there as it will constantly be a mob scence since it is (a) one of the only real grocery stores in the city and (b) it is the best grocery store ever.
But a girl can dream.
Yes!
Or, rather, oh well, as I probably won't ever be able to tolerate shopping there as it will constantly be a mob scence since it is (a) one of the only real grocery stores in the city and (b) it is the best grocery store ever.
But a girl can dream.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Horshack
I just read that there will be a remake of Welcome Back Kotter! I loved that show. Allegedly Ice Cube will assume the role of Mr. Kott-air. Nuts.
***
I also watched the news last night for about two seconds and learned that the host of Press Your Luck, another one of my favorite shows, died while piloting a plane! My heart is broken. It's bizarre that I mentioned Wammy's yesterday.
(Sidenote: does it seem like the likelihood of dying in a plane crash is higher if you are a celebrity? Is this because celebrities are prone to flying in smaller, non-commercial crafts that are likely to crash?)
***
I went to the dentist this morning (I love that my dentist shows movies in the waiting room - I managed to watch about half of Mission Impossible, which was cool except that I constantly made aware of how late the appointment was), and kept obsessing over how many masochists get aroused by being at the dentist. They gave me another lifetime supply of satin floss, which I distributed to my coworkers.
***
I bought more glasses last week. I know what you're thinking - you addict! STOP! STOP IT!!!
No, I will not stop it, because why not? First of all, insurance gives me $200 a year for eyewear, so I might as well spend it! Second of all, there was a sample sale in my building! They said "Sunglasses and reading glasses - $5 and up."
Since reading glasses can function as regular frames, and are much cheaper, I figured I had nothing to lose by checking.
I left with two pairs.
Guess how much? No, just guess. Seriously - guess.
$2. For both. One dollar each.
Heh.
And they are both awesome.
I'd intended to go to Chinatown this afternoon for a looooong lunch to drop them off for lenses, but it is so freaking windy. I don't know if I want to be out there for half an hour. Of course I am rabid to wear my new glasses, though. I'll have to check the weather to see what its going to be like later in the week.
***
Thanks for your advice about fondue! I spent the entirety of yesterday trying to find the perfect set, and gave up. There is no brushed stainless steel sterno-fueled minimalist-looking fondue set that is good enough for my boy.
So, instead, he will be getting this one:
This one is good because (a) it is blue and we all know how the boy likes blue and (b) it is simple in design and (c) it is small, which was another criteria (I failed to mention this) since space in these here parts is limited.
I'm sure he'll hate it and I will have to return it (which will be annoying since I will have to ship it back to who-knows-where), but, as M said, I should not talk it personally and not have a broken heart because this is just how he is and it has nothing to do with my gift-giving ability.
The ironic thing is that his perfectionism is contagious and I therefore looked at fondue sets for no less than four hours yesterday.
Once I settled on this blue set, I was distressed to learn that it was only available in England or from one US website that didn't get good reviews. Rather than settle for the second best fondue set, I spent an hour last night searching and searching and searching for it somewhere else, which is such a D thing to do.
***
D is coming back tonight and therefore my single days are over. I got a lot done - wrote a song, did my taxes (refund! woop!), cleaned my apartment, washed sheets/towels, watched 24 Hour Party People, and, most importantly, figured out "the future."
I ran the new plan by D last night and he was thrilled.
Happiness all around.
We will have to discuss things more in-depth, but I am feeling good and optimistic and actually hopeful.
Hopefully, if all goes well, we (we?!) can get a big, real fondue set some time in the near future.
***
I also watched the news last night for about two seconds and learned that the host of Press Your Luck, another one of my favorite shows, died while piloting a plane! My heart is broken. It's bizarre that I mentioned Wammy's yesterday.
(Sidenote: does it seem like the likelihood of dying in a plane crash is higher if you are a celebrity? Is this because celebrities are prone to flying in smaller, non-commercial crafts that are likely to crash?)
***
I went to the dentist this morning (I love that my dentist shows movies in the waiting room - I managed to watch about half of Mission Impossible, which was cool except that I constantly made aware of how late the appointment was), and kept obsessing over how many masochists get aroused by being at the dentist. They gave me another lifetime supply of satin floss, which I distributed to my coworkers.
***
I bought more glasses last week. I know what you're thinking - you addict! STOP! STOP IT!!!
No, I will not stop it, because why not? First of all, insurance gives me $200 a year for eyewear, so I might as well spend it! Second of all, there was a sample sale in my building! They said "Sunglasses and reading glasses - $5 and up."
Since reading glasses can function as regular frames, and are much cheaper, I figured I had nothing to lose by checking.
I left with two pairs.
Guess how much? No, just guess. Seriously - guess.
$2. For both. One dollar each.
Heh.
And they are both awesome.
I'd intended to go to Chinatown this afternoon for a looooong lunch to drop them off for lenses, but it is so freaking windy. I don't know if I want to be out there for half an hour. Of course I am rabid to wear my new glasses, though. I'll have to check the weather to see what its going to be like later in the week.
***
Thanks for your advice about fondue! I spent the entirety of yesterday trying to find the perfect set, and gave up. There is no brushed stainless steel sterno-fueled minimalist-looking fondue set that is good enough for my boy.
So, instead, he will be getting this one:
This one is good because (a) it is blue and we all know how the boy likes blue and (b) it is simple in design and (c) it is small, which was another criteria (I failed to mention this) since space in these here parts is limited.
I'm sure he'll hate it and I will have to return it (which will be annoying since I will have to ship it back to who-knows-where), but, as M said, I should not talk it personally and not have a broken heart because this is just how he is and it has nothing to do with my gift-giving ability.
The ironic thing is that his perfectionism is contagious and I therefore looked at fondue sets for no less than four hours yesterday.
Once I settled on this blue set, I was distressed to learn that it was only available in England or from one US website that didn't get good reviews. Rather than settle for the second best fondue set, I spent an hour last night searching and searching and searching for it somewhere else, which is such a D thing to do.
***
D is coming back tonight and therefore my single days are over. I got a lot done - wrote a song, did my taxes (refund! woop!), cleaned my apartment, washed sheets/towels, watched 24 Hour Party People, and, most importantly, figured out "the future."
I ran the new plan by D last night and he was thrilled.
Happiness all around.
We will have to discuss things more in-depth, but I am feeling good and optimistic and actually hopeful.
Hopefully, if all goes well, we (we?!) can get a big, real fondue set some time in the near future.
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
The Baxter
I went to Heeb Magazine's American Schmidol last night at the Bowery Ballroom with E and M. It was being held in celebration of Purim, and was basically an American Idol-style karaoke challenge being judged by Michael Ian Black, Michael Showalter, and the other guy from Stella.
Because I was sick and therefore unable to drink and therefore super intimidated by the amount of people at the show, I didn't sign up to sing. I spent the entire time wishing I was feeling better, because singing at The Bowery would have been a fantasy come true. Oh well. Maybe next year.
The guys from Stella were super funny, and the karaoke was refreshing in that it wasn't all good. This is a rarity in NYC, where everyone is a star. There were some really good singers, but there were some terribly atrocious singers as well. Unlike Super Mecca Karaoke Smackdown, there was no gong or person dressed up as a Whammy to stop the bad performances.
I had to leave early as I thought that my left ear was going to explode. I don't know if there's an ear infection brewing or if the karaoke just felt like daggers in my already sick head. E stayed behind and said that I didn't miss much.
Anyway.
Onto more important things, namely Michael Showalter. I apparently have (and probably always will have) a crush on him after seeing The Baxter. I was standing far back in the audience, but I swear that he was staring at me from the stage. He was probably thinking "That girl is Punjabi, not Jewish" or "That girl looks ill" or "That girl's glasses are too big for her face," but in my mind I was certain that he fancied me.
I was trying to decide if I should wave or smile or do something just to verify that he was, indeed, staring at me.
But then I thought "Why would I do that? So what if he is? Who cares?"
Or worse, "What if he is?"
If I'd confirmed that he was looking at me, and he responded to whatever I did, I'd be forced to stay all night despite sickness and boyfriend so that I could talk to him after the show.
But why? Why would I do that?
I decided not to smile at him, because there would be no point.
It got me to thinking, though, about couples who make fantasy arrangements with their signficant others. For example, I would allow D to sleep with Michelle Williams because that would be awesome. I imagine D would allow me to sleep with Clive Owen or George Clooney if the opportunity presented itself.
This is all null and void if you live in NYC, where these sorts of things are actually possible. Let's say, for instance, that I did stay last night and that I talked to Michael Showalter and that I got drunk etc. etc. This is not allowed.
I guess when you're fantasizing about these sorts of things you just imagine that the celebrity shows up in your significant other's room and says "I would like to sleep with you now" and that's it. Your signficiant other is powerless because Michelle Williams is in his room, as are you, because George Clooney has just appeared in your bed! Who wouldn't sleep with him?
But in the real world, in NYC, it wouldn't be like that. You'd talk and you'd make the decision to do it and it would ruin everything.
Because I was sick and therefore unable to drink and therefore super intimidated by the amount of people at the show, I didn't sign up to sing. I spent the entire time wishing I was feeling better, because singing at The Bowery would have been a fantasy come true. Oh well. Maybe next year.
The guys from Stella were super funny, and the karaoke was refreshing in that it wasn't all good. This is a rarity in NYC, where everyone is a star. There were some really good singers, but there were some terribly atrocious singers as well. Unlike Super Mecca Karaoke Smackdown, there was no gong or person dressed up as a Whammy to stop the bad performances.
I had to leave early as I thought that my left ear was going to explode. I don't know if there's an ear infection brewing or if the karaoke just felt like daggers in my already sick head. E stayed behind and said that I didn't miss much.
Anyway.
Onto more important things, namely Michael Showalter. I apparently have (and probably always will have) a crush on him after seeing The Baxter. I was standing far back in the audience, but I swear that he was staring at me from the stage. He was probably thinking "That girl is Punjabi, not Jewish" or "That girl looks ill" or "That girl's glasses are too big for her face," but in my mind I was certain that he fancied me.
I was trying to decide if I should wave or smile or do something just to verify that he was, indeed, staring at me.
But then I thought "Why would I do that? So what if he is? Who cares?"
Or worse, "What if he is?"
If I'd confirmed that he was looking at me, and he responded to whatever I did, I'd be forced to stay all night despite sickness and boyfriend so that I could talk to him after the show.
But why? Why would I do that?
I decided not to smile at him, because there would be no point.
It got me to thinking, though, about couples who make fantasy arrangements with their signficant others. For example, I would allow D to sleep with Michelle Williams because that would be awesome. I imagine D would allow me to sleep with Clive Owen or George Clooney if the opportunity presented itself.
This is all null and void if you live in NYC, where these sorts of things are actually possible. Let's say, for instance, that I did stay last night and that I talked to Michael Showalter and that I got drunk etc. etc. This is not allowed.
I guess when you're fantasizing about these sorts of things you just imagine that the celebrity shows up in your significant other's room and says "I would like to sleep with you now" and that's it. Your signficiant other is powerless because Michelle Williams is in his room, as are you, because George Clooney has just appeared in your bed! Who wouldn't sleep with him?
But in the real world, in NYC, it wouldn't be like that. You'd talk and you'd make the decision to do it and it would ruin everything.
Gifts
D's birthday is coming.
This means that I am faced, again, with the task of finding a gift for someone who is extremely particular, who has extremely rigid and specific taste, who spends his entire life looking for just the perfect knife and won't rest until he finds it.
I have decided on the following:
One batch navy blue M&M's.
One batch white M&M's.
One batch grey M&M's.
These are to match his apartment decor.
In addition:
One fondue set.
One book on fondue.
The M&M's will not be challenging. I'm not sure what to put them in, but anything I choose will not be acceptable so I think it is fine to just give them to him in bags. He will find (or make) some sort of wonderful candy dispersal unit.
The fondue book will be fun. I can't wait to order it.
It is the fondue set that is causing me agita. There exists the option to purchase a navy blue fondue pot, but I'm not sure how he'll feel about that. I think he might find it too cute. I think stainless steel is the way to go, as it is classy and minimalist. But what about shape? I feel like I have to find something as shapeless as possible. And D hates shiny things - he prefers matte finish - do they make matte finish fondue pots?
Anyway, readers, if any of you are bored at work and have a moment to look online for a matte-finish fondue set that is roughly the shape of a cylinder (no frills!) that isn't lit by a tealight, send me an email and let me know what you find.
Thanks!
This means that I am faced, again, with the task of finding a gift for someone who is extremely particular, who has extremely rigid and specific taste, who spends his entire life looking for just the perfect knife and won't rest until he finds it.
I have decided on the following:
One batch navy blue M&M's.
One batch white M&M's.
One batch grey M&M's.
These are to match his apartment decor.
In addition:
One fondue set.
One book on fondue.
The M&M's will not be challenging. I'm not sure what to put them in, but anything I choose will not be acceptable so I think it is fine to just give them to him in bags. He will find (or make) some sort of wonderful candy dispersal unit.
The fondue book will be fun. I can't wait to order it.
It is the fondue set that is causing me agita. There exists the option to purchase a navy blue fondue pot, but I'm not sure how he'll feel about that. I think he might find it too cute. I think stainless steel is the way to go, as it is classy and minimalist. But what about shape? I feel like I have to find something as shapeless as possible. And D hates shiny things - he prefers matte finish - do they make matte finish fondue pots?
Anyway, readers, if any of you are bored at work and have a moment to look online for a matte-finish fondue set that is roughly the shape of a cylinder (no frills!) that isn't lit by a tealight, send me an email and let me know what you find.
Thanks!
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Insecure
I went to MA this weekend and came back to NYC not having any idea what I want to do with my life. I thought I'd figured it all out. Was I just missing what I couldn't have?
When I arrived in NYC, I was thrilled! I was so glad to be back. Alone. Was I glad because I know I won't have this for much longer? Or is this what I really want?
While we were walking around Boston I said "D, I'm not sure that I want to live here."
I *know* I don't want to live in Boston.
I *know* I miss my friends and family, but that's all that I miss about Boston. It's not Boston itself. It's smallness and comfort and security.
If I could take all of my friends and family and transplant them here and also have a job and also live with my boyfriend and also go to school at night, I'd be the happiest person ever.
I am a miserable person right now because I don't know where to go. I don't know what to do when I get there. D bought a camera today and now I feel like I don't even have that anymore. I don't want to share everything. I'm not sure that I'm ready. I feel like that dream is gone (I am an irrational psycho, I know, but must I share everything? can't I have my own thing? can't I be the one who plays piano and takes pictures? can't I be allowed to shine even just a little bit?), and so is Boston, and what am I doing?!
I am making a list of pros and cons. I just don't know if I'm ready. I don't like having all of these huge decisions forced on me. I want to be in control of my life. I don't want some corporate douchebag who wants another million dollars in his bank account to make me uproot my entire life when I'm not ready.
I want to be able to share this with D. I want to be like "Dude, I'm freaking the fuck out right now!" and I want him to somehow say the right thing. Not that I know what the right thing is. I don't know what's right. I don't know what to do. I'm feeling a bit hopeless right now, which is assinine given that there's probably the most hope now. I can do anything I want, but what do I want? What if I mess up? Again? What if what if what if what if....
Ergh.
The problem is this: I am not ready to move, at all. Yes, I have my issues with NYC, and it's frustrating. There are things I hate. But I've been here for less than two years, and I don't feel like I'm finished. I ultimately want to move back to Boston, be close to my family, raise my own. Just not now. There are things I need to do here, I have to grow, and if I move back, I think I'm done.
I have been toying with the idea of San Francisco, but D says it's the individual, not the city, that makes one unhappy. I don't know if I agree. I think circumstances do contribute to happiness or despair. I think D sees the ability to be unhappy as the ultimate weakness.
"What if I hate it there again?"
"You have to make the best of wherever you are."
"What if I'm bored?"
"Then that's your fault. How can you be bored? I can't even remeber the last time I was bored."
"I was bored there before."
"How could you possibly be bored? Even if you're living somewhere boring, there is always literature to read!"
"What if I'm the sort of person who needs newness?"
"Then that's your problem and you need to find a way to deal with it, and make the best out of the old."
"What if I go back to school and I'm uninspired?"
"If you're a real artist, it shouldn't matter where you are."
"But I didn't even pick up a camera until I got to New York. I didn't think I had anything to say, anything to show, anything to offer."
"You could feel like that in San Francisco too."
"What should I do?"
"I think only you can answer that."
"What do you think I should do?"
"I'm not you."
"If you were me, what would you do?"
"I would try to identify what's really freaking you out. Like figure out what a therapist would say. It's not Boston or San Francisco or New York that's the issue. It has nothing to do with where you are. It's something about YOU."
"What do you think it is?"
"You're commitment-phobic."
"True. I don't want to settle down. Boston is it, man."
"Why?"
"Well, we're moving there to be grownups. I'm not ready to be responsible."
"Why can't we move somewhere else later?"
"Why can't we move somewhere else now?"
"I'm scared shitless. I'm scared of school. I'm scared about not having any money. I don't know if I should go full-time. I don't know if I should go to school here. I think its best to go to photography school in NYC."
"The money..."
"But if I go to school full-time in Boston you will have to pay the rent... what do you think about that?"
"I haven't thought about that."
"Of course you haven't. Have you thought about these things at all?"
"I've only thought of your happiness. I just want you to be happy. Pennies don't matter. I thought you were going to be happy in Boston. That's why I would move there. I wouldn't move there on my own, and don't read into that."
"Awww shucks."
"Just be happy. Figure out a way to be happy."
I felt better after we talked, but I still feel like I just have to make a decision for us without actually involving him, which is an additional stress.
What if I can't ever be happy?
Ugh.
I'm useless right now.
When I arrived in NYC, I was thrilled! I was so glad to be back. Alone. Was I glad because I know I won't have this for much longer? Or is this what I really want?
While we were walking around Boston I said "D, I'm not sure that I want to live here."
I *know* I don't want to live in Boston.
I *know* I miss my friends and family, but that's all that I miss about Boston. It's not Boston itself. It's smallness and comfort and security.
If I could take all of my friends and family and transplant them here and also have a job and also live with my boyfriend and also go to school at night, I'd be the happiest person ever.
I am a miserable person right now because I don't know where to go. I don't know what to do when I get there. D bought a camera today and now I feel like I don't even have that anymore. I don't want to share everything. I'm not sure that I'm ready. I feel like that dream is gone (I am an irrational psycho, I know, but must I share everything? can't I have my own thing? can't I be the one who plays piano and takes pictures? can't I be allowed to shine even just a little bit?), and so is Boston, and what am I doing?!
I am making a list of pros and cons. I just don't know if I'm ready. I don't like having all of these huge decisions forced on me. I want to be in control of my life. I don't want some corporate douchebag who wants another million dollars in his bank account to make me uproot my entire life when I'm not ready.
I want to be able to share this with D. I want to be like "Dude, I'm freaking the fuck out right now!" and I want him to somehow say the right thing. Not that I know what the right thing is. I don't know what's right. I don't know what to do. I'm feeling a bit hopeless right now, which is assinine given that there's probably the most hope now. I can do anything I want, but what do I want? What if I mess up? Again? What if what if what if what if....
Ergh.
The problem is this: I am not ready to move, at all. Yes, I have my issues with NYC, and it's frustrating. There are things I hate. But I've been here for less than two years, and I don't feel like I'm finished. I ultimately want to move back to Boston, be close to my family, raise my own. Just not now. There are things I need to do here, I have to grow, and if I move back, I think I'm done.
I have been toying with the idea of San Francisco, but D says it's the individual, not the city, that makes one unhappy. I don't know if I agree. I think circumstances do contribute to happiness or despair. I think D sees the ability to be unhappy as the ultimate weakness.
"What if I hate it there again?"
"You have to make the best of wherever you are."
"What if I'm bored?"
"Then that's your fault. How can you be bored? I can't even remeber the last time I was bored."
"I was bored there before."
"How could you possibly be bored? Even if you're living somewhere boring, there is always literature to read!"
"What if I'm the sort of person who needs newness?"
"Then that's your problem and you need to find a way to deal with it, and make the best out of the old."
"What if I go back to school and I'm uninspired?"
"If you're a real artist, it shouldn't matter where you are."
"But I didn't even pick up a camera until I got to New York. I didn't think I had anything to say, anything to show, anything to offer."
"You could feel like that in San Francisco too."
"What should I do?"
"I think only you can answer that."
"What do you think I should do?"
"I'm not you."
"If you were me, what would you do?"
"I would try to identify what's really freaking you out. Like figure out what a therapist would say. It's not Boston or San Francisco or New York that's the issue. It has nothing to do with where you are. It's something about YOU."
"What do you think it is?"
"You're commitment-phobic."
"True. I don't want to settle down. Boston is it, man."
"Why?"
"Well, we're moving there to be grownups. I'm not ready to be responsible."
"Why can't we move somewhere else later?"
"Why can't we move somewhere else now?"
"I'm scared shitless. I'm scared of school. I'm scared about not having any money. I don't know if I should go full-time. I don't know if I should go to school here. I think its best to go to photography school in NYC."
"The money..."
"But if I go to school full-time in Boston you will have to pay the rent... what do you think about that?"
"I haven't thought about that."
"Of course you haven't. Have you thought about these things at all?"
"I've only thought of your happiness. I just want you to be happy. Pennies don't matter. I thought you were going to be happy in Boston. That's why I would move there. I wouldn't move there on my own, and don't read into that."
"Awww shucks."
"Just be happy. Figure out a way to be happy."
I felt better after we talked, but I still feel like I just have to make a decision for us without actually involving him, which is an additional stress.
What if I can't ever be happy?
Ugh.
I'm useless right now.
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