tired.

waking up at 4:30, getting to the airport at 5am for a 6am flight (which, IMO is too early to show up but kate's parents were taking me to the airport and i wasn't going to nitpick on the time) and then going straight to work until 10pm is NOT A GOOD IDEA.

i could not even function and was delirious by the time i left. i tried to call kate but literally could not communicate like a human being.

when i got home the drug dealer opened the door for me (he used to hang out in the basement/courtyard which opens onto the sidewalk but now it's cold so he stays in the foyer of my building) and instead of giving him a dirty look like usual, i said, "thank you." i spent the walk up to the 5th floor shaking my head at myself for thanking the drug dealer that i HATE for letting me into my own home.

sidenote: speaking of the drug dealers, they make a mess in the lobby, are loud and just make the building feel unsafe even though i think they're only selling pot which, to me at least, is pretty harmless. if i thought there'd be crack addicts pounding down our front door, it would be another issue. they only catcall me occasionally, the regulars know to leave me the hell alone but i'd prefer not to have people selling drugs in my building. i've considered calling the police but am afraid they'd know it was me, break into my apt for retaliation, and steal all my beautiful clothes. what would you do?

when i woke up this morning i couldn't move my body. i tried to lift an am...nothing. tried to turn over...nada. so i lay there for another hour. had a voice mail from emily which consisted of nothing but her shrieking like a banshee. no words. and then the message ended. and for whatever reason, i've been laughing at it all morning. she is CRAZY.

also worth noting about my trip: a successful trip to nordstrom rack. a beautiful cropped little jacket with belled sleeves from laundry and a perfect button down puffed-short-sleeved black shirt from trina turk. all for less than $150. whee!

and a moment of silence

to honor the memory of a fierce woman.

i'm no expert on the subject (and, as with everything else, i'm sure cousin knows more about the politics in pakistan) but i'm afraid to see what happens without her.

uneventful return, thankfully

my trip back to nyc this morning went off without a hitch. i think karma owes me that one.

now i'm trying to figure out whether or not to go to new hampshire next weekend to do some last minute obama campaigning before the primary.

jewish boy genius is going to iowa to caucus for hillary which makes no sense for several reasons: 1.) he doesn't live in iowa; 2.) he used to be an obama guy; 3.) HE DOESN'T LIVE IN IOWA.

now i know there's a big whohaa going on right now over whether college students (who reside in iowa for 9 months out of the year) should be allowed to caucus. but boy genius is neither a college student nor a part time resident in iowa. i call that CHEATING.

however, if he were an obama supporter i'd probably be keeping my mouth shut. anyone out there with an iowa address they want to let me use so i can balance out boy geniuses cheating vote?

if you can't beat 'em, etc.

merry christmas

spent about 12 hours at the airport yesterday trying to get to chicago because i had a sneaking suspicion my 7:15 would be cancelled. i didn't get onto any flight all day due to overbooking. and my flight was cancelled. so i got out at 6am christmas eve. but almost missed my flight because i accidentally set my alarm for 5:10am. i literally was running to my gate as they were giving away my seat to the long standby list but made it just in time. phew!!!

 

so now i'm hanging at kate's with the dogs. yay!

 

merry christmas folks. safe and happy holidays, and most importantly, pleasant travels.

men and electronics

as i was at best buy today i saw a man picking up a 60 inch plasma flat screen television.

he looked so smug and sure of himself as he watched the two men pick up and carry his newly acquired penis out the door.

an end run around in 12 easy steps

1.) i buy a sweater at club monaco during friends and family. $129 for cashmere is good but it was originally $180. i buy it in black but secretly wanted the less practical purple one.

2.) i keep thinking about the purple sweater. regret not buying both during friends and family weekend.

3.) i go into a club monaco and they are all out of the purple sweaters!

4.) day after thanksgiving i go to another club monaco, the sweater is there! i buy it! for $180! ouch!

5.) i leave the tags on for two weeks in case i start to have buyer's remorse at the price and want to return it.

6.) last weekend i see they're on sale for $129. i ask clerk about price adjust, he says i have 30 days to do it.

7.) i bring in receipt for adjust. am told, "no! you only have 14 days. you have 30 days to return things."

8.) i say, "okay." and look for my sweater at the store and see they are out.

9.) i call upper west side club monaco and they put a purple size small on hold.

10.) the next day i go buy purple sweater for $129. (at this point i try to explain my problem and try to get her to let me return the sweater i just bought with my old receipt, she does not take the bait. fuming, i leave.)

11.) take the sale sticker off.

12.) go to another club monaco and return said sweater with my receipt for $180, thus getting back the difference, making me $50 richer. huzzah!

600 democrats walk into a bar...

saw jewish boy genius yesterday for a holiday party that attracted every democrat in the city (or so it seemed). he was wearing the same maroon v-neck sweater that he has worn EVERY TIME i've ever seen him. i know he has other shirts (he has an affinity for thomas pink) but that very well may be the only sweater he owns. it's weird. it was also his birthday which makes him like 22 or something.

he is running for office next year and he's already campaigning like crazy although, in his arrogance, he knows he'd probably win without lifting a finger just by being who he is: a young, reasonably attractive, jewish guy with a ton of experience and connections.

but that was, officially, the last holiday party that i have on my calendar for this year. i have a few parties over the weekend but these are just the fratty parties that happen every weekend. my friend chung is making moonshine margaritas for the occasion. and yes, the mere thought of a moonshine margarita is enough to make me want to vomit. and no, i don't think i'll even try it. on the upside, chung just bought a baby teacup terrier that he'll be bringing to the party so i'll be getting drunk on puppy love which will build up my tolerance for all the puppy love i'll get in chicago.

1980 Mouton Rothschild

my mom got me a bottle for christmas last year. i never check luggage and wasn't going to make it through security with a bottle of wine, and knowing the absolute uncertainty of the temperature in my little apt, i thought it was better to leave the bottle in the cool dark basement at my grandparents house. i'll be back there again this christmas and plan on picking up my wine. thinking that i had no idea when i should drink the thing, i went right to the experts. i e-mailed a few people, assuming that i might not hear back from any of them. you'd be surprised how much you can get just by asking as i got a response from every single one...

eric asimov, chief wine critic for the nytimes:

"It's a wonderful thing to have a bottle from your birth year. When a wine
peaks, however, is subject to many variables, primarily strength of the
vintage, and, even more important, how the bottle has been stored over the
years. If it's been kept in a cool place, that's very good. Your birth year
was not a great vintage in Bordeaux, so I would open that bottle sooner
rather than later -- as soon as you can do so with the proper feeling of
ceremony and extravagance. And I wouldn't worry whether the bottle was at
its peak or not. I'd simply celebrate how far that bottle and the person
have come in 27 years."

from a woman with some serious web articles on wine:

"Unfortunately this is what Robert Parker, jr. says about the 1980 Mouton Rothschild:

 

'This is an uninspiring effort from Mouton, notwithstanding the vintage conditions that were unfavorable. It is medium ruby in color, with a stemmy, stalky, unripe aroma, lean, austere, overly tannic flavors, and an astringent finish. Time may help, but I have my doubts. Anticipated maturity: Now. Last tasted, 10/83.'

 

But you never know, Jasmine, sometimes there are surprises. In any case the wine is now 27 years old and given that the vintage was not a good one for Bordeaux, it is nearly certain that it is over its peak. Given that, you can drink it now or save it for your 30th despite it all or look for some sorry sap on ebay that is willing to purchase it for his dusty museum collection and use the money to buy yourself a good bottle that will likely offer more drinking pleasure."

i thought these were incredibly nice responses and both were appreciated. mr. asimov's was damn touching, if i don't say so myself. so my little bottle probably isn't phenomenal but my mother, who knows zilch about wine, gets an A for effort. and i, unlike eric, don't have an expert's palate. verdict? i think maybe i'll open and decant it with kate and anthony while cuddling with the dogs on christmas eve.

i'll start saving for an '82 in honor of my brother who was was born that year, a year that, by all accounts, yielded some superb bordeaux...

i heart my friends

"hey, save sunday for a hurliday* dinner, i'll make a reso somewhere and send out the info this week." those were my friend colin's words last weekend. colin is in the core group of 8 that includes the gays and a few lady friends.

tuesday i get an e-mail, "i need your address to messenger you the invite." a messenger shows up and i sign for a padded envelope that contains a gorgeous invite sheathed in rice paper with gold labeling. it announced a "christmas sit down" at freeman's, "black and white holiday attire." and just like that, our casual dinner was turning into an event. colin also got to plan the menu.

we showed up and there was another party in our room. colin kind of pulled the "don't you know who i am" card which worked like a charm because his company does a lot of business at the restaurant. we were bought a round of drinks and the other people were kicked out to make room for us. colin disappeared and then reappeared to guide us to our private room where on the table he'd scattered pictures of us and had put photos of each of us, individually, in little stands at each place setting acting as our place cards.

we took turns talking about our fondest memories of the past year. our goals for next year. we regaled each other with tales of parties past. recounted our many nights of debauchery. talked about how lucky we felt to be in each other's lives.

on the menu: cheddar toast with watercress, endive and pear salad, pork with sauteed apples over a creamy polenta, mac and cheese, apple crisp and chocolate cake.

the food was phenomenal but the company was clearly the highlight of the evening.

*my friends have recently started talking like the target lady. all the time. i can no longer decide whether it's funny or annoying. also, tried finding a link to the target lady and can't find one anywhere on youtube! but if you haven't seen her, trust me, she's amazing.

remembering how many stupid people exist in this world

the guy in front of me at starbucks was holding this piece of paper with a few lines of writing on it. "oh, he must be picking up several drinks for co-workers or something," i thought.

he keeps reading it over and over, as if it were a speech to the nation that he was afraid of messing up. then i hear him say, "venti decaf hazelnut coffee with skim milk and 4 brown sugars."

?!

so on top of being a total idiot, he's also CLEARLY never been to a starbucks. 4 sugars? boy, you do that shit yourself at starbucks. these baristas ain't putting no sugars in your coffee!

he's totally flustered, the guy at the register is telling him that HE does the milk and coffee and the kid looks like he might pee his pants from the pressure. he's staring at his paper, the barista finally takes it from him and verifies that "yes, if you turn around, you'll find the milk and sugar right there." and the kid pays but he still looks terrified as he gingerly transports the coffee from the counter to the condiment bar. he does manage to decipher that the skim milk is marked "non fat milk" and adds some. but then he picks up 3 white sugar packets! WHITE. THREE. he carried it out like he was holding a 6 million dollar diamond.

this guy is obviously a total moron. but i couldn't help but wonder for whom he was getting coffee. i can't even imagine what kind of person, with what level of importance, would make me that afraid of getting a coffee wrong. maybe osama bin laden. maybe he was getting a coffee for bin laden. that's the only reasonable person who would incite that much fear. you have better suggestions?

it's a sign

in the past two days i've seen two of my loves on the street!

i walked past david remnick walking east on 41st street. i assume he was leaving the nytimes building which was right about where i saw him. we made eye contact and i thought, "i know him" and a split second later my head was screaming, "oh my god that was david remnick! i should stop him to tell him how much i love his magazine!" but then i'd look like a silly little girl and i must keep up the appearance of being a composed, classy gal.

then yesterday i saw a guy running down the sidewalk. here's a lesson folks, running on a nyc sidewalk isn't a great idea. there are too many people around to make something like that accident free. so i see this guy in a long black wool coat jogging down the sidewalk. i can tell he's running late for something because there's panic in his face. and while i'm noticing that panic i start panicking myself because "oh my god, that's joshua bell!" and so i start speed walking behind him. and before you call me a stalker, i wasn't stalking. i was walking south on broadway towards union square, in the same direction that he was speeding by. and i only "followed" him until we got to 19th which is where i had to meet em for dinner. and it's a good thing i had dinner plans because otherwise i definitely would have kept following him. and yes, THAT makes me a stalker.

barack the vote

my new political shirt (at least through february, worst case scenario). wheeee!!!

my cranky coolness

i almost forgot the highlight of my dance class: was learning what all the "cool kids" are doing these days, the soulja boy "crank that" dance.

apparently it's the new "electric slide" or something?

i feel so old and out of it...

looks 10 dance 3

we did a routine to britney's "i'm a slave for you" last night in my hip hop class at the gym. it's the one she did at the VMA's. it involved a lot of leaning over and throwing your torso all over the place.

and this morning i couldn't even sit up. i think i might have thrown my back out. or something similarly painful that's making me walk around the office holding my lower back and grunting every time i stand up because the pain is that bad.

i am getting old.

although, a note about the choreography: britney stole a little move (the forearms crossing 10 times fast in front of her face) from showgirls. it's the part where nomi's saying, "i'm not a whore. i'm a dancer." ironic that now britney is a whore and is not a dancer. deep thoughts, i know.

latkes, craigslist and duane reade

"The idea had been to have a "craigslist christmas" and we (the single gals) were going to post craigs ads to find dates to bring to our friend Ted's holiday party.

Nobody had time to find a craigs date but now we're at the party and figured we'd do a last minute "if you're cute and sitting home and want to meet some fun people and have reasonably decent social skills you should come by" ad.

So e-mail with a photo/facebook/myspace page and if we approve we'll send an address over. Plenty of wine and good times to be had! There are a half dozen cute single girls here. Cute, gainfully employed. You need to be the same, we're not shallow. Or rather, we're a tad shallow and decently realistic."

that was our post to craigslist on saturday night at ted's third annual holiday party. and it was true, we'd all meant to find dates on craigs beforehand but time got away from us. so in a drunken haze we threw the above ad up at 9ish. an hour later i had 20 responses, 12 with photos and 3 cute guys (if those were their real pictures to begin with). i sent ted's address to all three telling them to stop on by if they felt like it but none did. which is probably the best thing seeing that any of them could have been psychos and it was totally unsafe to just send his address over without any kind of verification that they're not ex cons.

but the holiday party was a total success. we did white elephant gift exchange on the condition that all the gifts had to be 10 or less (and many people went with the "less" option by bringing a box of candy canes: $.99 or an US Weekly. lame). turns out duane reade is a veritable play land when it comes to random things you don't need. among the gifts were a black barbie, the clapper, "my glam girls" makeup kit, some plastic reindeer that pooped m&m's, margarita mix and glasses, a "bulimia kit" which included one box full of junk food and another box with laxatives and a toothbrush (dual purpose, helping to make one throw up and also helping to freshen one's breath after they've thrown up), an eye patch, some condoms, juice boxes, a huge tin of popcorn and lots of random cosmetics. the clapper was popular as it was stolen the maximum of three times. as was a DVD of the neverending story. amazing.

ted made latkes with applesauce and sour cream. excellent. and katie's stuffed mushrooms were to die for. we also had spin dip. i heart spin dip.

sunday was wesley's choir concert at his church and we were too hungover to get drunk at brunch, therefore we weren't being shushed the whole time like last year. afterwards we watched ratatouille which was just about the cutest movie ever. almost so cute that i'd feel guilty killing a mouse in my apt from here on out. almost.

my coat

"oooooh! such nice jacket!" is the exclamation from my dry cleaner when i walked in to pick up some clothes yesterday.

and for whatever reason, i was particularly flattered. "it looks expensive..." she continued.

and like i always do, i played it down. "oh, it's searle, it was on sale."

"very nice. very nice." she said.

i left feeling quite proud of myself. this woman must see 2000 winter coats come in and out of her shop every season. the fact she made such a show over mine made me kind of happy with myself.

it's the little things...

some updates

so my internet at home has been non-existant. and i know i promised a bunch of thanksgiving pictures but i can't get a connection long enough to upload them anywhere so you'll have to trust me that the balloons were big and hovering and that the food spread was, indeed, gorgeous.

i've been trying to catch up on my bloglines to all those blogs i have subscriptions to but lately that consists of me finding 10 new posts per person (curse you nablopomo!) and having to scan and not being able to comment at all. and that sucks.

started a new job a month ago but it sucked and i was miserable so quit that for another new job that is much better. but the case is an important one and though they're really nice at this firm and we have tons of windows and they keep giving us treats and it feels like christmas everyday...they are intensely serious. the stuff i'm looking at is incredibly complicated and we're pretty deep in the middle of a bunch of stuff that doesn't allow much messing around with blogs. i can check e-mail but can't often respond. i'm feeling incredibly disconnected, especially politcally. esp when my man obama seems to be gaining some ground in iowa.

but some catching up! the night before thanksgiving brian brought me to a party that one of his clients throws every year, same time, same place. there are always oodles of famous people there. george clooney was there two years ago and i was praying for a repeat appearance. no george this year but we did get nigel barker at whose sight i almost faint every single time i see him. heather graham was there wearing a dress that was totally unflattering and almost made her look pregnant even though she barely has any tummy at all. and then in walked heath ledger. but my first reaction was, "oh my god, that guy is ugly! oh. wait. that's heath ledger!" his hair was shoulder length and obviously hadn't been washed in 2 weeks. maybe three. half of it was up in a ponytail which left the rest to look stringy and gross down his neck. he had on little round john lennon-like sunglasses and a big yellow plaid jacket. he eventually took his jacket off and if you stared only at his face and ignored the shit on top of his head, he got better looking again. and then in walked john krasinski and rashida jones. and i thought, "i have to go get his picture. i could never face nadia and syar again if i didn't."

and then more famous people kept walking in. and the more famous people who were there, the bigger the idiot i look like if i walk up to someone asking for a picture like a goddamn tourist. this is a party for cool people and celebrities. i told my friends what i was considering and they all said that they would not speak to me for the rest of the evening if i went up to him to take his photo. obviously, i was between a rock and a hard place. and i was tortured inside over it. that is, until the bartender came over with tequila shots for us. after that, the rest of the night was a tad blurry. and there was a point where john was in a small group and i still thought, "okay, maybe now would be a good time." and then i started to feel a little queasy and imagined myself throwing up on "jim from the office" and walked in the other direction. quite a smart decision, if i don't say so myself.

then brian and i had to get up at like 6am the next day. i was still drunk when i woke up. but we donned our brightest clothes (me, a fluorescent pink v-neck sweater, brian a kelly green shirt) and we walked over to Macy's where we had VIP tickets to sit in the grandstands. we were on the Macy's side of the street which means the cameras were constantly on us, but also that every time a float with a musician stopped to perform, we saw nothing but the empty backside of the float. the balloons were huge and cool-looking, the weather was sunny and we were able to communicate with our friends that work there via faux sign language and texts revealing gossip about the people performing. in all, it was a totally cool experience.

in other news, i've done a lot of christmas shopping for no on other than myself. this newest job pays well and so i've, for some reason, felt free to drop several hundreds of dollars on whatever item happens to catch my eye, several times a day. you do not want to see my credit card bill. it is UGLY. but BOY do i have the cutest new fall/winter wardrobe.

a few fun characters at this new job...a guy who talks, constantly, about three things 1.) his mother 2.) high school and 3.) the television show Lost. i, myself, happen to love lost but i haven't said a single word about it because i just want him to shut up. for a whole minute. just once an hour is all i ask. there is also a stand-up comedian who walks around all day making bad jokes, trying to find things to add to his routine. these jokes are terrible. in other news, i think i'm silently formulating a stand up routine based on bad jokes about this comedian. it's very meta.