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January 31, 2006

I Toats Know How to Quit You. Toats.

The Academy Award nominations are in and Brokeback Mountain is leading the pack with 8 nominations. I mean, it was a good movie and all, but as I’ve discussed with some of you, I think it has been very overhyped. I guess because it’s well-known actors playing gay? It was a pretty movie, I guess...long, lingering looks at mountains and hills and sheep. Nothing was golden or warm though. It was kind of damp, no? And I am quite sure that the original short story by one of my favorite writers in the world, Annie Proulx, was much more dimensional, quirky and nuanced. As for the performances, I think they were excellent, but not “LEGENDARY” as I’ve heard them described. I do think that Jake Gyllenhaal is kind of getting the shaft (no pun intended) at all of the awards shows. How come he is the supporting actor and Heath is the lead? If anything, I thought Jake’s performance was much better than Heath’s. I mean, Ledger warbled and mumbled and sulked through the whole thing and I really didn’t believe he was gay. Jake’s range of emotion, on the other hand, with just one look was amazing and I believed everything about his character. And that scene at the very end…I won’t spoil it if you haven’t seen it, but Jake gets major props from me. I haven’t seen a few of the other nominated films but I do think Philip Seymour Hoffman and Catherine Keener were brilliant in Capote, so those are my faves, for now. While we are on the subject of entertainment, did you hear that they are taking that Geena Davis show, Commander-in-Chief off the air? Apparently the viewership for the show dropped by millions after the holidays. Bizarre. Poor Geena. But they aren’t canceling it, so you never know what’ll happen. Apparently they had replaced creator, Rod Lurie, with that dude Steven Bochco, who will always be the guy who created that Cop Rock show to me no matter how many legit things he does. Anyway, they “tweaked” the characters and, oops, they lost their audience. Why do network heads always feel like they have to fix shit that isn’t broken? Just let it marinate and promote it properly. They abandon shows, stick them in horrible time slots and then pretend they were never behind them to begin with. I feel bad for Rod Lurie, as he obviously created a show that resonated and ABC effed it all up. Oh well. I didn’t watch the show so I don’t know why I am getting so fired up. Let's talk about more important things, like Dana's baby! Apparently, Dana and Seth had an appointment to find out the sex of the baby but little Rosencrance was hiding the goods. It is obviously going to be a very modest child. In addition to the downward dog and warrior poses that 'lil R was doing, he/she was sucking his/her thumb. I'm going to have to have a talk with the kid about that right away as soon as he/she makes an appearance. I have opinions. What else is new? Have a nice Tuesday, people.

January 30, 2006

Saving the Princess

Holy crap, January is almost over! Time flies when you are doing nothing specific. So how about this damn weather? Anyone else waiting for the earth's core to spew up onto the surface? The weekend was decent, I guess. Friday night I met up with the photographer I am doing some copy work for. She served me white wine so I was on another planet for a few hours. (I CANNOT drink white wine, it's like LSD for me. Not that I've done LSD, but whatever.) Afterwards, I met Tim and Vicky and we went to Sweet and Viciousand later, Vig Bar. (FYI - we are soooo hitting Vig Bar a Friday night sometime soon. It's tiny, but if you find the right spot in the back, you can observe hedonism at its finest, while dancing to one of the more eclectic music mixes in the city. Lots of guilty pleasure songs. Good times.) Had brunch with Tim on Saturday at the very fun 9th Street Market in the East Village. We waited a while to get a table, but the "Belt Buster" egg sandwich (my heart aches just thinking about it) and the passion fruit mimosa (now, liver is aching) made it all worthwhile. Stayed in on Saturday night and did laundry - very necessary, as I had started to dip into the Christmas sock pile. You know how you try to clean out your closet and you end up getting rid of nothing because you convince yourself that you are going to need each item for one very specific occasion? In this case, I was right. I remember attempting to get rid of the stupid christmas socks and thinking - well, what if I run out of regular socks...? YOU SEE?! This doesn't bode well for me getting rid of my Charlie's Angels t-shirt, et. al. Oh, I watched the movie A Separate Peace on Saturday night. You know, the one that's based on the John Knowles book. I read that book in 8th grade or something and while I didn't really remember the actual story, I remembered feeling vaguely uneasy the whole time I read the thing back then and felt the same sense of unease while watching the movie. It's such a bizarre study of the fragility of the human psyche and the angst that is married to our self-imposed social hierarchies. I felt equally uncomfortable when I read Lord of the Flies. I guess the discomfort stems from knowing that we are unpredictable animals and could turn on each other at any minute. Yikes. Okay...enough THINKING. It's only Monday. Back to the weekend - went to this bar on Mott St. with Vicky and Paul last night and we played Ms. Pac-Man and Super Mario Bros. 3 because they have a Sega Genesis and a Nintendo. Radical, dude. Radical. Remember that game "Bases Loaded"? They had that. Yeah...great story... Anyway, Vicky was impressing BFF like crazy with her mad skillz and he kept promising her the world if she'd save the princess. She didn't save the chick last night but she will, BFF. She will. Have faith. Happy Moonday.

January 27, 2006

Sorry this entry is boring, but I'm sick...

Today, I am...drum roll please...home sick from work! I can't remember the last time I called in sick to a job. I woke up this a.m., head heavy, body aching (from boxing, really), nose stuffed and glands a bit swollen and thought, "It's Friday...give this shit a rest already." So here I am...off from work, my adorable cat sleeping in front of my computer monitor as I type. Vicky, are you warmed by the thought? Did manage to go to the screening of Imagine Me & Youlast night after standing in a huge line in the freezing cold for an hour (don't ask me why I do these things) and my new favorite is now Lena Headey. Movie was cheesy but really cute. Don't think Cricket would approve, but what can you do? Hung out with Vicky, BFF, Sandy, Jen, Steph and Maceo last night while Jen and Steph put the finishing touches on Jen's new album. Maceo and BFF were as adorable as ever. Ellen, you'll be interested to know that Jenny, Stephan and Mr. Maceo were on stage singing with Bruce Springsteen recently at a tribute to Springsteen's 1982 acoustic album Nebraska. See pictures. Great review here. If you don't know who Jen is, check out her website and listen to some tunes. Her gig schedule is on the site, so next time she plays, go check her out! Tell her I sent you.

January 26, 2006

Well-tailored separates. Hosiery is optional.

Please join me in wishing a Happy Birthday to my cuz, Nicole! Hope you have a good day, lady! I'll be celebrating with you and your buds on February 4th, so...see ya then! How is everyone today? Was very sore from Tuesday's yoga class and my cold was getting progressively worse, but I still went to boxing last night. PAID dearly for my subpar state. Oh. My. God. By the time I got to the medicine ball throwing/push-up drill, I was ready to DIE. Went home, where I managed to BURN chicken broth. You know how people joke about someone not even being able to boil water? Not a joke. Retardo. Attempted spaghetti next, but realized I had gotten lemon herb angel hair pasta and wasn't happy about it. And while we are on the subject, why is it that pasta companies don't package their shit in boxes or bags that can be closed? I mean, I'm not making pasta for 12 people. Put one of those little cereal box closey flap things on there. GOD...how HARD can that be? Cricket called and left a message last night but I was too tired and sick to deal. I guess I have to call her back today. Wahhhhhh. Cold is moving into the chest now...right now....as we speak. Going to try to leave work early today. Supposed to go to a screening of Imagine Me & You later...we'll see if I make it. Ellen brought to my attention a cool article about Vera Wang from this week's New York magazine about how she kinda hates brides. My favorite part of the article: Vera is sitting in in the registry department in where else but Bloomingdale's, and 400 brides-to-be are waiting for her. She's in a holding room...someone asks her if she wants water and she goes: "Do you have any vodka? I mean, there's got to be some vodka somewhere in this store, right? Vodka tonic." Priceless. And now, because it is just so hilarious to me, I will excerpt a portion of a memo received yesterday re: my office dress code:

Well tailored separates including a twin set, sweater, business appropriate blouse or shirt, dress pant, skirt, blazer or other business appropriate jacket. Hosiery is optional.

Causal(sic)/tailored pants excluding denim. Hosiery is optional for women only. Denim jackets. Casual shoes excluding sneakers.

FYI - I don't think you HAVE to wear denim jackets on Fridays, in case that part confused you. I'm sure you can imagine how difficult it is for ME to distinguish between Monday-Thursday and Friday. I mean, the terms business suit and, ooh, it pains me to type these two words, TWIN SET, are very clear cut, but all this talk of appropriate blouses and casual pants and shoes is kind of confusing. What are casual shoes, excluding sneakers? Does that mean Hush Puppies on Friday, Manolo Blahniks on Mon-Thurs? Casual shoes...excluding sneakers. Ponder it...and let me know what you think.

January 25, 2006

Chakra-kahn, Let me rock you.
Let me rock you, Chakra-kahn

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: Yoga isn’t really all that bad after all. In fact, it’s pretty damn cool! I went last night for the first time. Basics class with Jen at Laughing Lotus. At first, I was creeped out because it was everything I had expected – very quiet people slithering around looking dazed…soft pink and green walls…just a general feeling of - did I just step into someone’s acid trip? The girl at the counter was nice. Quite alien-like, but nice. I guess when you are sitting behind a pink desk in a room that is dimly lit all day, you forget about the planet you live on. Okay, I’ll lay off the calm, gentle nature of the yogi people…they were friendly. So we did all the stretching… dogs, cats, lobsters, hearts, warriors—everything was present. Blocks and belts and blankets and lots of talk of Krishna…hmmm, that description sounds a little S&M – well, let your mind take you where it may. It is Wednesday, after all. Jen kept bringing up cows, which I found hilarious, but I don’t think she was trying to make a joke, which I found tragic. Stretching was great, there were other people in there that were as inflexible as I (not the girl next to me, of course…she was so goddamn flexible, she had to pull her hands back up in order to touch her feet) and I really liked all the movement. I had one issue with the whole experience: THE CHANTING. Weird and cultish. I’m sorry, J-Po, but while I am all about getting in touch with my inner Shakira, it’s a tiny bit bizarre. It was all I could do not to laugh, but I kept it together. I’ll try to get over it. AND, a very informed source has told me that there are other places where the chanting is quite limited, so it’s all very promising. So that’s that. I was WIRED last night when I returned from this experience. Ellen can attest to this. Not sure if it was from the yoga itself or the coffee my mouth wanted afterwards. Yes, I know…not very healthy…whatever. Went to bed at 3:30am and then was up at 7am – WIRED, again. WTF? Obviously my body is like, DUDE, what is UP with the EXERCISE? I’ll probably crash at about 2pm today. But later – BOXING again! All of this is very fun! Makes me wish I lived in the 19th century and all I was expected to do was make sure I was well-rounded – you know, spend the days like the Jane Austen peeps did – painting and writing and reading and singing and playing the harpsichord or whatever… of course, I probably wouldn’t be allowed to do boxing… Hmmm. So did everyone hear that Donald Trump is suing the writer of TrumpNation: The Art of Being The Donald for defamation? He’s suing the guy for $5 billion dollars. Guess why? Because the book uses three unnamed sources who said Trump is not remotely close to being a billionaire. How hilarious is that? I’m suing you for $5 billion dollars because you said I wasn’t a billionaire. What a waste of time and TAXPAYER money! MY money… my $250! I’m going to sue Trump. Donald, I’m suing your non-billionaire ass because you are lame and obsessed with your fortune. WHO CARES! Only Trump. Does he seriously believe people will think any more or less of him because of a few zeros. He is rich… after talk of a few million, if that, the average person turns the page, takes a bite out of his Mickey D’s burger and tells his friend he’s going to the Giants game with his brother-in-law on Saturday. Trump, GET OVER YOURSELF. Back to the happy place…back to yoga planet… hands to the heart, and breathe… I’ve found my Shakira. Thy will be done, Krishna.

January 24, 2006

USPS + Today=Where's my gun? I need my gun.

Having an annoying morning. Went to bed cranky and woke up cranky. There's a reason, but I won't elaborate here as it would be hypocritical of me to use a public space to air frustrations when that sort of thing is what brought the crankiness on to begin with. What to do about the mood...? Dunno... Perhaps complain about something else? How about the post office and how no matter how hard I try, I never seem to be able to have a stamp on hand when I need one. Why can't I just buy a book of stamps? No. Instead, I traipse around the post office to each stamp machine (b/c the regular line is always soooooo long)...I stand behind this guy who is getting, like, 400 stamps, one stamp at a time---DUDE, don't you work someplace that has a mailroom? So I leave and go to another machine, but it doesn't take dollars. I go back to the previous machine because the guy is done, but as I am walking over there, 4 other people get in line in front of me. It was like some director yelled 'ACTION!' and all the extras filed onto the set...onto the line for stamps...right in front of me. I go downstairs and there is another line of 10 people getting the sheets of stamps that you pay extra for because they are for charity or whatever. Forget that. There are still two other machines, though... I walk over but, alas, THEY DON'T TAKE DOLLARS. I only have dollars. The machines are from 1984, of course, so they don't take debit cards either. I'M ORDERING THEM ON LINE. Today. That's it. Maybe that will make me feel better.

January 23, 2006

Rockin' Out in Royersford

Good Monday to you all. It’s raining and cold and blah. Fabulous. So last night it took me about one million hours to get from Hamilton, NJ to Penn Station because some idiot kids put a cement block on the train tracks and our train ran over said block. I guess I should be thankful I’m not dead, but since I’m not dead, I’m just going to complain about how I had to wait on a freezing cold platform for an hour and a half (I mean, 725,000 hours… xo, James Frey). Anyway, kids from Hamilton, NJ suck and they should all be locked up. I know you are all DYING to know why I was in good old Hamilton, anyway. That is because I was returning from my trip to Royersford, PA, where Dana and Seth hosted a magnificent game night in their basement. There was poker, billiards, sword fighting, dancing and eating. The merriment ensued for hours. There were little kids there, too, but they weren’t the Hamilton, NJ types – we didn’t have to worry about them wielding wrenches, cement blocks or bad attitudes. Annie was shaking her ass like a mini Michael Jackson and since she’s only one year old, I have to assume that with the sort of talent that was on display, she’s been dancing since the womb. (Must’ve been a fun nine months with her, Kate!) And Little Josie partied so hard that she had to hit the Tums. (I don’t think it was the vegetable dip, Dana, but you KNOW that the sour cream measurements were in question.) In any case, it was a fabulous time. My only complaint was that there should’ve been more dancing. Next time, Annie…next time – I know you tried to get everyone up there. Oh and we never played the car game, Seth. I wanted to play the car game. Sunday was the yooz for me at the Rosencrances. Meaning, we ate leftovers and curled up in their dark basement to nap and watch movies on a huge TV screen with surround sound. Como se dice happy and content? Seth made me watch “The Dukes of Hazzard” and “Underworld”, two movies which I would have NEVER rented in 352,000 years (xo, James Frey) but ended up LOVING and now I have to go see “Underworld:Evolution” – who’s in? You go, Kate Beckinsale…you go. Can’t believe she has an 8 year old kid. Seth graciously drove me to Trenton, the fourth circle of hell, and all the train fun began after that. Got home so late, and by the time I ate (grilled cheese, mesclun salad with goat cheese, chocolate milk and a Yuengling lager), I really couldn’t get much of my Brides mag piece done. Ellen tried to help, but she kept talking about leg-warmers and Mariah Carey's emancipation – I couldn’t stop her. So here I sit. My coffee is getting colder and colder because I can’t do two things at once, fluorescent lights are beaming down on my partially wet head (did I mention it was raining…AND I’m getting a cold) and the Joe Pesci sound-a-like is hacking up a lung in her office. Really gotta get working on that screenplay revise. Yeah.

January 20, 2006

The Human Head Weighs 8lbs

Mother of God...I just did my entire entry and Yahoo crashed. Yes, I know, JESSE, use Web Wrangler. Okay, I've learned my lesson. Well, not really, because I am still typing into this application. Screw it, I'll just copy it before I try to save it next time. Ugh. Okay...let's see, what did I talk about? I discussed the warm day and how we should all enjoy it, even though it is evidence of the global warming that is going to annihilate the planet soon. I mentioned that I was going to Royersford, PA to visit Dana and Seth for the weekend (will give you a train time in a minute, D.). Dana's hosting a game night and promises that I don't have to play any card games. I went through the whole explanation of how I don't like card games or games involving dice because I don't have any LUCK. But I love Boggle, Trivial Pursuit and Scrabble. OH, and I mentioned the woman I interviewed last night. Huge apartment on west 57th street. The largest hallway I've ever seen in NYC was lined with framed maps and opened up into this pristine living room, complete with grand piano...with walls lined with carved stone heads on 5 foot tall white square pillars. The lady is French, she's a financial whiz, makes her own jam, is on the board of this and that, everybody in the family is attractive, the kids are bilingual and the 11-yr-old boy sings in the Metropolitan kids choir or whatever. They summer here and winter there (any time the name of a season is used as a verb, you know you're talkin' $$$$). Anyway, it was all very interesting, but all I could think about were the stone heads. I mean, do you really need THAT many stone heads? Couldn't that money be put to better use? Feed some starving kids or something. At one point, I started to ask, "So when you find a head you like..." and she laughed hysterically and exclaimed, "Oh you don't FIND the heads..." Okaaay. She "explained" what she meant, but I didn't understand a word she said. I have no idea how I am going to put together this piece. Oh well. So yesterday my Bloomie's buds (Maria and Meridith) and I discovered some motivational materials posted in the kitchen. Check out the pics...apparently, we are supposed to stay away from negative people. Since we are ALL negative because this working environment sucks, this directive really doesn't apply to us. There was also an angry rant posted on the office water cooler. I'll let that picture speak for itself. (Although I will ask: how much lipstick do you have to wear that it rubs off and leaves an imprint on the water spout thingy?) Well... I think I covered most of what was in my original post. It's not nearly as fun as the original but WHATEVER. Have a great day and gorgeous weekends, lovelies.

January 19, 2006


O.M.frickin'-G. I cannot MOVE at ALL today. If you wanna know why, check out yesterday's entry. Muscle pain is even worse than yesterday. Was trying to throw my towel over the shower curtain rod thingy this morning and just couldn't do it. You really don't appreciate the muscle interaction that goes into everyday movement until you cannot move properly. An amazing thing, the human body. Last night had a couple of Newcastles (my favorite beer, FYI) with Elzer and DARRYL DARRYL DARRYL DARRYL (he's brought it to my attention that I've neglected him on this website) and then headed on home. Did nothing but have a strange dinner (cherry tomatoes, assorted cheeses and stoned wheat thins and sundried tomato stuffed olives) and watch TV. There was nothing to watch, of course. TV is just not doing it for me these days. Oh, but Jen was on Conan O'Brien last night! She sang "Little Hours". Looked and sounded amazing and Conan was loving her. Of course he was. I have to interview this woman tonight for this project I am doing with this lovely photographer named Marili. Apparently, the woman was this high-powered CEO who just up and left her job and now stays home, raises her kids, grows raspberries at her country house and makes jam. She's also an accomplished musician and who knows what else. Overachiever. So Vicky had her memoir writing class last night with the Gotham Writer's Workshop crazies. Can't wait to hear how it was, Veronica Koon. OH and Melissa went to see WANDA SYKES with Jeff in San Fran! How cool is that!? Jeff, did you KNOW I was obsessed with Wanda??? You have good taste, mutha f#*cka (that's how Wanda would say that shit). I'm tired...and Darryl is making me WORK today. WTF, DARRYL DARRYL DARRYL? Why are you so motivated about the One Day Sale mock-up this week? Fine, I'll focus...just for you and just for today, but only if we have a liquid lunch. It IS Thursday, after all. Let's celebrate.

January 18, 2006

Fight Club

Dying today. Cannot raise my left arm more than 2 inches. Boxing was FANTASTIC. The Trinity Boxing Clubis definitely poised to rock my world. Anyone who has EVER wanted to try boxing but is intimidated by the whole big buff guy/boxing gym thing should go here. The people were so cool, everything is totally chill and you get one hell of a workout. I was like - I have to jump rope for three minutes STRAIGHT? Trainer guy was like - yeah, three sets of three minutes. I struggled, but I prevailed. Not without tripping myself up about 400 times. And WTF??-- the dude next to me was jumping so calmly and quickly and was practically reading the paper while he was doing it. Whatever. I promised Jonathan I'd also go to yoga, so next week I'm gonna try a basics class at Laughing Lotus. Tuesday or Thursday at 8:30pm. Anyone wanna come? I figure that between the boxing and the yoga, I might actually morph into a healthy, fit person by the end of the year. Yeah, and hell might freeze over, too, but I'm trying, people. Did hit the Bloomingdale's holiday part at LQ before my boxing lesson. That was...interesting. As corporate as corporate can be. Since I left after 45 minutes, I missed all of the shedding of ties and cardigans and the like as the B-people got drunker and drunker and headed out onto the dance floor. I'm sure it was an interesting night and I'm sure that somewhere in this building today, someone is wondering if they really hooked up with Bob from accounting or if they were just having a nightmare. Ahh, fun in cubicle-land. Must finish my copy for the Bloomingdale's wedding registry ads now...apparently people are still doing the marriage thing...brave souls.

January 16, 2006

Open for Business

Okay, it's a ghost town in this city. It took me two tries to even get into work. First, my usual entrance was closed and then I was informed that the elevators were by card access only today. Of course I have no card and don't know anyone's extension, so the security girl was like, "You cudjust wait, you know. 'Til you, like, see someone you know?" Monday...monday...La la La la la la la. Remember that song? No, you probably don't. I hitched a ride with the Betty Boop look-a-like from the art department. She didn't even KNOW she was giving me access. Awwww yeah. So what IS up with Bloomingdale's being open today when the whole damn city is closed? MMMMhmmmm. Bloomingdale's hates black people...Kanye told me, but I didn't believe it. Watch my ass get sued now. (I'm just kidding. And I don't even work here, so I don't speak for Bloomingdale's. There, am I covered? My lawyer friends...?) So I'm reading Wanda Sykes this morning and let me just say that everyone should be required to read a Sykes excerpt every damn morning. I'm cracking up on the train and everyone (yeah, everyone meaning 3 people and a small dog because it's a GODDAMN HOLIDAY TODAY) is staring. Here's some of it:

The mantra of the majority of my friends who have kids is, "Kids...they are a lot of work, but they are worth it." However, I've noticed that whenever they say this, they never look you in the eye during the "but they are worth it" part. Usually they're looking down at the ground, past you, or up to the sky to ask God to forgive them for that lie they're telling. Watch 'em, they never look you in the eye... You can feel resentment. They hate that you're out there in the world running free. One friend got pissed that I was going on a little vacation.

PARENT: Where are you going?
ME: Jamaica
PARENT: Jamaica. Are you celebrating something?
ME: Naw, just gotta few days free, so thought I'd get away.
PARENT: Free days! Uh-huh. Ya know, we started to go to Jamaica, but Jimmy needed braces. Jimmy! Come over here, boy, smile and show Ms. Wanda, Jamaica. If you put your ear to his mouth you can hear the ocean. Kids... they are a lot of work (head to the sky, tears rolling down), but they are worth it.

Hee hee... found that hilarious. No offense to my preggers friends or those who already have kids. I just KNOW that Cricket felt this way with us, so it cracked me up. Anyhooooo...so how were everyone's weekends? You're probably still celebrating the WEEKEND because it is a HOLIDAY. Maybe if I type loud enough the injustice police will come and shut this joint down. Friday night was a good time... (As I am typing this I am thinking, what the hell did I do Friday night?) Okay, I can't remember. Maybe it will come to me later. Saturday was a 19-hour brunch with Paul and Vicky at Public, land of the pod-people, where they serve botox with their bearnaise sauce (you didn't miss anything, Elron). We got a free round of drinks for no reason, so our nice afternoon buzz kicked in and we stopped wondering if they were going to lock us in the basement at the end of our meal and force us to have toxins injected into our faces. Weird-ass staff. When we got there at 2pm or whatever, the hostess stared at us and said (very slowly), "Are you...here for brunch?" What else would we be there for? There's definitely some secret shit going on at Public. Faw Sho. Vicky and I no speakee exclusive hipster lingo, so we'll probably never know what the deal is. Paul might have figured it out but I don't think he was awake yet at that point. After the pod-people, we went to Merc Bar, where I had a lovely dirty Martini, courtesy of BFF's friend, Jen (that's her name, yes? BFF?). Later, we ended up at 119 and had THE GREATEST TIME EVER, as per usual. Danced rather aerobically for 2 hours straight and my neck is still sore from the headbanging. A girl's gotta get her exercise somehow. Yesterday...did nothing. Bought some healthy food (and by healthy, I mean, I bought Sun Chips instead of Doritos), watched TV and churned out 5 pages of the screenplay. Dat's about it. OH... duh. Friday I met Anna and Donna at this cool bar in Tribeca called i-bar. Good times, great mac and cheese, lots of fun English girls. We went to the bar at the Tribeca Grand to check out the "beautiful" people, but they turned out to be boring. (SURPRISE!) We were over it after one drink. Somehow I decided I would WALK home after that. 2.4 frickin miles at 1 in the morning. Necessary? Well, I guess it's all part of my exercise routine. Who needs a gym? Just go to bars that are really far from your home, dance for hours and then hoof it back. Good times.

January 13, 2006

Luck Be a Phat Lady

It's Friday the 13th. Is anyone superstitious? Is it just because of that movie that Friday the 13th is supposed to be unlucky. Who decided that 13 was an unlucky number, anyway? I don't really think it's more unlucky than, say, 3. Ah, I hate luck anyway, because I don't have any. I mean, I have my relatively decent health and great people in my life, but I've had a hand in some of that, so it's not pure luck. Luck is picking the number Mrs. Cali says she is thinking of when you are in 3rd grade and you are dying to have that gorgeous, one-of-a-kind plastic globe. 17 was the number I did not choose. Luck is involved with board games and card games and all of that, and, as you all know, I don't like playing those games. I think it's a control issue. Plus, luck lets me down, so why should I put myself out there. I'm not buying a stupid lottery ticket. "Hey, you never know..." Nice slogan. Guess what? I KNOW. Luck shmuck. 'Nuf said. I actually DID NOT go out last night. My liver was smiling this morning when I woke up, I could feel the joy inside. Was supposed to maybe go out for Paul's bday but I don't know if they did anything. Victoi? You have update? In any case, I'm not sure exactly when it is, but HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BFF. I owe you a Penelope dinner! Cleaned my room and my closet last night! Now I can find my desk AND my clothes so I guess I can work on the revise of my screenplay AND I won't have to wear this sequined top anymore because my sweaters are back in the rotation. Oh, lovely Nancy Mattia is including me on the Brides magazine contributor's page for the bit I just did for her re: weddings songs. I don't know what month it's for, but I'll let ya know. I'm bored of myself now, so I'll end this entry. T.G.I.F.13, people - have great weekends, if I don't talk to ya.

P.S. New Jersey's new slogan is New Jersey: Come See For Yourself. I think the runners-up were "New Jersey: You Talkin' to Me?" and "New Jersey: Fugheddaboutit"...but I'm not sure.

January 12, 2006

Help me--help you. Help ME, help YOU.

Damn. If I don't get to bed before 4am more than once a week, I think my body is going to call it quits on me. Had dinner with Brian, Ania, Cristin and this girl Jen last night. We ate at Penelope, of course, and Ania knew our waiter because she had just cut his hair on Monday. It's a SMALL PLANET, people, be careful who you piss off. Ania does hair at Bumble & Bumble, and yes, she was very upset that I had gotten my hair cut, nay, savaged by someone else. Dinner was fabulous, as yooz. Then we went to visit my BFF, Paul, at Odessa where he plied us with all sorts of wonderful drinks and concocted something blue for Cristin, per her request. The theme of the evening was ditch the dumbass (no, Tom Cruise was NOT hanging out with us). I'm talking about the significant others of a couple peeps. Anyway, bottom line girls: life is too short. Don't waste your time finding someone to complete you. Live your life, complete yourself, and then find someone to complement you. That's your mission, if you choose to ditch the dumbass. And you better...or I'll find you. Okay, lecture over. Paul sent us to Pianos and we hung out in the corner taking pictures of ourselves for 2 hours, at which point Brian realized they all had missed the one-something train back home so we'd have to stay out for another hour. We finally called it quits at about 2:30am. So why did I not get to bed until 4am? Because I had to download the pictures and check my email and do all sorts of things that I DID NOT need to do. I think I may have even cleaned my room. Or someone else did - Ellen? Woke up to Oprah's voice in my ear defending James Frey. All that crossed my mind was that James Frey was lucky that it wasn't Donald Trump who was promoting him before the "scandal". We all know that Trump dropped Martha faster than a hot pocket when the going got tough there. Yeah, the James Frey thing doesn't bother me all that much. I mean, the dude was wasted out of his mind for half his life, can you blame him for making shit up? (Meridith, if you're reading this, feel free to share your opinion of the story on the blog...I know you have one.) Alrighty then...enjoy some of the pics from last night that are posted here and enjoy your Thursdays. Later.

January 11, 2006

Feel Free To Shake Your Stick at EVERYTHING

Everybody's sick. Drink your OJ, people. And stay away from me. (J/K, feel better Vicky and Dana and Ellen and Paul...did I miss anyone?) So last night Vicky and I went to a Gotham Writer's Workshop for memoir writing. (Yes, expect to see "The Pizza Diaries" by Constance Weatherton (my pen name) at your local bookstore in 2020.) The teacher was pretty cool, but the rest of the class, well... I'll just give you one example of the caliber of "students":

TEACHER: Okay, can someone give us an example of a memoir?
"STUDENT": "Memoirs of a Geisha"!!!!!
TEACHER: Um, well. What do you think makes that a memoir?
"STUDENT": Disappointments, growth, learning.

As Vicky pointed out, (not in class, we are not that cruel), "Memoirs of a Geisha" is a work of fiction. Despite all of this, I think Vicky still plans to take the class in earnest and I raise a glass to that idea. Anyway, yesterday I had three very well balanced meals and more salad than you can shake a stick at (I LOVE that expression because it makes no sense - I mean, you can shake a stick at EVERYTHING if you want to...there are no rules regarding the size of the area at which you shake your stick, you know?) Yeah, so I had a healthy food day. Maybe that'll make a difference in my MOOD today, because it wasn't looking good for anyone in my path yesterday. The girl that was just trying to get to the printer is still smarting from the elbow I threw at her shoulder. Whatever, she was walking, like, a FOOT behind me. Give a girl some space! Planning on taking Brian and our friend Cristin to Penelope tonight and then maybe to see my BFF Paul, who is working at - oh my gosh brain freeze...what's the name? ODESSA! right. East village. If any of you want to jump in on the plans, feel free. Ugh. I guess I'll go do work now. Boooring. Did you guys know that Lindsay Lohan and Nicole Richie are friends again? Toats. Also, Lindsay is"appalled" by the VF article, Vicky, "appalled." Double toats. Oh, and America's favorite homewrecker, Angelina, is preggers. Snore. (Breathe, Elron, breathe...Jen's fixin' to get her boy back, fo sho.)

January 10, 2006

Soap Opera

Late today, because my laundry was trapped in the cellar of my building. Sooooo annoying. First of all, the laundry room closes at 9pm. Since it takes 30min to wash and 45min to dry - oh geez, can't do math this early - the point: you have to be home from work and have all of your quarters ready (which takes at least 10min if you have to search jacket pockets and couch cushions) by like, 7:30. Dang. Who gets their shit together by then if you are working some dumbass cubicle job? Not me. Not ever. Except for last night. And what happens when the stars align? One of 'em blows the hell up. That's right. I'm all happy with myself. The laundry is going, it'll be done by nine. Good times. So I go to get it at 8:45pm and one batch is still wet in the dryer. Muthaf&*#%a, I say to self and to the stupid green sheets. I put more time on the dryer, thinking, I did this once before and nobody came down to order me out of the room. I try to come back down and nope - the elevator won't go to the cellar, and there are no stairs to use. (Now I KNOW there is another way down there, I just have to explore the bowels of the building and find out. Those secretive landlord peeps got nothin on this bitch. I've seen the Goonies, like, 57 times. I know my underground secret passageways and pirate booty shit.) I'll find that damn door. It's a fire hazard anyway. I'm calling the Board of Health and Safety and Wellbeing AND your mother. And YES, Vicky, all of this IS worth it and I will NOT have someone else wash my clothes. NO ONE does my laundry but me. Not everyone is lucky enough to have a butler. Time to write some scintillating copy on Kluft Handrafted Luxury Mattresses. Have a lovely Tuesday.

January 09, 2006

The Weekend and Wanda Sykes

Hola. Vicky, are you going to get the damn radio or what? Howard starts today!!! So how was everyone's weekend? Let's see - Friday was excellent. Vicky, Jill, Melissa, Paul and I had a cozy, tasty meal at Penelope and then a few of us went to the Pine Tree Lodge. The entire bar got up to leave when I played Boyz II Men's "A Song for Mama" on the jukebox. Ellen convinced them to stay and then she and Vicky beat me down before I had the chance to play C + C Music Factory's "Things That Make You Go Hmmm..." Okay, maybe that's just MY version of events, but some of it's true. (And where did I get this black eye then?) Next day was brunch at Lovely Day Restaurant in Nolita, where I had the greatest egg sandwich I've EVER had. (Even though it took 8 years to arrive...and don't even get me started on the latte.) Back to the sandwich: it was a fried egg with Irish sausage on 7-grain toasted bread. There was also a side mesclun salad with the most delicious garlic vinagrette dressing. Yum Yum. We are SOOOO going there again soon, people. Shopping, afternoon martinis, the greatest spicy tuna crunch rolls EVER at Japonica,and then it was off to one of the best dives in the city, Bar 119,where we were to spend quite a few fateful hours before calling it a night. Hours were filled with tales of nail clippers and air-drumming, Sony Pictures peeps, a choreographed Michael Jackson hour (during which time I coated the toes of my favorite boots with grime from the bar floor due to excessive MJ-style foot dragging/moonwalking) and a giant 6 foot 6 man that kept promising to "call for his car" and "show us his studio" (he was harmless, bought us drinks all night and bought me the nail clipper, so I won't make fun of him... see, I'm being kinder in 2006!). Anyway, yesterday was a wonderful brunch with Barrie, Bill and adorable little Will, who smiles more than any baby EVER, a printer purchase and then lots of lounging around doing nothing. EXCELLENT! And now---BLOOMINGDALE'S. Maybe I'll throw you a little Wanda Sykes to brighten your Monday. Here's my girl talking about Native American sports mascots:

Mascots are supposed to give good luck. If a dancing Seminole is considered good luck, why not require the team to stay at a reservation the night before a game. That'll make the wind blow in your favor. Native Americans have been some of the most unluckiest motherfuckers throughout American history. These people woke up one day and their whole country was stolen from them. What kinda luck is that? Pocahontas didn't bring John Smith good luck. Hanging around her almost got his ass killed...Why don't you use people who just won the lottery as mascots? I'll cheer for the Washington O.J.'s Better yet, use Ryan Seacrest as a mascot. Week after week, the fans would be annoyed as fuck, but luck would be on your side.

January 06, 2006

Clean THIS!

Getting to this entry kind of late today because I was finishing up the Brides piece, which Ellen helped me edit until 3:30am last night (how you feeling today, Hubbard?). Thanks for the assistance, lady. Now I'm eating HORRIFIC pizza (is there any other kind other than Sal's?), courtesy of Bloomingdale's. Today is "cleaning day" here, so I guess they figured we'd need some sustenance. I still don't really know exactly what I'm supposed to be cleaning, but I get to wear jeans because of all the cleaning, so that's good. And I'll tell you what--I am not going to clean anything. They've been asking, but I'm like, NO. "Oh, Heather, here's a broom..." NO SIREE... FREELANCE. "Oh, Heather - that vent is FULL of asbestos, use these gloves..." KISS IT...COMO SE DICE "FREELANCE". Thank God this week is almost over. Tomorrow I will journey to my sneaker mecca and engage in some light, and by light I mean cheap, shopping in SoHo...Prada peeps won't be seeing my mug. If anyone cares to join, give me a call.

January 05, 2006

Jon Stewart and My Mecca


Yes! Jon Stewart is hosting the Oscars this year! That means I must have a party. Well, WE must have a party (Elron, Melisser?)! We certainly have enough booze and the fabulousness of vodka sours has been brought to my attention by Stephan Crump. I must share the sour joy with you all. Last night I worked until 3:30am on my wedding song lists for this Brides piece I am doing. Don't feel TOO bad for me, as I procrastinated until about 10pm. [I ordered the home dock for my Sirius portable. B&H Photo was the only place I could find it. The Jewish folk know what they are doing. It probably won't come for a month because, according to Sirius, "It's not officially out yet." Bizarre. One can only assume that they didn't know how well the radio units would sell and so they held off on the home dock. WHATEVER.] As I was saying, before I rudely interrupted myself with a large (and rather boring) BRACKETED comment, I was working on the wedding list last night and found myself air drumming to Peter Cetera (you know, the guy from the band "Chicago", and Chaka Kahn's "Feels Like Heaven". Wow. I wasn't sure what category to put that adult contemporary dynamo (that I OBVIOUSLY love) in, so I decided upon "Second-Time Around". I don't know why and I know you don't care, but I'm just sayin'. So it's only Thursday? This is turning out to be the longest short week ever. GOD. OOOH OOOOH...read about this store in New York magazine that is like, MY MECCA. No joke. It's in NoLita on Mott street (in your hood, Paul!) and it's called Laces and it's New York's first sneaker boutique just for women. I'm drooling, and I'll be there at some point this weekend. Who's coming????

January 04, 2006

Very Important Useless Knowledge + Wanda Sykes

Good Wednesday to you all...40 degrees and sunny here in good old New York City. How is everyone? Believe it or not, I don't think I have anything to say! Is this possible? Let's see.... what's going on...? Well, I'm reading this book that's really cool. It's called The Works: Anatomy of a City by Kate Ascher. It has fascinating information about NYC's infrastructure and all the crap that goes on underground and above ground that we pay no attention to everyday. It's got a textbook vibe to it, but it's fun and easily digestible. If you are hungry for useless knowledge or want to be ahead of the game in case armageddon arrives in NYC sometime soon (SOMEONE is going to have to navigate the tunnels underground and know where all the abandoned subway platforms are), pick up this book. I'm also reading Wanda Sykes' new book, and I'll round out this entry with a fun excerpt from said book re: the California election recall:

My take on this is: You voted for the guy, you stick with him. You don't get a do-over. One hundred and thirty-five candidates, and it amazes me that some people actually got votes. If I were a California resident at the time, I would've voted for Gary Coleman. California has serious financial problems. Who knows more about being broke than Gary Coleman? He's qualified. But seriously, who would actually get in their car to go vote for Gary Coleman? Then again, I don't think you're driving a car if you're voting for Gary Coleman. You know you are taking the bus if you are voting for him. That, or you're making a hiking trip to the polls. There should be trapdoors at the polls. Once you pull the lever for some bullshit, down you go. "I'm voting for the ex-porn staaaarrrrr!" Down ya go.

You'll hear more from Wanda, people, oh yes you will.

January 01, 2006

A new year...that's right...let's get our shit together!

Happy New Year! There it is - done. The holidays - over. Thank God. And while we're talking about HIM again (because we are very, very holy, you see), let us and by us I mean me (because I am pretentious, as you all know)...ugh, i think my New Year's resolution should be not to digress, no? Okay - resolved. Now what was I saying? Wait, I have to go get some Doritos. Okay, I'm back. Yes, let me be thankful for all of you wonderful people that stopped by 240 E. 30th Street last night. It was a most excellent night and I am glad you were all a part of it. There was a small chance early on before the party that I was going to have a wear a stocking cap to the festivities, as a woman named Irma gave me a very intensive $18 haircut during my usual Saturday romp through the bowels of the city. As it is tradition that I MUST enlist a stylist to tempt the hair fates with me directly before every event that I attend, I thought it fitting that a woman named Irma would do the honor. I think that she was a little upset that I wouldn't let her do small braids because, after all, she was a "Hair Artist", or so it said on her card, and I was reducing her to a "Hair Stylist"--but let's just call her scissor happy for now. OMG I am digressing MORE THAN EVER. It's the opposite of the resolution. It's a revolution. Viva la revolution! (What?...I don't know, I'm hungover). Anyway, thank you all for coming, lovelies. It is good to know that if or when the shit ever goes down, I'll be surrounded by true friends of the most amazing caliber. (You're not bad looking, either.) Here's to a year of fresh starts, new challenges and, above all, lots of love and laughter. You guys are the best!

A Jason Langford Christmas

Since Jason's comments were so extensive and you know how much I love blog participation, I am going to give him his own entry... And now, please ENJOY "A Jason Langford Christmas":

Heatha...my first post! I couldn't resist. Sorry but mussels for Christmas? That's just wrong. Whatever happened to turkey or ham? Anyway, I figured you would appreciate this story...so my Dad & stepmother Carolyn gave my bedroom to my stepbrother Brian (who still lives at home) and turned his old room into an office/exercise room. Long story short, they got rid of the guest bed. Nice, huh? So whenenever I visit I have the pleasure of sleeping on an air mattress in between a treadmill and 2 iMacs. I mean it is one of those rather expensive Aero Beds...but still people...it's an air mattress. So this year, at about 11pm on Christmas Eve, I go to inflate the damn thing only to find out the pump is BROKEN. No Aero Bed for Jason. Instead, I sleep on the fold out sofa in the family room (a 25 year old Ethan Allen sofa, long ago replaced by Scan Design leather couches in the formal living room). I wake up Christmas morning with the WORST backache evah! Why you may ask didn't I just sleep on the new leather couches? Well, apparently 6' is too tall for them. I find that odd. I mean, they are Scan Design...from Scandanavia, no? Aren't those people all 7 feet tall? So with a broken back, I go to church again (having also just been the night before for the candlelight service). Church twice in 12 hours. Sweet. I inform the parental unit that I will be driving home that night...on Christmas, but whatever (not into breaking the back again I explain). Instead, my Dad & Carolyn...who feel so bad...book me a room at the Best Western for the night and send me off with a lovely muscle relaxer in hand. Not bad I guess. I am not really that familiar with Best Westerns, but I will say this one was pretty nice. Almost as nice as the muscle relaxer. Oh and here's the best part...before I head off to the Best Western, I spend the evening with Dad watching every old show ever made on TV Land. Each time the word "gay" is mentioned my Dad makes sure to mention "that was from when gay was a GOOD word". Nice. And how was YOUR Christmas? LOL. Love ya...Jason