« January 2005 | Main | March 2005 »
Mon, February 28
My Show Tonight! Who Cares About Impending Snow?
Please come to see Inner Monologues #3: How To.
Apocalypse Lounge
189 East 3rd St.
Between Ave A and B
8pm
It's the show that thinks it could, it thinks it could (despite cancellations due to renovation of Apocalypse, bad weather, writers who copped out, etc.)
Posted by lexzog at Mon, February 28 | Comments (0)
Mon, February 21
"I just don't like what they put on his face."
Not too much to report here--I've had the lowest of low key weekends, taking care of J and calling friends only to find out they'd all gone away for the three-day. I shed a tear when J's roomate and his girlfriend bid us adieu for the ski weekend we were supposed to take with them...But, I did catch up on much needed sleep, ate every take-out cuisine I'd been craving (Chinese, Thai, Pizza...Is that a cuisine?) and watched a lot of movies ("Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle" I ended up seeing twice!)
During the days though, I did manage to get out at least a little bit. On Saturday, Dan met me at the Met (hahaha!) We walked around, looked at our favorite 19th century painters, and even threw in a little bit o' Duccio (Madonna and Child). I have always had trouble telling one 13th century painting of Madonna and Child from another. Frustrating.
This link helped me:
http://employees.oneonta.edu/farberas/arth/Arth213/Duccio.html
Now I remember: Duccio's figures all look a bit green like they are about to be sick. Imagine that. The Virgin Mary hurling on poor little Baby Jesus.
At night the Met has music playing above the main entry hall. You can sit at little cafe tables and have a drink with some peanuts while listening to the piano. Dan didn't have enough patience to fight for a seat, so I'll save this luxury for my next trip.
Yesterday I met my parents at "Barmarche" (Elizabeth and Spring) for brunch. Dad cut across to the West sided so he could show my family The Gates, which ended up taking them an extra hour to get down town. I waited at the bar and worked on the short story I've been editing that I wrote last week.
When everyone arrived and we sat down, Grandpa took a look at Justin and said, " I like the way he looks!" I was surprised--did Grandpa really like the new eye brow ring? I smiled at him and looked at him like, "Wow! Grandpa, you are SO COOL!" He kept on nodding his head, saying, "Justin looks good! It looks good!" and gesturing towards Justin's head.
A minute later, Grandpa leaned into my ear and said in a low whisper:
"I just don't like what they put on his face."
When he said Justin looked good, he was referring to Justin's hair cut, not the piercing. I should have known.
After brunch, we said goodbye to our parents and skipped along Elizabeth St., since, you know, we're five year olds at heart.
Some smart-ass on the side walk made a stupid comment about the positive health effects of skipping.
I went to his apartment to download some of his music onto my ipod, and to feed his pet turtles. Justin waved the turtle food he'd just bought, in front of the tank, and the turtles started swimming excitedly, bobbing up and down by the water's surface. He poured in some pellets, and missed a few. I went to pick up the pellets, and as I was doing so, my elbow hit a beer bottle that had been sitting on the platform near the landing of the stars (where the tank sits), and spilled all over my pashmina scarf and my winter coat.
"Who puts a beer bottle, just randomly, right there!?" I asked. I was furious.
"This was JUST DRY CLEANED!"
"I can't believe it! A whole beer bottle! On my coat! On my scarf!
Later, Justin made fun of me for stating many obvious things:
"Who puts BEER in a BOTTLE?"
"Who just leaves BEER in a BOTTLE lying around after a party?
"My scarf! There's beer on it. It smells like BEER!"
And so on. Ha.
We went to a cute coffee place between B and C on 6th St. called "Drink Me", and did some work. Justin fell asleep on his Organic Chem book.
Today, I went to a spin class at 23rd and Park. The very gay instructor said the funniest things, and I wish I could do my impression here but too bad you can only imagine it. He said, "Ok people I want you to imagine that ex boyfriend or ex girlfriend coming up behind you. Right? They're coming up behind you getting closer and closer. Look! Its that annoying person from work! He's there too! Come on. Faster! Faster! Get in you ZOOOOOONE! The Zone, people! Break through the wall!"
Sigh.
J came with me to meet up with my friend Marge and her boyfriend Dan. Erica came too which was a nice surprise. We met at "Bread" on Spring St. (I've always wanted to go), where everyone looked like models and the waiters were not pushy. We waited twenty minutes for a table who had already gotten their check half an hour ago to get the (bleep) up and leave already! It was painful to watch. One person needed change. Another wasn't sure how much he wanted to put on his credit card. One person needed to get up and use the bathroom. Someone else decided he was hungry and ordered another sandwich! To make matters worse, the tomato soup, which looked so unbelievably good, was all out by the time we ordered!
Remarkably, I am very tired and afflicted with this darn headache that keeps coming back to me every other day (since last Friday!)
So I will say goooo-nite.
Posted by lexzog at Mon, February 21 | Comments (0)
Thu, February 17
Nurse Lex
J has the flu.
So yesterday, I told him I'd be happy to go over and take care of him. I imagined myself serving him chicken soup (yes, serving, not cooking. I don't cook), massaging his back, bringing him those teeny little capfulls of Nyquil.
But no.
We watched "Office Space" which I was nice enough to go out and rent...He was not in much of a mood for well, anything. He didn't laugh at the movie (who DOESN'T laugh at that movie?!), he didn't touch his soup (I managed to be offended, even though "The Comfort Diner" made it, not me), and when I tried to touch his leg he pushed me away!!!
Yeah, I know. He wasn't himself. But in the end I felt kind of redundant. I started reading my book, and ended the night in a heated conversation with a french friend of Thomas's (J's roomate) until 1am. He actually is being sexually harassed by his male (married, with kids) boss! And he can't leave, because then he'd have to give up the whole year of work he's supposed to do in a lab, for his medical internship (he's training to become a dermatologist.) It was amazing, how even a sturdy, good-looking, very smart and charming guy can be taken advantage of in a sexually distasteful way. No, nothing has happened, but he can't get himself out of this situation. No matter what he's said to his teacher: "This is not professional of you to call me, or email me." or "I don't want you to touch me." No matter WHAT he does or says, his boss continutes to manipulate him. If he is too harsh, the boss will cry. If he doesn't respond at all to, let's say, an email or call, the boss will treat him like trash. Ugh. It was so frustrating trying to help him figure out a way out...But I think the best thing for him to do is quit.
I believe we ALWAYS have a choice to make. Nothing is ever out of our control. He would be far better off leaving this one-year commitment mid-year and starting over in a better work environment, then having to spend three years or more trying to get over the emotional strain of having been taken advantage of emotionally by a superior.
Thoughts?
So J called this morning to thank me, very sincerely, for coming over last night. Which was nice.
Yesterday, a co-worker and I were admiring the roses on my desk, and while we were staring at it, one of the roses actually opened before our eyes...It was like something out of the nature channel--you know, when they take videos for hours of flowers, and then they speed it up afterwards and you can see a flower opening from its bud to full bloom? That's kind of like what we saw.
"I feel like we shared something special", my coworker said to me.
Posted by lexzog at Thu, February 17 | Comments (0)
Tue, February 15
So...Stressed! But Why?
I don't know what is going on....I have nothing to REALLY be stressed about...But I've been going to sleep and waking up with majorly painful headaches, my pulse is racing, and I just have a lot of energy to expend. Aggghhh!
I just got back from a very wonderful show at PS 122 (Badman was performing, and I wanted to support him). It was a spoken word event (the theme was "Worst...Sex...Ever") a lot like my show at Apocalypse, but with a greater cast of seasoned writers/performers. I sat between Thomas (J's french roomate) and his friend Francois from Lyon, and translated for them what words like "cunt" , "lube" and "beer-can dick" mean. Though, it turns out I needed a bit of a lesson myself—one of the speakers spoke about using "poppers" and I'd never heard of those before. For some (scary) reason, Thomas and his friend Francoise were the experts.
The show nearly entertained the pants off of me...And I was so excited to think about what (maybe) my little shindig could become some day, I started to STRESS.
Why isn't MY show more like that? Why can't I get a venue like that (it is a nice blackbox theatre)?
I spoke to some of the readers on the show to see if they would be interested in reading in one of mine. There was some interest.
But then on my walk home, and after talking to Laurie, and then talking to Erica and Zach I realized that what I like (and what I think other people like) about Inner Monologues is that it features friends of mine...People that have become familiar on my stage...And people who've never done this before (except for Badman and Brian--and there I go again wishing I had a whole crew of Badmans and Brians, in terms of their performance ability).
!!!
Then there's that book proposal I gave to one of the editors the other day....Still waiting to hear her response.
And I still haven't had my MID YEAR REVIEW!
And Grad School! What about Grad School? I've been overwhelmed with wanting to write, write, write (can you tell, though its crappy here)? I wrote a piece for my old college magazine THE COLLECTION and will post the link when the issue is done...Its nice that they still let me write for them. I have trouble parting with my position there :)
Anyway....Let's get away from the things that make me grind my teeth at night.
I saw my family this weekend, and it was wonderful. The last time I saw this part of the family was at a funeral, so it was so nice to just be able to sit around an ungodly amount of bagels (from Brooklyn) and chicken/tuna/egg salad and just enjoy each others company in happy times.
My four year old cousin Ayla came downstairs wearing one of my dresses from when I was her age (a polka dot Minnie Mouse dress I bought in Disney World and wore every single day for maybe a year). Ashley, now in the "older kid" role, trailed behind her, smiling conspiratorially. And it was odd to see her as the Big Kid and not the Baby.
Ayla apparently is already a hit with the boys...They all want to be her boyfriend (and I had to wait nearly 24 years to find a real one?!). I asked her who her boyfriend is, and she put her hands on her hips and said matter-of-factly,
"My boyfriend lives in the sky."
"My boyfriend is God."
Her mother, my cousin Rachel, assured me that Ayla came up with this all by herself.
The cutest was watching her play hide and seek with Ashley, and she'd say, "Ashleeeey! Come and find me I'm behind the curtaaaaaain!"
On Saturday night I went to dinner with my parents in Norwood, NJ. The place, "D'Amore" is like, THE SCENE. The "Kittichai of Jersey", if you will. Forty-something women who look twenty something from the back (their hair is stick straight and long, they are as skinny as highschool girls) parade around in furs and holding martinis, with their older, quite unfortunate looking rich husbands by their sides.
Despite the scene, it was an excellent restaurant. A surprise for the suburbs. Mom of course tried to be funny and told jokes to the waiter, who only spoke Italian. So phrases like, "I hated it! I couldn't eat a bite!" went a bit over his head.
Valentines Day....I think I might give in and post a picture of the flowers from J that arrived on my desk because it's the same bouqet he sent me on my birthday, but with a Valentine theme (all variations of red). The greatest thing is that this time I'm so happy that they are from him...The last time he sent me a bouquet, we were still barely dating and I was just about to get dumped by the Email Dumper, so when the lobby called to say I had flowers, I had hoped it was that other jackass who sent them to me. But this time...VERY DIFFERENT.
We had dinner at Peasant on Elizabeth St, where I'd never been before (gasp! A restaurant Lex has not eaten at?!) The waiter was a bit overeager...He came up to our table, just seconds after we had sat down, and asked, "Would you like some help with the menu?" and we hadn't even opened the menu yet. "No, we'd like just a few minutes", said J. "Well, it IS in Italian", the waiter pointed out. "Yeah, but we'd still just like a few minutes to look at it." And THEN the waiter says, "You realize though, that it IS very dark in here."
OH MY GOD!
(He IS very annoying!)
As J pointed out, a) Why the hell is your menu in Italian in the first place and b) If it is in a language most people in New York do not speak, why would you shroud your patrons in a cloud of darkness?
Seriously.
The dinner was much more subtle than the waiter. I have been craving the rosemary lamb I had last night with a creamy polenta, all day. And I never crave a meal I had the night before (hence my distaste for leftovers.)
They gave us free dessert, which of course we ate because it was, well, free. When we got back to J's, his roomate's girlfriend had baked us her first Tarte Tatin in the U.S. (she's Swiss) and a Pear Tart. Well, our five course meal didn't hold us back! We sat around the table with all the roomates and the french visitor, eating tarts and drinking Eau de Vie (a Swiss digestif that tastes like apricot.)
I swore I'd never eat again.
Of course I ate again today.
I am reading the most DEPRESSING book called "A Blessing on the Moon" by Joseph Skibell. It starts out with a mass execution during WWII, in a small town. The protaganist finds himself still alive in the mass grave, and scrambles out. He runs to his old house, only to find his neighbors and former employees are moving in...and then realizes he is DEAD. A walking corpse who no one can see. And the Rebbe has been turned into a crow. It is a very symbolic story, but so very sad and grotesque. I can't put it down but I am sure this book has something to do with my nightmares and tension.
Grrrr.
Going to work on my own piece for Inner Monologues (Feb. 28th!!!)
Posted by lexzog at Tue, February 15 | Comments (1)
Fri, February 11
Last night, at Babbo
I braved the harsh winds, with a feeling that I was going to keel over from exhaustion (fell asleep on the R train on the way to spin class with Rebecca), and hunger (it was 10pm and I hadn't eaten since 12:30!) to finally land in the gastronomic fantasy land that is BABBO.
J had been trying to get reservations there for a while, so when I heard we were going I was ecstatic. Mario Batali is known for making amazing dishes for the adventurous gourmandes...
When I got there, I had my big pink sleepover bag with me (because the restaurant was closer to J's apartment than mine), which never feels classy when you walk into a nice restaurant.
I didn't see him at the bar so I went up to the hostess.
"Yes? You are waiting for somebody?" she asked. Which always makes me feel like I'm on a first date and about to be stood up.
"Yes, my boyfriend made a reservation here, for 10pm." I gave her his name.
"Ah yes! He is here already!" she pointed to the bar.
Of course I had missed him, because he was squeezed between two generic looking investment bankers in large stuffy suits, and a pretty woman in a ski cap and knit sweater. For a second, I was like, "Who is that cute girl he's talking to?" but then I realized she was there with her own significant other and the engrossing conversation J was in with her of course, had to do with "what's good here (i.e. the food)". We sat at the bar, me with a glass of champagne, and J with his usual Ricard, talking to the woman and her significant other...When she got up to grab her coat from the coatcheck, we found out from her S.O. that she owns a bakery..."What bakery?" we asked, knowing that people who wear ski caps and fuzzy sweaters to fancy restaurants MUST do something so cool it hurts..."Magnolia?" said the S.O., in question form, as if we might not have walked for miles out of our way on summer days to "stop by" for a quick cupcake "since it's on the way."
Plebians.
We were seated at dinner, side by side, which I always like in restaurants. That way you can people watch. We stare at each other often enough! We made friends with the couple next to us, who happened to be from Englewood Cliffs (we talked about our mutual love of Baumgarts on Palisades Ave. and their pecan pie a la mode). The girlfriend had bought a Scooby Doo candle to put atop her boyfriend's almond tart, and we sang happy birthday to him. The family on our other side was celebrating a birthday too. We learned the names of the birthday men in the nick of time,
"Happy birthday dear-
("Joe', someone mouthed).
"-Joe, happy birthday to you."
J insisted we eat like Italians, which meant we had to choose two apps, two primis (pastas) and two entrees. Good lord that was a lot of eating. We ordered raw scallops in a lime/chili vinaigrette, and calamari grilled in a pan with a sweet sauce. This was followed by a lobster pasta in a marinara sauce and spaghettini. Then we had the Babbo signature pasta dish: Beef cheek ravioli. It tasted like chopped liver, but with mushrooms. I was full by then, but the food kept coming. We weren't too into the tripe "parmiaganno", so we only picked at that. The entree was sweet breads, which J described as "the best general chow's chicken you'll ever have." And it was. Especially the sweet onions...
The waiter paired wines with our courses, so we were pretty tipsy by the night's end. I remember getting into a cab, then saying good night to J and his roomate who were talking in the living room, and waking up this morning thinking it was Saturday.
But at least it is Friday, and everyone kind of futzes around on Fridays at work (hence, my writing on the blog).
It was so nice to get all those emails from people asking "what happened to your blog" for the few moments I had decided to blockade it. And, I do not take credit for the popup message that people saw when they tried to come to my page. That was Zach's creation ("my dog did a meep on my rug").
I am not so vulgar.
Posted by lexzog at Fri, February 11 | Comments (0)
Mon, February 7
Pygor! Pygor!
A coworker of mine overheard that I wanted to see the movie BARBARELLA and was nice enough to rent it for me on her Netflix. It is the perfect movie to do laundry to. And cook to. And do my nails to. And talk on the phone to, blog to, hang with my roomates to...God I am SO BORED but I feel obligated to watch it. I should keep in mind though, that this same coworker started bringing me tamales every day when she heard I liked them. Either I should be quiet about my desires, or I need to avoid thoughtful and nice coworkers.
My favorite quote from this (now I realize) soft core porn movie:
"An angel does not MAKE love, and angel IS love."
In other news...For about a day or two I decided my life was getting too "crowded" and the whole blog thing was just another obligation. I took my blog offline, and was flattered to hear from various friends and acquaintances, "Hey! I tried to read your blog but this weird password thing came up." And then, suddenly, I felt a little sad about no longer having this public forum. So it is back! Yeah, baby, it's back!
(Haha I just got to the part in "Barbarella" where she is about to have celestial sex for the third time, and is pissed when the guy wants to do it how they do it on earth--by taking a pill and touching hands. "But wait! Can't we do it your way?" she asks." He says, "I don't want to be a SAVAGE! I've been waiting five years for this!")
Ok, that was mildly entertaining.
This weekend...Ah the weekend. Superbowl was last night. I went to Jarett's party with J and his friends. I'm not a sports person, but the food and the company was excellent...He ordered food from "Dinosaur Barbeque" (the one on 125th St.), and I hadn't eaten all day , so I ate and ate all the ribs, pulled pork and wings I could. When I thought it wouldn't be possible to eat any more, the "Girls Gone Wild Halftime Show" came on, and I was forced into the kitchen with the other girlfriends at the party to pretend to be disgusted and too chaste to watch drecht (Kevin can you fix my yiddish spelling errors?) like that...and instead ate cake and doughnut holes.
Ugh.
Saturday night, J and I dined at "Kittichai" (the restaurant in the Thompson hotel) with his coworker and her husband . The place was GORGEOUS. There was a floating pool of lilly pads in the middle of the restaurant with flowers hanging from the cieling overhead. I loved the heavy curtains, all in different shades of yellow and orange, against mostly black walls. I had the best mango martini- made from fresh mango puree. We ordered fried rock shrimp, black-chocolate spare ribs, and Thai fish cakes. I had a flaky sea bass...It was so white and soft. I think Erica had said it was the best sea bass she's ever had (Zach took her for her birthday) and I think I agree.
After that, we said hi to Michelle S. at "People Bar" and then met Jen at her brother's going away party, and Care showed up too. It was at Essex, which makes this my fourth time there within seven days. Odd, since before that it had been a year that I had been there last. And this Friday is Rahul's birthday, also at Essex!
Friday night was Karina's birthday at "Yuca Bar". We had aimed to have dinner and a girls night out, but ended up just enjoying hanging out and having girl talk. You know, the subject of bikini waxing never gets old? One of her friends boasted that she's never needed one, but was getting one "just because." Heh. She'll be singin' a different tune quite soon. Maybe she should watch this video:
http://www.transbuddha.com/mediaHolder.php?id=211
Its an awful video...But that'll teach HER.
(And right now in the movie, Barbarella is inhaling from a hookah like apparatus, a substance called "Essence of Man." Insane!)
Just got my laundry back from downstairs. Always a nice place to make friends...So glad that movie is over.
Oh, and I'm happy that INNER MONOLOGUES was canceled after all, because I was stressed that we weren't prepared enough...Then again, I ALWAYS feel that way and then it turns out great. I hope that all the people who hired babysitters and were planning on driving from the Tri-State area to see the show tonight will do it again on the 28th instead!
Update on the spin instructor problem: I deleted his email by mistake (the one where he asked me to get a drink with him some time that week--two weeks ago.) So I never got to tell him that I would have to decline. I went to class today, and he came up to say hi to me. "So what happened?" he asked, referring to my no email response. I told him I'd deleted it (the truth, though it sounded lame). I was about to explain though, that I would have to decline the offer, when he asked "So what are you up to tonight?" I looked up at the cieling, and said "Oh, laundry." Which is annoying because it totally seemed like I was lying--anytime you look away from someone when they ask you a question, that usually means you are LYING. But I wasn't! I was up front with him though, and told him that I didn't feel comfortable going out other guys, and he laughed. Two minutes later, we were able to go right back to talking about how one should relax one's stomach muscles when spinning, and I was happy to have our old teacher-student relationship back.
I REALLY need to work on a project for work (one that I created for myself, not one that was handed to me), but this is the one night this week that I can just sit back and watch "That 70's Show."
Last week I was going a bit nuts with how I don't "do enough" which means that I was mad at myself for not having written a book yet, created an artistic masterpiece and moved up two rungs in the corporate ladder...But I need to breathe and just relax and do as my friend Laurie recently told me: Just be happy with what you're doing and RELAX.
Posted by lexzog at Mon, February 7 | Comments (0)
The Show Is Not Tonight!
Instead, it is on Feb. 28th! A Monday night as well...Same venue, same time...same host (moi).
Posted by lexzog at Mon, February 7 | Comments (0)
Thu, February 3
Come to My Show on Monday!
if you can't see the above image of my invite:
INNER MONOLOGUES III: How To...
8pm at Apocalypse Lounge
189 East Third Street
(btwn. Avenue A and Avenue B)
Come one come all. The beer is cheap and the girls are cheaper (Just kidding. It actually is quite an upstanding crowd.)
Posted by lexzog at Thu, February 3 | Comments (1)