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Tue, November 21

Minding My Manners

On Sunday night on our way home from dinner Brooklyn, J got on my case for talking with my mouth full. To be fair, I had told him I get the feeling that sometimes he silently judges my eating habits ever since the time he yelled at me for eating directly off of an appetizer plate of fried calamari instead of putting it on my own plate first. And I got SUPER PISSED at him because:
a) he should be so lucky to have me, period.
b) I hung out with his friends and family ALL DAY and entertained them with my wit and charm.
c) I don't get on his case for not unpacking the boxes that have been in the apartment for five months, or say, using two q-tips instead of one when cleaning his ears.
d) I don't yell at him for not cleaning the bathroom (his one chore) in a timely fashion while I'm the one to do the laundry, vacuum, and dust. I'm a veritable house mouse.

It was minor, but in the end, I think he was in the wrong for picking on me. He reduced a whole fun day of me listening to his friend's problems, hung with them for hours and didn't mind them tagging along with us on our couply day, to the fact that I talk with food in my mouth.

Which is really wrong of me, but that's neither here nor there.

I also discovered that I have a new nervous tick but it took one of Jesse's friends and a waiter in Brooklyn to point it out. I don't look people in the eye and tend to stare at a spot on their shoulders. The waiter got really hot and bothered by this. I asked him what he recommended more, the risotto or the fish, and instead of responding he yells out exasperatedly, "What?! Why do you keep staring at my T-shirt?!?" I had no idea I was staring at his T-shirt. It wasn't that cool of a T-shirt, jeez dude, calm down. Wierd, huh?

I told Emily about my inability to look some people in the eyes, and she said, "Now why do nervous ticks exist, but there aren't any confident or calm ticks?" Good point!

Posted by lexzog at Tue, November 21 | Comments (0)

Tue, November 14

Shows, shows, shows.

Mark your calendars because my brother Justin AKA "The Scientist" is going to be spinning on Tuesdays from 10pm-4am at Piano's starting next Tuesday, and every Tuesday until he um...leaves for Israel. His sets are a range of hip hop ,pop, rock, funk, 80s, the whole gamut. He's really talented, so you should really check him out. The name of his show is "The 1200."

I just got back from seeing my friend Sue's short film at Tom and Jerry's on Elizabeth. I was so impressed! I can't believe someone I know produced a film. It's funny to think that she was at my kindergarten birthday party, and now we're both doing our own shows in NYC. The name of her film is "Golddigging", and it is a silent film with a very cool avante garde jazzy soundtrack composed by an old high school acquantance of ours. I look forward to seeing the sequel...

Posted by lexzog at Tue, November 14 | Comments (0)

Sun, November 12

Being Polite

At a comedy show a couple of weeks ago, a singing comedian duo sang a song in which the refrain was something like, “nobody wants to read your blog.” They sang about how no one cares about what you did last weekend, what you ate, or what your political views are. Your coworkers only read your blog to be polite. (Well, on that last one—that’s not true. Some anonymous coworker of mine reported my blogging to my boss, and that most definitely was NOT polite.) So the thing is…I stopped writing here because I started feeling insecure. Who cares what exhibit I saw today? (But just in case someone does care, it was Picasso and American Art at the Whitney). Who cares that I bought amazing goat cheese at the Green Market, where the guy hawking it sang, “It’s just like cheddar, but BETTER!” Well you know what? My mom does. She reads this blog. And so does one lady in Paris. So I’m back…

Last night I went to La Caverna in the Lower East Side for Linz’s bday party. I was talking to Dan at the bar, and there was this guy next to us who looked like he wanted to ask the bartender for a drink. “Do you want to get in here?” I asked him. “No,” he said, smiling. “I wouldn’t want to ruin the chemistry between you two.” And then Dan and him started mock punching each other and smiling, so I realized that this must be a friend that Dan brought to the party. “Hi, I’m Alexis,” I said, reaching out my hand for a shake. “I know. I’m Andrew. You’ve met me like, ten times.” Oh shit. I remembered. I do this EVERY TIME I meet this guy. I can’t believe this happened to me AGAIN! I am horrible with names, but faces I never forget. This guy’s face goes in one eye and out the other. It’s like there’s this black hole in my memory when it comes to poor Andrew.

Turns out David W. (from Inner Monologues) was there too. And apparently there are only two bars in all of New York City, because when I left La Caverna to go to The Black Door for Aly’s bday party, who did I see at the bar, but David W. again!

I didn’t notice the line for the bathroom, so I pushed open the door to one of the restrooms. Oops. There was a dude, just standing there, peeing. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry,” I said, flustered. I looked to my left and noticed the long line of people glaring at me. Duh. So while I realized that I shouldn’t feel badly about walking in on a guy in the bathroom because it was his own fault he didn’t lock the door, a girl walked by wearing the most hideous dress. She was wearing something quite unflattering, with pockets on the front of the dress that only accentuated her extra wide hips. I noticed the guy on line in front of me give her a puzzling look. “Those were pockets on her dress,” I informed him, “Oh! Is that what those were? I couldn’t figure it out. That’s too bad.” “What’s too bad?” I asked him. “That she’s wearing that dress. Her hips are way to big for that dress.” Woah. I knew that girls were critical but I always assumed that guys couldn’t tell the difference from a dress or a burlap sack as long as some leg or some cleave was showing. Since we were already talking, and since this guy seemed to have insight into important matters such as pockets on dresses, I asked him why guys don’t lock the door when they’re in the bathroom at a bar. “Because they don’t really care. They’re standing with their back to you. All you’re gonna see is a guy with his back to you, so what’s the problem?” “Really? They really don’t care that anyone can see them peeing?” “Nah. And either they don’t care, or, it’s an invitation.” Hm. So guys leave the door open hoping some randy chick will just walk in and be turned on by a row of urinals? Sometimes men are very hard to understand.

Here’s an “only in New York” moment. On the subway coming home from work on Friday, a homeless lady came on the train and did the “I’m hungry I’m homeless but I don’t do drugs can you spare some food or some change?” speech. As she walked past a woman who was clearly ignoring her, she quipped, “Time to get your hair dyed again, sweetie.” Which kind of reminded me of Jessica Delfino’s joke about the homeless guy who commented on the fact that her outfit would look a lot better with a belt. “You know what would look good on you?” Jessica asks the guy. “A house.” Well I made sure to give the woman a dollar because I didn’t want her to criticize my looks and go and hurt my ego. God I can be so insecure…


Posted by lexzog at Sun, November 12 | Comments (0)