Chatroulette, v-day

after a group viewing of LOST this week we started talking about chatroulette. julie wanted to try it so we brought the laptop out. things started okay. we "nexted" a few dick pictures. some fratty guys "nexted" us. the screen will just go black if they don't like you. justin and i were front and center so men and women who were alone and wanting to flash each other some skin, weren't interested in us. we found a french guy where i practiced the few phrases that i knew how to spell (speaking french is so much easier than writing it...that's what happens when  you don't actually take lessons and just pick it up here and there, i suppose). then we came across a kermit the frog puppet who put some lotion on his hands and proceeded to jerk off. we totally watched kermit masturbate for several minutes. it was hilarious. then we came across some guido, mid 20's. he types: "aren't you a little old?" and then "creeper" and nexted us. i got called OLD and CREEPER by some dude who was probably like 3 years younger than me. we died. and then decided that YES, we were, indeed, probably too old for this. that being said, we were big photoswappers so this is right up our alley. julie and i tried a few days later and met a cute boy in miami and a sexy older man who lived in perth and showed us pictures of his brothers, and walked us around his house and showed us his boat. and the stripper pole in his garage? *sigh*

 

i'm never squeezing a baby out of my chachee. kate is in and out of the hospital and i sit next to someone who is due in april. did you know your nipples turn purple? and your gums could start bleeding like crazy? and, THIS is the kicker, some people's feet swell and never get back down to their normal size. on top of the whole baby weight stuff. i can't imagine not fitting into the $4K worth of shoes i own. i LOVE my shoes.

 

i'd thought i'd recognized the guy at table down the booth from us at faustina. nate appleman!

 

went to the party for the CFDA finalists. 50 beautiful men just stood on pedestals while we all supposedly admired the handiwork of the clothes they were wearing. we, of course, started mini relationships with our favorites. "i want that one to get in a fight for me." "that one is a good kisser" "that one with the leather bomber, i want  to ride into the sunset with me on a harley." our favorite was this guy. GOD. so hot. my second favorite was one that reminded me of ryan gosling. at first i hesitated, wondered if there was something wrong with me staring down these gorgeous things, objectifying them like that. then i remembered that i'm a WOMAN in NEW YORK CITY. being objectified is basically a part-time job, forced upon me by the sleazy men of this city. i can't count how many times a day i'm cat-called or just stared at in a way that's creepy. and these guys? they get paid to stand there and be looked at. i'd get cat called all freaking day if i was getting paid $5 a shot for that shit.

 

double issue of the new yorker this week, which means i can finally catch up. and let's not even talk about the pile of mcsweeneys. because, seriously, i'm lucky if i read the exerpts in the e-mails all the way through. when i'm unemployed i'll go swimming in mcsweeneys

Princess bride at cabrito's movie night. Ate a personal best SIX tacos and my favorite was tongue?! Inconceivable!!

 

my valentine's day was spent loving myself, i guess. no, not THAT way. get your head out of the gutter. brunch at joseph leonard made me miss working in restaurants. there's something about the pace and energy in a well-run place. the owner handed a hostess $20 to run out and get more croissants. they were slammed sunday morning. were almost going through bloody mary mix faster than they could make it. from the west village i strolled to soho, sans ipod, and fell in love with the city all over again. you forget how much you lose by tuning out of the city's sounds and into your playlist. the artist talking about his inspiration to some passersby on west broadway. the bebop group on prince street across from j.crew. my favorite singapore importer has gorgeous cream frocks that i'll try to buy on sale. intermix, who no longer has the gorgeous suede brian atwood pumps now has sergio rossi peeptoe platform pumps but you'd be better off with the original YSL incarnation which would be 100% more comfortable and 60% more timeless. ginger citrus tea at balthazar. little pink hearts painted on the sidewalk on both sides of broadway between prince and spring, a small reminder that it was, indeed, valentine's day. decided to satisfy the craving for linguine with clams at esca, which boasts the most convivial bar in town. i've written about it before but things haven't changed an ounce. i was sat next to a longtime regular and friend of the chef. another regular, a 24 year old actress on the other side of him. they immediately started offering tastes of their food even though they didn't yet know my name. we were poured tastes of barolo as we chatted with the chef about where the best bbq in the city was (his answers were all places in kentucky and texas and states NOT new york). the florist came by and soon he was finishing off my pasta and trying my neighbors bay scallops. he returned with flowers (bunches of gorgeous calla lilies) for me and the actress. he does flowers at del posto too, so i had start raving about their lunch. the chef found out i was going to vancouver and gave me the name of someone to call to set me up at restaurants out there. she owns a fantastic cookbook store and knows EVERYONE in food worth knowing. and i have her number on speed dial. moscato d'asti was poured, an affogato ordered and hugs exchanged with friends new (me) and old, as we all departed.

 

i heart new york.