andy, peel, 4square, the nose, locanda

oh my god, YOU GUYS, andy is blogging over at the huffington post! you know, the andy that got me into blogging way back when he was a comedy central intern? to whom i professed my love even though i'd never met him, in his comments section? i think asking his mom for his hand in marriage, actually. but then we hung out and he wrote all my birthday party invites, and then started this five jokes thing that i still enjoy and is still in my reader. so anyway, say you knew him way back when, before he was writing for the daily show or whatever he does next. (seriously, daily show people, hire this shit up.)

got a skin peel at the dermatologist. i have a famously high tolerance for pain. i passed a kidney stone once and just thought it was cramps. i get bikini waxes, regularly. masseurs often tell me that they work harder on me than most men because they know i can handle it. but this face peel? this using a cottonball to swab acid on my face to melt the top layer off (something they affectionately refer to as "frost") hurt like a BITCH. never again. 

so almost a year ago, everyone was talking about foursquare. at least, i felt they were. so much so that i'd claimed it had jumped the shark already. i was SO not joining this annoying sounding thing that everyone was obsessed with. i'm too cool for that. well, i'm sometimes WAY ahead of the curve as far as these internetty things go and now is when all the rest of the lay people are finally catching on and a year later it's actually blowing up. the thing is, i AM a regular. at a lot of places. could i be mayor? clearly. but what's the point? the people at these places (that i'm not naming because then it would make it far too easy to stalk me) all know my name, i get free shit and they treat me better than everyone else already! checking in or not, my presence is known. and i'd much rather that than be some person who never says a word to anyone but checks in all the time. sure, they're mayor but who gives a fuck? and what? they'll get a free beer if the owner is even savvy enough to know what 4sq is to start with? i don't know. maybe it's different for people who aren't outgoing. all i know is that i'll go to a place as little as two times and on my third visit they're greeting me by name. who the F needs foursquare when you're actually pretty socially graceful? my friend david, who goes out a lot, said, "i'm the mayor of two places and one of them is my house." so, again, what's the point? unless it's really a contest about how much one goes out? and how/why is that something i'd need to compete with someone for? i go out all the freaking time! note the bags under my eyes. i'd prefer to lose the game if it meant i'd get more fucking sleep.

speaking of internetty things: i passed by ricky van veen on the street today. why is he so cute? 

speaking of celebrity sightings: i saw william kentridge leaving MoMA the other day. i'm seeing the nose next week and seth coulter walls has suggested it's even better than he thought it was going to be. i like shostakovich and i like new opera stagings (i mean, how many times can one really see boheme and care about the visuals anymore? i suppose there was that one disastrous staging of bondy's tosca which everyone hated but at least it was INTERESTING) and kentridge is a genius so i'm sure it'll all be grand.  

my friend lien is in from LA so on the list of "must do" places was locanda verde (also on the list: balthazar at breakfast, del posto lunch, a dinner at joseph leonard, sunday brunch at cookshop). ted and his boyfriend came too. for as much as i like eating alone, having 4 people means you get to try so much more. and even though i've had everything on the menu, there are certain things (i.e. the roast chicken) that i've only had once. so we got a little bit of everything: the ricotta, the steak tartare, the meatball sliders, gigantone pasta with the sunday meat sauce, scallps with cauliflower and citrus and the chicken. the table next to us were having some sort of family dispute and yelled at each other the whole time, and didn't even eat anything. something about trust funds and we think one of them was a mediator. who knows. i feel bad for the server who was stuck with the dead table for two hours. everyone loved the food and the space and my host came to chat and then sent four desserts over  and said they were courtesy of the chef even though AC himself wasn't in the house (he deserves his weekends off). but anyhow, we got the lemon tart (i don't even lemon desserts but karen's tart is awesome) and the semifreddo and a walnut cake? and some budino type thing? we were so stuffed at this point i was having trouble focusing. so, YAY. for a no-fuss, no-attitude plain old GOOD meal.