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Wed, June 28
Exclusivity
Posted by lexzog at Wed, June 28 | Comments (0)
Inner Monologues July 11th!
Designed by the lovely and talented Dan Cohen!
Posted by lexzog at Wed, June 28 | Comments (0)
Mon, June 26
Jessica Delfino Cartoon!
A must see!
Get Famous Today Cartoon
Posted by lexzog at Mon, June 26 | Comments (0)
Mon, June 19
Birthday Weekend!
My birthday week (ha ha) began with a store visit day with work where we check out stores in a particular area (this time it was Nyack) to see how the books are doing in the stores and how well our house is being represented in the stores. At the end of our lunch stop at Chillies, the servers gathered round our table and sang and clapped Happy Birthday. A suburban birthday party just like the old days (when we usted to lie about someone having a birthday just so we could get a free piece of pie at Baumgarts).
That night J and I met some of his internet "food friends" for pizza in Brooklyn at DiFara's. Right off the Q train, at the Avenue J stop. When we arrived, all the food had been ordered by the matriarch of the group. Boy was this a group of eaters. There were three people around my parent's age, two college aged girls and a twenty something girl. These people get together pretty often to savor the different tastes New York has to offer--and they take it SERIOUSLY. We had stuffed zuchini flowers, a calzone the size of a good Christmas wreath, and three pizza pies. We ate alllll of it save for one lonely piece of olive and sausage pie (and these weren't black olives, these were green olives imported from Italy, served whole but pitted. The old man who owns the place has been making pizza for almost 40 years. He has eight kids--some of whom help around the restaurant, but he NEVER lets them touch a pie. You should see him hobbling over to the oven, then hobbling over to the counter with a piping hot pie. He then carefully uses scissors to cut up fresh basil (grown on the window sill right there) and pours olive oil on the pie. He leaves fresh hot peppers in oil on the counter to dress the pizzas with. The pizzas take about an hour from time of order, to time of being ready. Worth the wait! Oh, and we saw David Blaine giving an interview while we were there.
Who knew that Luca Lounge would be such a perfect spot for a birthday party--or any party for that matter? Thursday night, Jules and Dara came over to my apt early so we could drink some white wine before heading out. And, so that I'd have some sort of an entourage when walking into the bar (nothing worse than entering your bday party alone). It turns out there was already an eclectric group of my friends already there...We slowly gathered people into the front of the bar, until the bouncer asked that we move to the back. I couldn't believe the "lounge area": It was huge! Nearly twice the size of an ordinary bar! And it was open to the courtyard so there was a nice breeze. I even got a few presents: A Mexican wrestling mask from Chien (for the day when Clara and I promise to participate in jello wrestling on his roof), a recipe box from Michele and a bag of goodies from Kheils from Franni and Danny. Even an old friend from high school showed up. I just had the best time.
The Mask.
Mommy, look!
Birthright Israel Crew.
The Girls.
My Original HomeGirls.
Awwww. E and J!
Friday night was my bday dinner with J. We met at Megu on Thomas St. This was quite a special event type of place. The restuarant was enormous. The main floor was maybe twice the size of Balthazar, and there was even another floor above the restaurant where a small lounge was situated, and the bathrooms. When you walk in, the wait staff shout at you, just like in a real Japanese restaurant. The male servers wear samurai skirts. There's a giant ice sculpture buddha in the middle of the restaurant, sitting under a heavy stone bell, and above a pool of roses. You can dip a large wooden spoon into the pool and pour the roses onto Buddha's lap as an offering. We had a bottle of "clear" sake and a number of little plates. My favorite was the tofu imported from Japan, made from a recipe that dates back 300 years that they order from one family. They serve it with a type of seed oil and lime. Its heaven. J sang me the entire happy birthday song when dessert came out, and it had a candle in it :)
In the car after dinner...
We met up with A. and Josh in Brooklyn and drove into Rockaway for a weekend at the beach. Saturday was pretty muggy for a beach day, and I spent most of it being lazy and taking naps. That afternoon I was sitting in the rec room with J's Grandpa, playing with his mom's tiny Maltese. Grandpa asked if A. was with Josh and I told him yes, they were at the beach. "Such a NICE girl," he says, eyes lighting up. "Yeah, she's great!" I agreed. Grandpa looked up to the heavens and exclaimed, "I just wish Josh would DO something about it!" "What do you mean, do something, I asked?" "MARRY HER!," he shouted. "Make an honest woman out of her!" "But," I countered. "They're not living together...They've only been dating four months! And she's only 22!" I couldn't help but laugh...and then wonder if he's said the same about me???
That night we took J's mom out to dinner at a seafood joint in Brooklyn. We sat outside overlooking the water, which was really beautiful until we started getting bitten by insects. On Sunday we met up with J's dad and wife for Father's Day brunch at Balthazar. They came by to see the "new" apartment, and to sign the papers we need to hand into the Co op board. Turns out J is going to have to move out of the apt for a while until the board approves of him living there. I just hope we get this resolved before MY move out date in August, and before we go to Israel. Just a tad worried!
Balthazar brunch was a lot of fun. I always have a good time with J's parents and I always like the opportunity it lends to describing our first date there. But Soho in that heat was torture. We kept ducking into high end stores just to steal some air conditioning (oh, and to let his dad's wife take a peek at the merchandise). We had to go back to The Rock to drop off the car we borrowed and pick up Chien who'd gone there to drop off his surfboard at J's cousin's garage.
On our way home we stopped at a mini golf place where the boys took a few swings.
Chien on the course.
Not much to report today. Friggin hot as anything. Thank goodness for AC.
Posted by lexzog at Mon, June 19 | Comments (1)
Mon, June 12
Tone Deaf
As if getting a year older is not enough, last night J was talking about the article in this weekend's Times about that new ring tone that older people cannot hear. When he played it for my roomate and I, both he and Dena could hear it BUT I COULD NOT. I thought maybe they were playing a joke on me. But every time they played it, each one could tell when it started and when the sound stopped. I heard NADA. I must be going prematurely deaf. Another year. Aging. And yet, I still get carded wherever I go! J says he'll have to trade in for a younger model. Countdown to the big 26 (psst. June 14!)
listen to the mosquito ring tone here
Students Find Ring Tone Adults Can't Hear
E-MailPrint Save
By THE ASSOCIATED PRESS
Published: June 12, 2006
Filed at 11:59 a.m. ET
NEW YORK (AP) -- Students are using a new ring tone to receive messages in class -- and many teachers can't even hear the ring.
Some students are downloading a ring tone off the Internet that is too high-pitched to be heard by most adults. With it, high schoolers can receive text message alerts on their cell phones without the teacher knowing.
As people age, many develop what's known as aging ear -- a loss of the ability to hear higher-frequency sounds.
The ring tone is a spin-off of technology that was originally meant to repel teenagers -- not help them. A Welsh security company developed the tone to help shopkeepers disperse young people loitering in front of their stores while leaving adults unaffected. The company called their product the ''Mosquito.''
Donna Lewis, a teacher in Manhattan, says her colleague played the ring for a classroom of first-graders -- and all of them could hear it, while the adults couldn't hear anything.
Posted by lexzog at Mon, June 12 | Comments (0)
Wed, June 7
Justin's Adventures in Interning
My brother is interning at an investment bank this summer. Here is a fun little internship story:
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So there's this rather fine looking intern at my office who sits about 30 feet from me. The past few days I've noticed her, but she has never looked my way. Today, I went into the pantry to fill up my water bottle. As I'm about to use the water cooler, I sense that some1 is behind me. I peek around, look back at what I'm doing, then do a double take and realize it’s the cute girl, waiting with her water bottle. Instinctually, I just say "Oh, I'm sorry", and get out of the way to let her use it. I pretend to make it look like I was just looking for something else in that corner, but I just scuddle away with an empty water bottle in my hand, and the water tap still flowing from the spout onto the floor. At this point, it looks quite awkward. I quickly make it to the fridge to pretend as if my only purpose in this trip to the pantry was to pour a glass of milk. As she's filling her water bottle, I quickly take a paper cup and grab a carton from the fridge. I turn to her, while pouring my drink to the brim…"So, are you new here", I say with a proud smile on my face." She says to me, as I go for a gulp of my refreshing beverage while holding the carton in my right hand as if I'm in a commerical, "So, you like drinking half-AND-half?"
I'm not sure how I got out of that situation, but it involved a small conversation, a laugh or two, a "C ya around!", and a nervous, "yeah…" from the lady.
Posted by lexzog at Wed, June 7 | Comments (0)
Sun, June 4
Isn't She Lovely...
I woke up today with a hangover so bad, that I was a little concerned about putting on my high heels. Not like I had much of a choice though because today was one of my best friend's bridal showers. And I, trying to be the helpful bridesmaid that I am (not) at least wanted to get to the shower early in case anything last minute needed to be done. I dizzily got dressed, downed six advil (which didn't help in the least), and walked to MUD to get a giant latte with J. Though I was ingesting all hangover cures I know of (caffeine, advil, water, and a sip of sangria at the shower i.e. "the hair of the beast") I knew full well that my brand of hangover doesn't do the cure thing. It just rides itself out. Like, all day.
On the subway to my friend's future mother in law's apartment on the upper east, everything was annoying me. I wanted to curl up in bed but no, here I was in a sheer, exposing summer dress in not so summery weather, on a train that was making all local stops where each stop is preceeded by a giant lurch that made me want to vomit. A group of perky midwestern looking types in some kind of team t-shirts with the statue of liberty on them, and sensible "tennis shoes" were mapping out routes that as a New Yorker, I knew weren't the fastest ways to get where they wanted to go. But they were annoying me. Just the look of them. And my head hurt, so I decided not to help. When they got off, they were replaced by an angry looking woman who wouldn't stop sniffling. I hate those people. Get a tissue or stop being obsessive about it. Its like, every twenty seconds (I timed it) I'd hear "sniff, sniff." Ugh.
I get to the shower, and the moment I walked in I knew I was in mother in law's bad favor. I was half an hour late. Not like there was anything I could have done to help the event short of creating a rainbow outside. I did my best at faking perky. The party room looked like what I can only dream my own wedding might look like, or at least, with that same attention to detail (I don't think my future husband would want a pink themed wedding. Just a guess.) But picture this: Pink balloons everywhere. Pink rose petals on the floor. Giant blown up pics of K "thru the years" and, AND! a giant crossword puzzle with fun facts about her like, "3 down: Type of flower K hates" (answer: tulips). K's favorite foods were in circulation by the wait staff: Crab salad on endives and mini potato pancakes. On a table was a spread of her favorite snacks, with little place cards next to them that read, "K loves cheese," or "K loves pickles". The centerpiece of each table had bridal Barbie. Every chair had a pink silk pashmina wrapped around it.
And so, when the mother in law came by our table to pour some remoulade onto each of our plates I couldn't help but tell her, "R, this is the most perfect event ever!" At that exact moment, the mother in law drips some remoulade on my friend Lara's forehead. Lara, trying to be polite, kept a straight face until the mother in law went away as remoulade dripped down her forehead, over her eye, and plop, right onto her blouse. We completely LOST it. For ten whole minutes we did instant replay of the disaster, starting with my "This is the most perfect event ever!" and reenacting Lara's face as sauce dripped down it.
Halfway through the main course, the mother in law got up to sing a song. "I know I have a bad voice, and that is why I choose to sing," she prefaced. And then followed her own ad-libbed version of "Isn't She Lovely? and it went something like this:
"Isn't she lovely?
Now that the day is nearly here,
Isn't she lovely
She is such a dear.
Isn't she Nerrrrrrvous?
Soon she will be a bride..."
And so on. Glad we were able to video tape part of it. If every I am in a crummy mood, I think watching that performance would instantly cheer me up.
As the guests started to leave the party, I looked around at the embarassment of riches all around me. Every detail down to fake diamond rings on the table, this mother in law had thought of and put together herself. What compels a person to put such effort into a bridal shower? One of the other bridesmaids, Sue, said, "I think mother in laws take all their anxiety and stress and put them into parties like this. Bridal showers and rehearsal dinners." And then it hit me: We were sitting in R's anxiety. The balloons above our heads were anxiety over losing your one and only son to "another woman." The giant cup cakes, tiramisu and fruit salad: Anxiety, anxiety, anxiety (but at least those are edible anxieties.)
We the bridesmaids got yelled at a few times. Apparently bridesmaiding is not my calling. Sadly for K, she's stuck with the bridesmaid school drop outs. We couldn't quite figure out how the gift opening was supposed to work, until R reminded us: "Girls!" she barked. "What happened to the assembly line we talked about?" By the time the presents were opened, Noa was sweating, Sue's hair was wild, and I was a hot mess.
The throbbing in my head has settled down now to a dull roar. I am never drinking again, or, at least until my birthday (June 14!).
Posted by lexzog at Sun, June 4 | Comments (0)
Thu, June 1
Downpour!
Tonight my right eye knew it was about to rain before I did. For some reason when it rains, my eye occasionally starts itching, then swells so that the lid makes me look like Quasimoto. Its like I'm some old man with a war injury that starts "acting up right 'fore a storm." I left the gym in Soho and stepped into torrential rain. Rain so bad that the streets emptied out as people huddled under awnings. Ten minutes passed and it still didn't let up. People who had given up skipped down the sidewalk surrenduring to getting soaked through and through. After fifteen minutes of standing in the dry refuge of a Banana Republic awning, I decided I'd have to head into the storm at some point. Might as well be now.
Getting home was no easy feat. My umbrella is the dinky drugstore kind--the ones that only cover your head and can't withstand more than a light breeze. Worse, I was afraid I'd get hit by lightning while holding it. So, because of my paranoia, I walked sans umbrella. I fumbled down Spring St., weighed down by all my bags, trying to cover my ears from the thunder, and dodging huge pools of water. My pants were so wet they sagged under my sneakers. My sneakers came untied but I didn't care. The lighting flashed so bright it was nearly blinding, followed by a sharp crackling of thunder. I hid in the shelter of a building entrance on a dark street. Ran across Lafayette. Hid under the fire station building. My eye was swollen shut. I didn't care. How does it take an hour to walk from Soho to the East Village? This was how. Almost home, but man, where the hell was my apartment? The rain was coming down HARD. My brand new white Adrien Vitadini bag was soaked. Finally, in the shelter of my building, I prayed I wouldn't run into anyone halfway decent looking. I hoped Jack, the doorman, wouldn't ask me why I was wearing sunglasses in the rain.
Sigh. Home.
So last night, in the midst of a huge migraine, J called with a "good story!" He'd gone to dinner at Jarett's house, and one of the dinner guests works for Isabella Fiore. She had a bag of size seven sample shoes: Just my size! J picked out an awesome sounding orange pair. He was very proud of himself, walking home, when he looked down at the shoes and noticed one little problem: He'd picked up two right foot shoes! Doh.
Sex ed conversation at lunch this past Saturday in Jersey: In attendance were grandpa, mom, Ash, me, and Ash's friend Marisa. Marisa was telling us about the horrible overnight trip their 6th grade class had gone on last week.
"The food was horrible!" she said. "Every meal was like, barf on a plate. Everyone was anorexic the whole trip."
"But the worse thing was," she continued. "One of our counselors was actually a....HETEROSEXUAL," Marisa said gravely.
Grandpa, mom and I all looked at each other, eyebrows raised.
"He was a what?" I asked.
"A heterosexual. And he said some REALLY disturbing things to us."
"Wait," I said. "Do you know what a heterosexual is?"
Marisa looked at me shyly. "No, not really."
"It means a person who likes people of the opposite sex."
"Oh." She said. "Well, he was like, a man on the bottom and a woman on the top."
"Ahhh. You mean a transexual?" I asked.
"I think so....Yeah."
God bless the children.
Posted by lexzog at Thu, June 1 | Comments (0)