I snuck out of work early on Friday night to accompany D on his mission to find burner gel whatever for the new fondue set.
As we walked down Wooster Street, I told D about our coworker who was visiting his girlfriend's brother in Boston this weekend. With animation, I ranted on behalf of our colleague who was going to be forced to sleep on an air mattress in a separate room from his girlfriend because of her brother's religious tendencies.
Mid-rant, I saw someone walking towards us who I thought I recognized.
It was Willem Dafoe! What a great sighting!
I continued my story so as not to seem too obvious, but couldn't help staring at him. As we crossed paths, I continued to stare at him and HE STARED BACK AT ME, in scary Willem Dafoe style. His eyes got small and he snarled, and he stared me down! He won as I looked away.
Scary! But awesome.
I heart Willem Dafoe, but he apparently hates me.
I don't hold it against him. I went to see Inside Man yesterday and was happy to find that my friend Willem was in it.
I think this was my favorite being-sighted-by-a-celebrity thus far.
Monday, April 03, 2006
Spring!
I know that spring is here because the cheap fresh fruit stand has re-materialized outside the building. Woo! Cheap bananas! Spring is here!
Friday, March 31, 2006
Warm
I've been not-very-busy lately with nothing but busy work at work, so when not working I have been feeling a bit incoherent and therefore unable to write.
Nevertheless, it was a good week in spite of the newly realized inability to sleep continuously for more than one hour at a time. This being said, the phenomenon was not an issue last night and I am feeling well rested and ready for the weekend.
Here are some things from the week that I meant to blog about but never did.
I saw Lonesome Jim at the IFC. I don't know what is going on with Liv Tyler's face but it is not good. I liked the movie, though, and felt all sorts of MA pride for Casey Affleck, who looks startingly like Ben these days, who is the shame of MA. I liked the movie. There will, of course, be comparisons to Garden State, which I didn't like. Lonesome Jim was understated and not at all overwrought, which is why it was charming. It also addressed the issue of having somewhere to go home to and not necessarily feeling good about that, even though it (unconditional love) is good.
I ran into someone I know after seeing Lonesome Jim, which made me happy. I think running into people in a city this large is a sign of belonging.
I met D for Subway after seeing Lonesome Jim. He was late because he does not check text messages. I said "It might be a good idea to check your text messages, especially when you are supposed to be meeting someone." Bitchy, I am.
We then ran to the Pioneer (literally, ran, since he does not check text messages) and watched Puzzlehead, which was not awesome but still good. The format was a bit challenging and required that you ignore reality and not want explanations. The filmmaker was candid and interesting. It was an instance of the Q & A actually making you like a movie more.
D and I went on a double date (double date! woooo!) with D's friends M and A to see a preview of Brick, which I was very very very excited about. My friend E got us free passes. The movie is good, and will no doubt spawn imitations. I still have a sick crush on Joseph Gordon-Levitt, who was the little kid in Third Rock From The Sun and who is a great actor and really cute.
Even though I liked the movie, I spent a great deal of the viewing fighting to stay awake, as I haven't been sleeping well. It was also freezing in the theater.
We went for drinks at a place that has a zillion beers (irrelevant) and martinis listed by color. The Incredible Hulk was listed under blue, so of course I had to order it to see if it was a mistake. When I ordered it the waitress was like "What?" "I'll have the incredible hulk." "Wait - what?" "The incredible hulk?" "What?" "It's a martini..." She had to look at the menu. It arrived, bizarrely, as a blue drink, and was completely and utterly disgusting.
Went to bed irritable after a moral argument about stealing jelly beans.
Thought about memoire as a genre (thanks, AA, for making my brain and heart explode!) after receiving some disturbing news about a famous memoire that I happened to have read prior to knowing this news. I have been turned off to memoire in the past few years. I was once a fan of David Sedaris, but I started to feel bad for his family. Is it acceptable to use real people as characters to tell your own life story more effectively? I worried about this when Brother was drawing his memoire of sorts, but his work is stretched truth. He makes no claims about veracity. It's loosely based on real people, but the events themselves aren't real. This being said, when he was writing it, I often worried about how I'd be portrayed. What is my function in the telling of another person's story?
Then I think about the blog, and the blog as memoire. I feel like a blog is different, in that it's not-for-profit. The writer isn't selling his family. The writer uses a blog for a different purpose. It's more journal than cohesive tale involving others.
I suppose, though, that it should still be handled delicately.
And with blogs, nobody is making bold claims of honesty, right? It's voyeuristic to read blogs, but there's really no way to know if an anonymous writer is writing the truth. And does it really matter?
Are people's lives affected negatively?
Delicate.
D said "I think one of my shirts is missing!" "Really? Which one?" "I don't know!" "Then how do you know its missing?" "Because I have exactly the same amount of hangers as I have shirts, and there is an extra hanger in my closet!" "Really?" "Yes! Can you look at my shirts to see if you can tell which one is missing?" "Sure, but I won't be able to tell." I was certain I wouldn't be able to tell because, as you all know, D has a very particular wardrobe and all of his shirts look similar. I would only have known if the shirt I gave to him was missing. I was quite impressed with myself when looked in his closet and immediately knew which one was missing.
I don't know if that's impressive or sad.
Now we have no idea where the shirt could be. It's a mystery that I am obsessed with solving.
I was taking a short nap at D's yesterday when I heard the sound of summer - Mr. Softee!!! I nearly broke through his apartment's wall to get myself my first taste of the year.
I have been enjoying this weather. It's perfect right now. Were it like this year round I'd be the happiest girl in the world.
We went to the opera last night and left during intermission. We are terribly unrefined and uncivilized. It was, I'm sorry, just boring. We were both falling asleep and craving cookies.
We found a new supermarket on our way home! A real, actual supermarket! I am thrilled. I meant only to buy milk for the cookies but left with over $50 worth of reasonably-priced food. I bought raspberries, which is a thrill since Gristedes does not reliably have them.
Another thing apartment listings should indicate is proximity to actual real supermarket and likelihood of being able to successfully fulfill your grocery list at one place.
My super's brother is still alive, which is good since we haven't seen him in months. We were worried. He was coming out of the building last night as we returned with bags upon bags of groceries.
I don't have much planned this weekend other than hanging out with NR and bowling and sleeping too much. Rumor has it there will be rain tomorrow. If there is not, I may go to some photo galleries in Chelsea. If there is, I will be reading a book and/or watching a movie. And then buying a birthday cake at my new favorite supermarket. The weekend is long overdue. We all felt like it was Friday on Wednesday and so the last two days have been torture.
Until Monday...
Nevertheless, it was a good week in spite of the newly realized inability to sleep continuously for more than one hour at a time. This being said, the phenomenon was not an issue last night and I am feeling well rested and ready for the weekend.
Here are some things from the week that I meant to blog about but never did.
I saw Lonesome Jim at the IFC. I don't know what is going on with Liv Tyler's face but it is not good. I liked the movie, though, and felt all sorts of MA pride for Casey Affleck, who looks startingly like Ben these days, who is the shame of MA. I liked the movie. There will, of course, be comparisons to Garden State, which I didn't like. Lonesome Jim was understated and not at all overwrought, which is why it was charming. It also addressed the issue of having somewhere to go home to and not necessarily feeling good about that, even though it (unconditional love) is good.
I ran into someone I know after seeing Lonesome Jim, which made me happy. I think running into people in a city this large is a sign of belonging.
I met D for Subway after seeing Lonesome Jim. He was late because he does not check text messages. I said "It might be a good idea to check your text messages, especially when you are supposed to be meeting someone." Bitchy, I am.
We then ran to the Pioneer (literally, ran, since he does not check text messages) and watched Puzzlehead, which was not awesome but still good. The format was a bit challenging and required that you ignore reality and not want explanations. The filmmaker was candid and interesting. It was an instance of the Q & A actually making you like a movie more.
D and I went on a double date (double date! woooo!) with D's friends M and A to see a preview of Brick, which I was very very very excited about. My friend E got us free passes. The movie is good, and will no doubt spawn imitations. I still have a sick crush on Joseph Gordon-Levitt, who was the little kid in Third Rock From The Sun and who is a great actor and really cute.
Even though I liked the movie, I spent a great deal of the viewing fighting to stay awake, as I haven't been sleeping well. It was also freezing in the theater.
We went for drinks at a place that has a zillion beers (irrelevant) and martinis listed by color. The Incredible Hulk was listed under blue, so of course I had to order it to see if it was a mistake. When I ordered it the waitress was like "What?" "I'll have the incredible hulk." "Wait - what?" "The incredible hulk?" "What?" "It's a martini..." She had to look at the menu. It arrived, bizarrely, as a blue drink, and was completely and utterly disgusting.
Went to bed irritable after a moral argument about stealing jelly beans.
Thought about memoire as a genre (thanks, AA, for making my brain and heart explode!) after receiving some disturbing news about a famous memoire that I happened to have read prior to knowing this news. I have been turned off to memoire in the past few years. I was once a fan of David Sedaris, but I started to feel bad for his family. Is it acceptable to use real people as characters to tell your own life story more effectively? I worried about this when Brother was drawing his memoire of sorts, but his work is stretched truth. He makes no claims about veracity. It's loosely based on real people, but the events themselves aren't real. This being said, when he was writing it, I often worried about how I'd be portrayed. What is my function in the telling of another person's story?
Then I think about the blog, and the blog as memoire. I feel like a blog is different, in that it's not-for-profit. The writer isn't selling his family. The writer uses a blog for a different purpose. It's more journal than cohesive tale involving others.
I suppose, though, that it should still be handled delicately.
And with blogs, nobody is making bold claims of honesty, right? It's voyeuristic to read blogs, but there's really no way to know if an anonymous writer is writing the truth. And does it really matter?
Are people's lives affected negatively?
Delicate.
D said "I think one of my shirts is missing!" "Really? Which one?" "I don't know!" "Then how do you know its missing?" "Because I have exactly the same amount of hangers as I have shirts, and there is an extra hanger in my closet!" "Really?" "Yes! Can you look at my shirts to see if you can tell which one is missing?" "Sure, but I won't be able to tell." I was certain I wouldn't be able to tell because, as you all know, D has a very particular wardrobe and all of his shirts look similar. I would only have known if the shirt I gave to him was missing. I was quite impressed with myself when looked in his closet and immediately knew which one was missing.
I don't know if that's impressive or sad.
Now we have no idea where the shirt could be. It's a mystery that I am obsessed with solving.
I was taking a short nap at D's yesterday when I heard the sound of summer - Mr. Softee!!! I nearly broke through his apartment's wall to get myself my first taste of the year.
I have been enjoying this weather. It's perfect right now. Were it like this year round I'd be the happiest girl in the world.
We went to the opera last night and left during intermission. We are terribly unrefined and uncivilized. It was, I'm sorry, just boring. We were both falling asleep and craving cookies.
We found a new supermarket on our way home! A real, actual supermarket! I am thrilled. I meant only to buy milk for the cookies but left with over $50 worth of reasonably-priced food. I bought raspberries, which is a thrill since Gristedes does not reliably have them.
Another thing apartment listings should indicate is proximity to actual real supermarket and likelihood of being able to successfully fulfill your grocery list at one place.
My super's brother is still alive, which is good since we haven't seen him in months. We were worried. He was coming out of the building last night as we returned with bags upon bags of groceries.
I don't have much planned this weekend other than hanging out with NR and bowling and sleeping too much. Rumor has it there will be rain tomorrow. If there is not, I may go to some photo galleries in Chelsea. If there is, I will be reading a book and/or watching a movie. And then buying a birthday cake at my new favorite supermarket. The weekend is long overdue. We all felt like it was Friday on Wednesday and so the last two days have been torture.
Until Monday...
How To Survive A Robot Uprising
That's the name of a book that I really want to read, but since I am poor, I have to wait for it to become available on Paperback Swap, which it never will.
I went to see this film called Puzzlehead at The Pioneer this week. I actually saw many movies this week (more on that later). Puzzlehead has been nearly a decade in the making by a former Columbia film student. It deals with a post-apocalyptic world (Brooklyn) in which robot-making, for a reason left, has been banned. A rogue scientist decides, in spite of this, to create an android in his likeness. The scientist originally starts teaching the robot, but ultimately decides to use the robot as a slave for chores around the house, etc. As you might predict, the robot evolves conscienceness and feelings and even memories, and, well, it's not a good scene.
The movie was good. The filmmaker (who was at the screening) made some interesting choices that were difficult to get used to at first, but that really contributed to the overall vibe of the movie.
Instead of going to the Whitney Biennial tonight, I am going to go home and work on a song about Puzzlehead as a companion piece to My Mundane Life In Song's early hit It Is Cool When Tons of Robots Climb on Things.
And for your re-listening pleasure, here it is!
Name: It Is Cool When Tons of Robots Climb On Things
Genre: Robot-inspired electronic waltz
Date: 7.16.04 (the Somerville era!)
Description:
Briefly, I went to see I, Robot and really liked it even though I didn't want to. But I'm a sucker for robots! And I love this song. Love it love it love it. I almost played it at the open mic because I love it that much.
Lyrics:
Will Smith is flexing his robotic arm
Will Smith is gratuitously showering
And placing products such as Converse
But I liked the movie anyway
Cuz robots rule
And it is cool
When tons of robots climb on things
And take over
The people who made them
What's with the robot detsroying that guy's house
And why the kid? Oh - Viki did it
And is Will Smith really flexing his robotic arm again?
Robots rule
And it is cool
When robots fight and robots feel
Despite bad one liners
And bad acting and a bad screenplay
"I, Robot" was fun anyway
I'll take a robot story anyway
But only if they revolt against people
I went to see this film called Puzzlehead at The Pioneer this week. I actually saw many movies this week (more on that later). Puzzlehead has been nearly a decade in the making by a former Columbia film student. It deals with a post-apocalyptic world (Brooklyn) in which robot-making, for a reason left, has been banned. A rogue scientist decides, in spite of this, to create an android in his likeness. The scientist originally starts teaching the robot, but ultimately decides to use the robot as a slave for chores around the house, etc. As you might predict, the robot evolves conscienceness and feelings and even memories, and, well, it's not a good scene.
The movie was good. The filmmaker (who was at the screening) made some interesting choices that were difficult to get used to at first, but that really contributed to the overall vibe of the movie.
Instead of going to the Whitney Biennial tonight, I am going to go home and work on a song about Puzzlehead as a companion piece to My Mundane Life In Song's early hit It Is Cool When Tons of Robots Climb on Things.
And for your re-listening pleasure, here it is!
Name: It Is Cool When Tons of Robots Climb On Things
Genre: Robot-inspired electronic waltz
Date: 7.16.04 (the Somerville era!)
Description:
Briefly, I went to see I, Robot and really liked it even though I didn't want to. But I'm a sucker for robots! And I love this song. Love it love it love it. I almost played it at the open mic because I love it that much.
Lyrics:
Will Smith is flexing his robotic arm
Will Smith is gratuitously showering
And placing products such as Converse
But I liked the movie anyway
Cuz robots rule
And it is cool
When tons of robots climb on things
And take over
The people who made them
What's with the robot detsroying that guy's house
And why the kid? Oh - Viki did it
And is Will Smith really flexing his robotic arm again?
Robots rule
And it is cool
When robots fight and robots feel
Despite bad one liners
And bad acting and a bad screenplay
"I, Robot" was fun anyway
I'll take a robot story anyway
But only if they revolt against people
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Apartment Listings Part II
I also love it when there's an apartment listing that seems reasonable, and especially reasonable because there is an accompanying picture! And then you click on it... and you read it... and you're excited to see the photos... and then it's a picture of... the realtor.
Ridiculous.
Ridiculous.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Apartment Listings
I didn't sleep well again last night. I hate the sounds of the city. I hate the cabs and the screaming and the hip hop and the arguments. I still haven't gotten used to it.
I decided to look at apartment listings today, just for kicks. Park Slope, Astoria, anywhere where there isn't a gas station and where there is some sense of neighborhood.
Rental rates in and around the city have apparently increased drastically since I got my apartment a year ago. I can't believe how much studios are! And I don't even want a studio! I (we?) need at least a 1 br, with a closet or two, please.
I am surprised by the lack of photos accompanying postings.
I am also surprised that when there is a photo accompanying a posting, it is most likely a picture of the outside of the building in which your 120 square foot apartment will be found. As if people in NYC care what the outside of their building looks like! I'm not sure that I even know what the outside of my current building looks like.
What would be better would be photos of your potential neighbors, so you could know if you'd be surrounded by lunacy or not.
Or, better yet, photos of the actual apartment without the aid of a wide angle lens! And if that's too difficult, perhaps there could be actual words describing WHAT THE APARTMENT IS LIKE. Perhaps a mention of square footage? Closets? Floors? Location? Exposed brick please please please?
This apartment will not disappoint visiting parents!
This apartment has enough space for you to store more than five pairs of shoes!
This apartment has enough counter space to cut one vegetable at a time!
You can have two of your closest friends over in this apartment!
You will be able to steal wireless internet in one corner of this unit!
You will be able to shave your legs without having to be a contortionist!
I want to move, but I'm not looking forward to another round of showers in the kitchen and frantically trying to sell everything I own so as to be able to fit a bed and multiple dressers and a piano and gear and someday his bikes and his cycling accessories and his paintings and when I think of these things I think that NJ sounds really attractive.
I decided to look at apartment listings today, just for kicks. Park Slope, Astoria, anywhere where there isn't a gas station and where there is some sense of neighborhood.
Rental rates in and around the city have apparently increased drastically since I got my apartment a year ago. I can't believe how much studios are! And I don't even want a studio! I (we?) need at least a 1 br, with a closet or two, please.
I am surprised by the lack of photos accompanying postings.
I am also surprised that when there is a photo accompanying a posting, it is most likely a picture of the outside of the building in which your 120 square foot apartment will be found. As if people in NYC care what the outside of their building looks like! I'm not sure that I even know what the outside of my current building looks like.
What would be better would be photos of your potential neighbors, so you could know if you'd be surrounded by lunacy or not.
Or, better yet, photos of the actual apartment without the aid of a wide angle lens! And if that's too difficult, perhaps there could be actual words describing WHAT THE APARTMENT IS LIKE. Perhaps a mention of square footage? Closets? Floors? Location? Exposed brick please please please?
This apartment will not disappoint visiting parents!
This apartment has enough space for you to store more than five pairs of shoes!
This apartment has enough counter space to cut one vegetable at a time!
You can have two of your closest friends over in this apartment!
You will be able to steal wireless internet in one corner of this unit!
You will be able to shave your legs without having to be a contortionist!
I want to move, but I'm not looking forward to another round of showers in the kitchen and frantically trying to sell everything I own so as to be able to fit a bed and multiple dressers and a piano and gear and someday his bikes and his cycling accessories and his paintings and when I think of these things I think that NJ sounds really attractive.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
On Hold
Oh my god. I have been on hold for 23 minutes waiting to see if the accursed fondue set has shipped. I want to know if it's on it's way. I want to be excited if it is. It's not like there's anything I can do if it hasn't been shipped, but I just need to know.
I know, I know, all of your agents are busy serving other customers! I KNOW!
Now that I have decided to stay in New York City, I am trying to figure out ways to guarantee my sanity. Basically, I want to stop being a New Yorker.
This place changes a person. I'm more uptight, stressed, frantic, unnerved, and suspicious than I was in Boston. I'm more judgmental. I'm more jaded, if that is even possible!
I need these things to go away in order for me to be a sane, productive, happy person.
Some things that I will do to be sane:
1. Blog while on hold.
2. Be better about keeping up with phone calls. I spent two hours on the phone with Mother last night and then another house on the phone with M. It was delightful to talk to both of them. Mother and I had profound discussions about parents and parenting style and The Depression and philosophy and happiness and not judging other people even though you just want them to be happy. M and I laughed about wedding insanity.
3. Avoid things that stress me out. For example, attempt to commute at non-peak times when possible. Avoid areas with high tourist concentration. Avoid restaurants in which snotty people eat.
4. Stop reading listings so as not to feel like I have to do everything.
5. Stop feeling guilty about not reading things like The New Yorker, The Onion, and other publications with information that I feel like I have to know just because other people do. Admit that I do not care about these things and that life is not necessarily better when there is more information in it. Realize that people will not think less of me if I am not on top of every type of media. Realize that these people are wasting their time reading things that do not actually enrich the quality of life. Realize there are other ways to be smart that don't involve being a master of trivia.
6. Stop comparing myself to other people. Live life like I used to. Do not feel pressured to be into art, music, fashion, politics, policies, etc. just because others are.
7. Play more piano. Practice. Record more songs. Make time for this.
8. Sign up for photography class (es).
9. Buy exercise videos. Abominable, yes, but cheaper than gym. Realize that flatter stomach will not lead to higher quality of life BUT will allow consumption of more cookie and ice cream products.
10. Move out of the city, preferably to area that permits regular sleep and does not carry with it the constant threat of fire/explosion.
11. Read more fiction. Do not feel guilty about reading fiction.
12. Watch more movies at home.
13. Avoid shopping when possible.
(Oh my god. It's been another 15 minutes on hold!)
(Oh my god again! Just as I wrote that, the woman got on the phone and said "The item you ordered has been discontinued!" Oh my god! When were they going to tell me this? I ordered it two weeks ago! Were they going to call? Or were they just waiting for me to call them? Bastards! This is my New York self rearing its ugly head. This is only a problem because I live in NYC, where I do not know where to even purchase a fondue pot, and even if I did, there would not be time to buy one and even if there was it would not be affordable! NO! No no no no no. NO!!!)
14. Avoid talking to customer service people when possible.
15. Do not have overambitious plans regarding birthday presents.
16. Do not have aspirations to actually be adequate girlfriend to superhuman boyfriend.
17. Do not shop. Ever.
18. Do not go to doctor's appointments. Ever. This will only result in evil treatment by others, wasting of insane amounts of time, and gigantic medical bills that your insurance will not cover.
19. Do not interact with people unless it is absolutely necessary.
20. Hang out with like-minded people so as not to feel inferior, stupid, ugly, poorly dressed, non-creative etc. Oh how I miss my Boston friends who were normal, reasonable, nice, wonderful, dependable, sweet, devoted, rational, deep, real people who possess the ability to discuss their feelings and fears and lives instead of hiding behind Pitchfork's latest review.
Ummmmmm.
Right.
I started this entry off in such a good mood and the blue, minimalist, tiny, perfect fondue set has ruined everything. I devoted 10 hours of my life to searching for this thing and it all turned out to be a lie. They never even had it to begin with! I am so disappointed.
Everything in this city is a project. Everything you do here requires 10x more effort than it does in normal places. You can't just go to one place to buy your groceries. No. You have to go to three different places to get 3/4 of your list, and you just give up on the rest of it. There are no gnocchi in this damn city, and I can't even make them myself because I don't have counter space.
OK. I'm done.
I am going to look for fondue sets in the city.
Until tomorrow...
I know, I know, all of your agents are busy serving other customers! I KNOW!
Now that I have decided to stay in New York City, I am trying to figure out ways to guarantee my sanity. Basically, I want to stop being a New Yorker.
This place changes a person. I'm more uptight, stressed, frantic, unnerved, and suspicious than I was in Boston. I'm more judgmental. I'm more jaded, if that is even possible!
I need these things to go away in order for me to be a sane, productive, happy person.
Some things that I will do to be sane:
1. Blog while on hold.
2. Be better about keeping up with phone calls. I spent two hours on the phone with Mother last night and then another house on the phone with M. It was delightful to talk to both of them. Mother and I had profound discussions about parents and parenting style and The Depression and philosophy and happiness and not judging other people even though you just want them to be happy. M and I laughed about wedding insanity.
3. Avoid things that stress me out. For example, attempt to commute at non-peak times when possible. Avoid areas with high tourist concentration. Avoid restaurants in which snotty people eat.
4. Stop reading listings so as not to feel like I have to do everything.
5. Stop feeling guilty about not reading things like The New Yorker, The Onion, and other publications with information that I feel like I have to know just because other people do. Admit that I do not care about these things and that life is not necessarily better when there is more information in it. Realize that people will not think less of me if I am not on top of every type of media. Realize that these people are wasting their time reading things that do not actually enrich the quality of life. Realize there are other ways to be smart that don't involve being a master of trivia.
6. Stop comparing myself to other people. Live life like I used to. Do not feel pressured to be into art, music, fashion, politics, policies, etc. just because others are.
7. Play more piano. Practice. Record more songs. Make time for this.
8. Sign up for photography class (es).
9. Buy exercise videos. Abominable, yes, but cheaper than gym. Realize that flatter stomach will not lead to higher quality of life BUT will allow consumption of more cookie and ice cream products.
10. Move out of the city, preferably to area that permits regular sleep and does not carry with it the constant threat of fire/explosion.
11. Read more fiction. Do not feel guilty about reading fiction.
12. Watch more movies at home.
13. Avoid shopping when possible.
(Oh my god. It's been another 15 minutes on hold!)
(Oh my god again! Just as I wrote that, the woman got on the phone and said "The item you ordered has been discontinued!" Oh my god! When were they going to tell me this? I ordered it two weeks ago! Were they going to call? Or were they just waiting for me to call them? Bastards! This is my New York self rearing its ugly head. This is only a problem because I live in NYC, where I do not know where to even purchase a fondue pot, and even if I did, there would not be time to buy one and even if there was it would not be affordable! NO! No no no no no. NO!!!)
14. Avoid talking to customer service people when possible.
15. Do not have overambitious plans regarding birthday presents.
16. Do not have aspirations to actually be adequate girlfriend to superhuman boyfriend.
17. Do not shop. Ever.
18. Do not go to doctor's appointments. Ever. This will only result in evil treatment by others, wasting of insane amounts of time, and gigantic medical bills that your insurance will not cover.
19. Do not interact with people unless it is absolutely necessary.
20. Hang out with like-minded people so as not to feel inferior, stupid, ugly, poorly dressed, non-creative etc. Oh how I miss my Boston friends who were normal, reasonable, nice, wonderful, dependable, sweet, devoted, rational, deep, real people who possess the ability to discuss their feelings and fears and lives instead of hiding behind Pitchfork's latest review.
Ummmmmm.
Right.
I started this entry off in such a good mood and the blue, minimalist, tiny, perfect fondue set has ruined everything. I devoted 10 hours of my life to searching for this thing and it all turned out to be a lie. They never even had it to begin with! I am so disappointed.
Everything in this city is a project. Everything you do here requires 10x more effort than it does in normal places. You can't just go to one place to buy your groceries. No. You have to go to three different places to get 3/4 of your list, and you just give up on the rest of it. There are no gnocchi in this damn city, and I can't even make them myself because I don't have counter space.
OK. I'm done.
I am going to look for fondue sets in the city.
Until tomorrow...
Monday, March 27, 2006
20 Wonderful (Unexpected) Things From the Weekend
1. "How to Hypnotize a Girl Into Sleeping With You" video in Found Footage Festival
2. Possible new friend post-Found who likes pickles!
3. Wonderously funny chemsitry of strangers post-Found and resultant feelings of comfort and belonging and finally, finally, finally thinking that everything WILL turn out just rosey
4. Another newish friend saying she's relieved and glad that I have decided to stay in NYC
5. Easy shopping and cheap half-sweater-y item for wedding
6. Spontaneous snack date (churros! flan! milk cake!) with LL
7. D calling just to say "hi"
8. Wheeling around little wine cart in fancy wine store and resultant feeling of being a giant (and then nostalgia for Boston Children's Museum induced by prancing around wine store - remember the fake child-sized grocery store? you'd blissfully run around and pretend to buy groceries? or, in this case, run around pretending to know anything about wine with your miniature cart?)
9. D wearing a sweater
10. D's fabulous cousin and her fabulous cousin and her cousin's fabulous husband (more new people!) taking us out for dinner
11. Olive oil flavored gelato
12. Making up rules, later determined to be completely incorrect, to shovel board (and more new people!)
13. Norah Jones playing guitar incognito
14. Getting home early but staying up late
15. Having enough time to make my hair look good, two days in a row!
16. Tarentella!
17. Moustaches!!
18. Meeting another scientist (and another new friend with whom we are having diner soon!) from NYC! C'est impossible!
19. Dessert spread involving 15 different flavors of cake (one with canolis ON THE CAKE), cheese, fruit, jello, pastries, cookies, chocolate fondue, ice cream sundae bar, make your own sno cones, cotton candy and popcorn
20. Getting a ride home
2. Possible new friend post-Found who likes pickles!
3. Wonderously funny chemsitry of strangers post-Found and resultant feelings of comfort and belonging and finally, finally, finally thinking that everything WILL turn out just rosey
4. Another newish friend saying she's relieved and glad that I have decided to stay in NYC
5. Easy shopping and cheap half-sweater-y item for wedding
6. Spontaneous snack date (churros! flan! milk cake!) with LL
7. D calling just to say "hi"
8. Wheeling around little wine cart in fancy wine store and resultant feeling of being a giant (and then nostalgia for Boston Children's Museum induced by prancing around wine store - remember the fake child-sized grocery store? you'd blissfully run around and pretend to buy groceries? or, in this case, run around pretending to know anything about wine with your miniature cart?)
9. D wearing a sweater
10. D's fabulous cousin and her fabulous cousin and her cousin's fabulous husband (more new people!) taking us out for dinner
11. Olive oil flavored gelato
12. Making up rules, later determined to be completely incorrect, to shovel board (and more new people!)
13. Norah Jones playing guitar incognito
14. Getting home early but staying up late
15. Having enough time to make my hair look good, two days in a row!
16. Tarentella!
17. Moustaches!!
18. Meeting another scientist (and another new friend with whom we are having diner soon!) from NYC! C'est impossible!
19. Dessert spread involving 15 different flavors of cake (one with canolis ON THE CAKE), cheese, fruit, jello, pastries, cookies, chocolate fondue, ice cream sundae bar, make your own sno cones, cotton candy and popcorn
20. Getting a ride home
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Mr. Darcy
I shall be extremely delighted to discuss the virtous nature of the British miniseries version of Pride and Prejudice.
I had occasion to view the Keira Knightley version in theaters earlier this year. While I am not a fan of Keira and her little mouth and flat but perky cheek bones, I really enjoyed the movie, because girls are genetically predisposed to adore Pride and Prejudice.
This is because all women identify with Elizabeth Bennet, a woman who, while not the prettiest, possesses other virtues including the ability to comprehend books and converse while taking a turn about the room.
More importantly, all women want their non-obvious and rarely-recognized virtues to result in the obsessive and debilitating adoration of one handsome, brooding, and rich stranger, who silently falls in love with her. They also want the normally confident stranger to articulate his affection for her in an insecure but tender fashion, wherein he declares that he cannot stand being apart from her for any longer and that he wants nothing else but to love her with unending devotion for eternity.
Jane Austen shows us how romance can be.
I digress...
Overall I like the most recent version better, but I have two words: Colin Firth. Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy ruins things for woman-kind.
Every time he was on-screen I gasped. I, like Eliza Bennet, looked forward to seeing him, and was much distressed by his being away.
Girls, if you ever have slightly less than 6 hours to spare, you must watch it.
I want so much to gush endlessly about Colin Firth but I will not, as I have other things to tend to such as a doctor's appointment, lunch, fretting about stupid new health insurance that seems to have caused a slight accumulation in bills at a time when I really can't be spending money, lamenting not being able to go to the bowling world championship, performing damage-control on D's new haircut (more later), and staring at my face in fabulous new glasses in any possible reflective surface.
I had occasion to view the Keira Knightley version in theaters earlier this year. While I am not a fan of Keira and her little mouth and flat but perky cheek bones, I really enjoyed the movie, because girls are genetically predisposed to adore Pride and Prejudice.
This is because all women identify with Elizabeth Bennet, a woman who, while not the prettiest, possesses other virtues including the ability to comprehend books and converse while taking a turn about the room.
More importantly, all women want their non-obvious and rarely-recognized virtues to result in the obsessive and debilitating adoration of one handsome, brooding, and rich stranger, who silently falls in love with her. They also want the normally confident stranger to articulate his affection for her in an insecure but tender fashion, wherein he declares that he cannot stand being apart from her for any longer and that he wants nothing else but to love her with unending devotion for eternity.
Jane Austen shows us how romance can be.
I digress...
Overall I like the most recent version better, but I have two words: Colin Firth. Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy ruins things for woman-kind.
Every time he was on-screen I gasped. I, like Eliza Bennet, looked forward to seeing him, and was much distressed by his being away.
Girls, if you ever have slightly less than 6 hours to spare, you must watch it.
I want so much to gush endlessly about Colin Firth but I will not, as I have other things to tend to such as a doctor's appointment, lunch, fretting about stupid new health insurance that seems to have caused a slight accumulation in bills at a time when I really can't be spending money, lamenting not being able to go to the bowling world championship, performing damage-control on D's new haircut (more later), and staring at my face in fabulous new glasses in any possible reflective surface.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Hockey
This past weekend was nice, aside from the three episodes of crying.
After Round 1 of Shopping for the dress for the last-minute wedding (during which I wished for a different job or body so as to be able to wear delicious clothes from SoHo, although I did buy an amazing coat marked down from $148 to $38 - yeah!), I decided that I needed to have a calm conversation with D about some things that have been bothering me. The things were not new, but hadn't been articulated as well as they should have been. The things were fresh after I was being tortured by last-minute shopping for his last-minute wedding invite while D went to the gym and frolicked and enjoyed free time. He'd planned to go to the movies by himself, but I wanted to talk to him before he left as I was afraid lunacy would prevail through the weekend if I didn't voice my concerns.
It started off the normal way - defensive, angry, etc. that causes me to cry etc. - but resulted in D turning into Super Boyfriend. It's as though the relationship has been completely transformed! He implicated my suggestions by Saturday afternoon. I was flabbergasted. He even suggested going out for dinner on Saturday night to "follow up on" what had been discussed the previous night. Miraculous! And the good news is that the wonderful, nice, supportive, normal-boyfriend things have continued into the week. Weee!
I spent Saturday morning still feeling a bit beat down by our conversation. I wasn't sure how we left things, I wasn't sure where his head was, and was therefore fantasizing about moving out of NYC even before I talked to R who told me he is definitely moving out west by the summer. Sniff.
I met PW by the fountain. He'd procured sweet free seats to the New York Philharmonic. We were seated in the row behind his coworker, whose real name is the fake name that I use for various things I sign up for! I said "Your name is my alias!" and I think I scared her. Seeing PW is always a treat. My mood was much improved, especially after eating cherry pie.
Round 2 of shopping followed, this time at Macy's where the accursed One Day Sale was happening. The horror, the horror. Normally the Macy's in Herald Square is manageable, but on Saturday night it was gridlock. I tried on a couple of things but didn't want to wait in line to buy them.
At home I talked to D, who was being Super Boyfriend and trying to include me in the planmaking instead of just declaring what was going on. He suggested dinner, but the plan ultimately didn't allow for any time for the two of us. We met up at his friend T's show (where we were all cute and not at all awkward), and then went out for scrumptious vegetarian dinner with our friend T and her friend G.
We spent the entirety of Sunday together (yay! we are a good couple! yay!), during which D, as promised, accompanied me on Round 3 of Shopping for the Last-Minute wedding. We devoured a huge brunch Chez Leah Lar, and then hit Bleecker Street.
I bought a dress that I thought I loved. Relieved that I only had to go into four stores before finding it, and therefore faced with a ton of extra time, D and I went back to his apartment, re-grouped, and then met up with R at the Donut Plant to reward our shopping efforts. D and I then went to see Brokeback Mountain (my second time - I cried even more this time!) and then back to my apartment for a fashion show and dinner.
At my apartment was shoe-throwing and wanting to tear clothes to shreds and being disappointed in myself and wondering how could I be so irresponsible? And "This is inappropriate for a mysterious Sunday afternoon wedding!" And "I am not spending any more money on this wedding - I will not buy other shoes and other accessories when I've already spent so much!" And "This sort of thing can't happen because of going back to school and $800 a class! and going on the trip for your birthday in two weeks! and and and it's such a pain to live in this ridiculous city and you don't have to worry about this sort of thing in Boston and I am such an idiot and I don't want anything else from that obnoxious store and I can't believe I did this because I want to look pretty who do I think I am going over my dress budget like that when classes and trips and rent and bills?"
Thankfully, the Friday evening conversation with D made everything fine, because he was perfect. I don't think I'd ever cried about anything non-relationship-related in front of him before. He was awesome and did everything right. He let me cry instead of explaining to me why I was being ridiculous and how a perfect person should be, and tried to (successfully) cheer me up only when I was finished acting mental. I don't think I've ever felt more loved, and that's what I'd hoped to accomplish by talking about things on Friday.
Ah, communication.
I calmed down, we danced like idiots, I cooked dinner, we tried to watch this lame movie called World, and then read and continued to enjoy each other's company even though we'd been together for over 24 hours.
Work has been stressful, uncertainty aside. I had to throw together a presentation yesterday with only a few hour's notice. I decided to make it funny to help myself get through it, and it was met with much laughter and clapping. I wish I could make funny powerpoint presentations as a job.
I went to my first-ever hockey game last night!!!! The Boss, a season-ticket holder, gave me two tickets to see The Rangers play The Bruins as a Christmas gift. D and I, both completely ignorant hockey viewers, had a great time.
Neither of us had any idea what was going on - we could follow the game but didn't understand any of the penalties, didn't understand why people boo-ed when they did, didn't understand why the players and refs were unphased by dropped and broken sticks. There was one awesome fight. I wondered if a ref had ever been killed in the line of duty. The Bruins got demolished. I pretended not to care so as not to ignite the anger of any crazed Rangers fans.
The best thing about the game, though, was the email that The Boss sent me yesterday afternoon. It was a hockey cheat-sheet with information about some of the most common penalties (fouls?) as well as some pointers for enjoying the game.
For example:
"So and so, #X, skates really fast."
"You can't get a puck away from so and so."
"So and so, who used to play for The Rangers and was adored by New York fans, now plays for The Bruins."
I think I may be a hockey fan.
After Round 1 of Shopping for the dress for the last-minute wedding (during which I wished for a different job or body so as to be able to wear delicious clothes from SoHo, although I did buy an amazing coat marked down from $148 to $38 - yeah!), I decided that I needed to have a calm conversation with D about some things that have been bothering me. The things were not new, but hadn't been articulated as well as they should have been. The things were fresh after I was being tortured by last-minute shopping for his last-minute wedding invite while D went to the gym and frolicked and enjoyed free time. He'd planned to go to the movies by himself, but I wanted to talk to him before he left as I was afraid lunacy would prevail through the weekend if I didn't voice my concerns.
It started off the normal way - defensive, angry, etc. that causes me to cry etc. - but resulted in D turning into Super Boyfriend. It's as though the relationship has been completely transformed! He implicated my suggestions by Saturday afternoon. I was flabbergasted. He even suggested going out for dinner on Saturday night to "follow up on" what had been discussed the previous night. Miraculous! And the good news is that the wonderful, nice, supportive, normal-boyfriend things have continued into the week. Weee!
I spent Saturday morning still feeling a bit beat down by our conversation. I wasn't sure how we left things, I wasn't sure where his head was, and was therefore fantasizing about moving out of NYC even before I talked to R who told me he is definitely moving out west by the summer. Sniff.
I met PW by the fountain. He'd procured sweet free seats to the New York Philharmonic. We were seated in the row behind his coworker, whose real name is the fake name that I use for various things I sign up for! I said "Your name is my alias!" and I think I scared her. Seeing PW is always a treat. My mood was much improved, especially after eating cherry pie.
Round 2 of shopping followed, this time at Macy's where the accursed One Day Sale was happening. The horror, the horror. Normally the Macy's in Herald Square is manageable, but on Saturday night it was gridlock. I tried on a couple of things but didn't want to wait in line to buy them.
At home I talked to D, who was being Super Boyfriend and trying to include me in the planmaking instead of just declaring what was going on. He suggested dinner, but the plan ultimately didn't allow for any time for the two of us. We met up at his friend T's show (where we were all cute and not at all awkward), and then went out for scrumptious vegetarian dinner with our friend T and her friend G.
We spent the entirety of Sunday together (yay! we are a good couple! yay!), during which D, as promised, accompanied me on Round 3 of Shopping for the Last-Minute wedding. We devoured a huge brunch Chez Leah Lar, and then hit Bleecker Street.
I bought a dress that I thought I loved. Relieved that I only had to go into four stores before finding it, and therefore faced with a ton of extra time, D and I went back to his apartment, re-grouped, and then met up with R at the Donut Plant to reward our shopping efforts. D and I then went to see Brokeback Mountain (my second time - I cried even more this time!) and then back to my apartment for a fashion show and dinner.
At my apartment was shoe-throwing and wanting to tear clothes to shreds and being disappointed in myself and wondering how could I be so irresponsible? And "This is inappropriate for a mysterious Sunday afternoon wedding!" And "I am not spending any more money on this wedding - I will not buy other shoes and other accessories when I've already spent so much!" And "This sort of thing can't happen because of going back to school and $800 a class! and going on the trip for your birthday in two weeks! and and and it's such a pain to live in this ridiculous city and you don't have to worry about this sort of thing in Boston and I am such an idiot and I don't want anything else from that obnoxious store and I can't believe I did this because I want to look pretty who do I think I am going over my dress budget like that when classes and trips and rent and bills?"
Thankfully, the Friday evening conversation with D made everything fine, because he was perfect. I don't think I'd ever cried about anything non-relationship-related in front of him before. He was awesome and did everything right. He let me cry instead of explaining to me why I was being ridiculous and how a perfect person should be, and tried to (successfully) cheer me up only when I was finished acting mental. I don't think I've ever felt more loved, and that's what I'd hoped to accomplish by talking about things on Friday.
Ah, communication.
I calmed down, we danced like idiots, I cooked dinner, we tried to watch this lame movie called World, and then read and continued to enjoy each other's company even though we'd been together for over 24 hours.
Work has been stressful, uncertainty aside. I had to throw together a presentation yesterday with only a few hour's notice. I decided to make it funny to help myself get through it, and it was met with much laughter and clapping. I wish I could make funny powerpoint presentations as a job.
I went to my first-ever hockey game last night!!!! The Boss, a season-ticket holder, gave me two tickets to see The Rangers play The Bruins as a Christmas gift. D and I, both completely ignorant hockey viewers, had a great time.
Neither of us had any idea what was going on - we could follow the game but didn't understand any of the penalties, didn't understand why people boo-ed when they did, didn't understand why the players and refs were unphased by dropped and broken sticks. There was one awesome fight. I wondered if a ref had ever been killed in the line of duty. The Bruins got demolished. I pretended not to care so as not to ignite the anger of any crazed Rangers fans.
The best thing about the game, though, was the email that The Boss sent me yesterday afternoon. It was a hockey cheat-sheet with information about some of the most common penalties (fouls?) as well as some pointers for enjoying the game.
For example:
"So and so, #X, skates really fast."
"You can't get a puck away from so and so."
"So and so, who used to play for The Rangers and was adored by New York fans, now plays for The Bruins."
I think I may be a hockey fan.
Monday, March 20, 2006
Does This Seem Illegal?
Say, for example, a person suffers from buyer's remorse and wants to return something to a store that issues only exchanges or store credits. In this scenario, the person doesn't really want anything else from the store.
Since the credit is for a lot of money, is it illegal (or morally questionable) to:
Post an ad online that says "If you shop at X, I will meet you there and buy your items in the amount of $X in exchange for $X-40 in cash."
This way, a person would only be out $X-40 instead of $X, and the person who responded to the ad would be making $40. It's like giving away money. The only person who loses is the person who placed the ad, but that person is going to lose anyway because if they don't place the ad, they will be stuck taking, because of the credit, overly priced pants and belts and possibly shoes that they don't really want in a self-financed shopping spree at a place they don't really like because of overly aggressive obnoxious salespeople that brainwash shoppers into buying things that they don't really want for insane amounts of money.
For example.
Since the credit is for a lot of money, is it illegal (or morally questionable) to:
Post an ad online that says "If you shop at X, I will meet you there and buy your items in the amount of $X in exchange for $X-40 in cash."
This way, a person would only be out $X-40 instead of $X, and the person who responded to the ad would be making $40. It's like giving away money. The only person who loses is the person who placed the ad, but that person is going to lose anyway because if they don't place the ad, they will be stuck taking, because of the credit, overly priced pants and belts and possibly shoes that they don't really want in a self-financed shopping spree at a place they don't really like because of overly aggressive obnoxious salespeople that brainwash shoppers into buying things that they don't really want for insane amounts of money.
For example.
Friday, March 17, 2006
Templeton
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!
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!
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.
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Chicago - Day 3
Woke up and ooh-ed and ahhh-ed over the city again:
After eating lunch, I decided to take some photos of this construction site across from our hotel:
The pictures, unfortunately, don't do justice to the colors.
D later found out that its going to be a Trump building, so now I'm not as excited. Oh well.
We then headed over to see The Bean, a mirrored sculpture in Millennium Park.
There was a cool amphitheater there that we checked out first:
There were also lovely, clean bubblers (I haven't said that in forever!):
Here's The Bean:
The Bean rules. You can see the entire city in it.
I have a billion pictures of us looking at ourselves in The Bean. When you get close to it, it just seems like a regular mirror. It is as though its not curved.
After The Bean, we tried to go to the Chicago Cultural Center.
It was, of course, closed. Some local city holiday.
We decided to go to the Marshall Field's to warm up.
It's way better than the Macy's in Herald Square. I never would have thought it possible.
We walked around the city a bit more.
We walked to the river.
We ended up at Union Station, as D is a lover of train stations.
We grabbed a cab back to the hotel, picked up our bags, took the train back to the airport and were in NYC a few hours later.
The minute we arrived at Penn Station we were saddened by the ugliness. I guess Chicago is sterile, but it is also beautiful. It is planned. It is vast. The streets are wide, the terrain is flat, you can appreciate the city as a whole from wherever you are standing. The beauty of New York if often obscured by its thin streets and tall facades. To truly appreciate New York you have to look at it from the sky or from New Jersey. Or maybe you just have to be a tourist.
After eating lunch, I decided to take some photos of this construction site across from our hotel:
The pictures, unfortunately, don't do justice to the colors.
D later found out that its going to be a Trump building, so now I'm not as excited. Oh well.
We then headed over to see The Bean, a mirrored sculpture in Millennium Park.
There was a cool amphitheater there that we checked out first:
There were also lovely, clean bubblers (I haven't said that in forever!):
Here's The Bean:
The Bean rules. You can see the entire city in it.
I have a billion pictures of us looking at ourselves in The Bean. When you get close to it, it just seems like a regular mirror. It is as though its not curved.
After The Bean, we tried to go to the Chicago Cultural Center.
It was, of course, closed. Some local city holiday.
We decided to go to the Marshall Field's to warm up.
It's way better than the Macy's in Herald Square. I never would have thought it possible.
We walked around the city a bit more.
We walked to the river.
We ended up at Union Station, as D is a lover of train stations.
We grabbed a cab back to the hotel, picked up our bags, took the train back to the airport and were in NYC a few hours later.
The minute we arrived at Penn Station we were saddened by the ugliness. I guess Chicago is sterile, but it is also beautiful. It is planned. It is vast. The streets are wide, the terrain is flat, you can appreciate the city as a whole from wherever you are standing. The beauty of New York if often obscured by its thin streets and tall facades. To truly appreciate New York you have to look at it from the sky or from New Jersey. Or maybe you just have to be a tourist.
Chicago - Day 2
We awoke on Day 2 to overcast skies. D watched the weather and said "It's going to snow." "When?" "I don't know. Tonight. Later."
I decided not to believe him, so wore snow-appropriate shoes (be proud, readers) and tights and over-the-knee nearly thigh-high socks and three layers of shirt.
It so snowed the second we left the hotel.
Reason #3 That Chicago Is Best: The architecture. ZOWIE. Everything there is so new, sparkly, well-spaced, well-crafted. Delicious.
Here are my favorite buildings again:
And again:
We headed to Wicker Park, the hipster-central of Chicago, where we wanted to eat at this cool place that seemed very vegetarian-friendly, funky, trendy, etc. I also wanted to go to this place called Eye Want to buy hopefully cheap frames. There was an hour and a half wait at the diner. Eye Want was closed. Hmph.
We ended up eating at this REALLY cool and REALLY cheap place down the street from our original destination. I had huevos rancheros with chips! Yeah! Then D and I split a breakfast rice pudding thing with cinammon and every imagineable fruit.
We split up because D wanted to go to a record store. I wandered through the snow and drooled over Fluevogs I will never have.
We then took the train to the Intuit Museum.
It was, of course, closed.
We hopped a bus to the Museum of Contemporary Art.
This was in the lobby:
(Maurizio Cattelan)
Amazing.
The whole museum was wonderful. Perfect size. Perfect way to enjoy a snow day.
Here is a photo of footprints in the snow, taken from the museum. So cute.
We checked out a little Chicago-themed photo exhibit in this cute building (waterworks?) after the museum, then headed back in the direction of the hotel. We stopped by this candy shop, which was the shop that supplied the candy for The Oscars:
We then stopped by Walgreen's and then a little market to buy wine and cheese and snacks for the Oscar marathon viewing.
Back at the hotel, we ordered food and then couldn't open the stupid wine with the stupid $1.59 corkscrew we bought at the market because the cork was one of those lame plastic corks. Ergh. D ended up having to bring the bottle down to the lobby to ask for help. The horror.
We drank the wine and ate too much and passed out right after The Oscars.
I decided not to believe him, so wore snow-appropriate shoes (be proud, readers) and tights and over-the-knee nearly thigh-high socks and three layers of shirt.
It so snowed the second we left the hotel.
Reason #3 That Chicago Is Best: The architecture. ZOWIE. Everything there is so new, sparkly, well-spaced, well-crafted. Delicious.
Here are my favorite buildings again:
And again:
We headed to Wicker Park, the hipster-central of Chicago, where we wanted to eat at this cool place that seemed very vegetarian-friendly, funky, trendy, etc. I also wanted to go to this place called Eye Want to buy hopefully cheap frames. There was an hour and a half wait at the diner. Eye Want was closed. Hmph.
We ended up eating at this REALLY cool and REALLY cheap place down the street from our original destination. I had huevos rancheros with chips! Yeah! Then D and I split a breakfast rice pudding thing with cinammon and every imagineable fruit.
We split up because D wanted to go to a record store. I wandered through the snow and drooled over Fluevogs I will never have.
We then took the train to the Intuit Museum.
It was, of course, closed.
We hopped a bus to the Museum of Contemporary Art.
This was in the lobby:
(Maurizio Cattelan)
Amazing.
The whole museum was wonderful. Perfect size. Perfect way to enjoy a snow day.
Here is a photo of footprints in the snow, taken from the museum. So cute.
We checked out a little Chicago-themed photo exhibit in this cute building (waterworks?) after the museum, then headed back in the direction of the hotel. We stopped by this candy shop, which was the shop that supplied the candy for The Oscars:
We then stopped by Walgreen's and then a little market to buy wine and cheese and snacks for the Oscar marathon viewing.
Back at the hotel, we ordered food and then couldn't open the stupid wine with the stupid $1.59 corkscrew we bought at the market because the cork was one of those lame plastic corks. Ergh. D ended up having to bring the bottle down to the lobby to ask for help. The horror.
We drank the wine and ate too much and passed out right after The Oscars.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
