Friday, July 22, 2005

I need to get off this continent. I haven't traveled outside the U.S in 8 years. And the last place I visited was Texas - TEXAS! Not a big fan. But most texans scare me, soI won't elaborate.

I must see the Louvre...and Munich....and Rome...Florence...New Zealand.

Give me more ideas...what's your favorite place in the world...and why.

Monday, July 11, 2005

"Allez un peu courage"

I was building a stage for a french show and I found that scrawled on the underside of one of the faux marble pieces.

"Go with a little courage"

I love it!

Tuesday, July 05, 2005

There's nothing better than a friend - who at the end of a long, successful party - will agree to join you as you both create an interpretive dance to the Say Anything anthem of our generation - "In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel.

I mean really - when you eaten as much guacamole and baked brie as you can stand, and have drunk enough wine to get a small country intoxicated - you need to get your groove on and do a little free-form dancing.

Thanks TJ - you're my Lloyd Dobbler.

Saturday, July 02, 2005

So I was born in the year of the Dragon. Interesting. Here's what I found out about THAT little factiod.

Year of the Dragon
Dragons tend to be popular individuals who are always full of life and enthusiasm, with a reputation for being fun-loving. They make good priests, artists and politicians.

Good priests? Nope. Not for me.

Good Artists? Ding! Ding! Ding! - hit that one on the nose.

Good Politicians - I am very politically aware and active in local issues...

Hmmm...maybe there's something to all this astrology.

That - and it is pretty cool having a Dragon as a symbol. My mother and sister got stuck with Sheep and Dog, repsectively.

Thursday, June 30, 2005

Friends' Bands

It seems like everyone I know has a band. (Good, bad, and ugly) And I have to go see their shows to support them. I went last night to see a friend from high school play - and how relieved was I when they were good? Check them out:
The Honey Brothers

It's like all my standup comedian friends - 9 times out of 10, they're funny - but the 20 other people going up and doing five minutes that night aren't. And then your stuck with no laughs and a 30 dollar bill for 2 drinks.

Tuesday, June 28, 2005



I recently co-sponsored an alumni pub crawl - partnering with another college. We started at Hogs and Heifers in New York City (of Coyote Ugly fame) which, in hindsight (see picture) may not have been the BEST idea in the world.

The bartenders demanded that a female representative from each college get up on the bar or all of us would have to give up our bras. (see wall behind my dancing self)

My question is - who owns enough bras that the idea of taking one off and throwing it up onto the moose head at a honky tonk bar becomes a no-brainer? As soon as the options became clear I scrambled up on that bar tout suite. I had my favorite bra on - No way Jose.

Special thanks go out to the four dudes at the end of the bar who bought me a shot afterwards. I needed it.
Email Address books.

I went to send out a mass email to friends - and remembered to include myself as a recipient. I double clicked on my name in the address book and realized I had SPELLED MY OWN NAME WRONG. Am I going crazy? Probably not. But now I have to go through my entire address book and see who else is incorrectly entered.

Monday, June 27, 2005

Why I hate Los Angeles.

Plenty of people tell me why New York City is a terrible place. They are wrong - but there's just no talking to them.

This is my experience with LA - encapsulated by one friend experience - which became many.

Andy*** (name changed to protect the guilty) had moved out to LA to make it big as a writer. A recent transplant from the suburbs of D.C., Andy tried to tell me that a very long time ago a group of disillusioned New Yorkers followed in the footsteps of Lewis and Clark to build the perfect city - New York without all the imperfections. So these traitors basically got rid of everything that makes the Big Apple interesting and vibrant and the end result was L.A. So you see how only a true New Yorker can scoff at this lie fabricated to make the residents of Los Angeles feel better about themselves. Yes - Inner City L.A. has no problems, and the celery eating, smoothie drinking silicone people should be proud of the fact that they don’t recycle anything. The ad campaign for real estate in Los Angeles would be a Baywatch babe with amputated legs driving a Porsche. (Who needs legs. Nobody walks in L.A.) She’d be drinking out of a styrofoam cup and smoking a cigarette, while squinting through the smog.

Andy had landed a PA job on a popular sitcom and agreed to drive me around LA on his day off. Let me just state that I have been asked on many occasions to shuttle friends, and friends of friends, and friends of friends of friends around to all the cheesy sites of NYC - It's part of the job description of living in a touristy city.

Andy drove me past the Hollywood sign - not stopping, then down Rodeo drive - also not stopping or even slowing down. I finally made him stop at the Walk of Fame. And then he REFUSED to get out of the car to look at the stars with me because it was lame and too touristy. He has a sarcastic sense of humor - I thought he was kidding. He wasn't. Holy crap - it was so rude.

I got out and asked another "lame" tourist to take a picture of me with David Hasselhoff's ill-gotten star.

We then went to a sushi restaurant. Over sashimi I start asking Andy about his job. In a loud whisper that echoed through the halls of sushi - he says" SHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! You don't talk about the BUSINESS in Sushi restaurants."

Again I assumed that a joke was intended. It wasn't.

I don't know what happens to people in LA - But I didn't like it at all. I'll take caffeinated NYC any day of the week.

Friday, June 24, 2005

Gambling is very popular these days. I myself have never gambled - even at scary old Atlantic City which is just one senior-citizen bus tour away.

Here is why I don't gamble. I spent my summers on the Jersey Shore - mainly at the Seaside Heights amusement park which is populated wholly by the insane and criminals.

When not trying to cadge free rides off of the hapless 16 year old boys who ran most of the rides, I would become obsessed with winning the prizes at the Games of Chance.

Games of Chance should be renamed "Games of Fat Chance" - I plopped down all my money to win Astro and Bart Simpson - made out of some sort of indestructible fabric. It was an obsession - people would walk away from my - bored with my failure.

I distinctly remember watching my sister winning a giant raccoon at the rigged basketball carnie booth. My soul burned with jealousy - if only I could win a raccoon that was bigger than I was - which, once home in my tiny NYC apartment bedroom would take up most of the space on my bed. My cack-handed 7 year old self could only score the mini-raccoon with one basket.

No one should ever let me walk into a casino. I would never come out again.

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Ronald Reagan Thoughts.

I've gone off on a tangent thank you, NonDatingLife.

I met Ronald Reagan when I was 8 years old. My twin sister had won a National contest.

The night before we left for DC she got over excited and ran into a wall - giving her 2 black eyes.

When President Ronald Reagan met her (he was set to read her poem aloud on National News) he saw the disaster that this photo op would be (read" President Reagan reads poem by abused child) and backed out. Nancy Reagan said: "Awww...two black eyes for Christmas" and quickly scurried away.

I did get to eat jelly beans out of his Jelly Bean Jar in the Oval Office. I remember that, being terrified of him, eating brunch in the Congressional Dining hall with Vice President Bush and getting food poisoning, and that Nancy Reagan had a huge head.
I went to the chiropractor on Tuesday. She noticed something on my ankle and said: "what's this?...oh - a teeny tattoo. That's cute - what is it? A little flower?"

Yes. I have a teeny blue flower tattoo on my ankle. I am officially cliché.

I got it when I was 23. A good friend was staying with me. It was her first time in New York City. She's very quiet and conservative.

We went to Caliente Cab Company around noon. Well, long story short - Three margaritas and six bowls of the free chips and salsa later,Kimberly said she wanted to get a tattoo. We started looking for a place to get them done.

A guy named Mad Dog etched the quaint, blue flower on my ankle.

Kim got a purple salamander on her hip above her butt.

Two sheets to the wind - both of us got tattoos of no real significance etched permanently on our bodies.

Hey - at least I didn't get a butterfly on the small of my back. That would have been REALLY cliché.
I guess mom was right when she said: "People always tell you who they are."

I recently went on a date where the guy - less than five minutes into the conversation told me he had "serious anger issues"

And you know what went through my mind? Not good ole' mom's advice. It was something along the lines of: "What he'd just say? Whatever. He's cute."

I hate that "He's Just Not That Into You" guy. But maybe I should listen to him. Do I really want a guy with "serious anger issues" who "often blows his top" to be into me?

How is this good date conversation? Good first date conversation of all things. Aren't you supposed to save your emotional baggage for when you move in with each other?

Emotional baggage is like a housewarming gift.

Here, honey. Remember how you thought I was all charming and successful and witty? The reality is I have serious anger issues. Let's go to Ikea.