mishmosh of updates
frustrated about how hard it is booking a resy at babbo? it takes everything in me not to loudly gloat about my unfettered access to last minute resys there...yes, i have friends in good places ;)
remember this guy? the one who kept saying he was straight? i get at text from justin around 2am, "pi is at the ritz with a guy!" the ritz is a gay bar, obv. they all start talking and the guy calls himself pi's boyfriend but also says that pi still tells people he's straight/bi. apparently a bit of denial on his part.
my slumlord management company? they've started to care, all of a sudden. we now have security cameras installed in all the common areas. i was shocked to see their concern for our well-being until i got a letter in the mail. "anyone caught selling or harboring drugs on the property shall be found to have materially breached the terms of their lease and will be evicted." so they only care about catching the drug dealers so that they can evict the family's whose sons are doing the drug dealing. they want to evict those families because almost the entire building has lived there for over a decade and their rent is probably like $3.00 a month. but you know what? who gives the fuck what their motivating factors are as long as they get the dealers out of the lobby!
david chang, why dost though forsake me? not only am i not eating there for friends and family, i can't even get tipped off to the online reservation website. and i think i had an orgasm while reading this.
i get a voicemail: "hello jasmine! it's your stylist and your asshole friend. i will be answering my phone all day, i promise! we will get your hair cut this weekend. love you, call me" so zeki is back to the land of the living and camping out at the UES salon he rented a chair at ages ago.
i don't lose things. i've never once lost a wallet or my license. or even my keys. i might misplace them but they're always somewhere safe, usually under a pile of clothes somewhere in my room. i'd run to the grocery store with only my keys and my license and credit card. the next day, said cards were not in my purse. "oh, they're prob still in my pocket of my jeans." i get home, no cards. i start to flip out thinking about how, if i really lost my card, that they'd had 24 hours to use it. i start scrambling for the phone number for citibank and then remember that i don't lose things. i start pulling at the pile of sweaters that the jeans had been thrown on top of and found them! phew. nyc DMVs are a pain in the ass.