Outside it may be raining, but in here it's entertaining.

So far today Co and I have been watching banned Looney Tunes and Betty Boop cartoons. God I always hated Betty Boop. And "offensive" commercials. Love the one above.

So the store is closing its doors forever this Friday, it's official. BUT...I still get paid for next week. I think I'm going to do a little temp work, though, since extra cash would be nice. I would LOVE to just dick around next week watching movies, but that would hardly be a good idea.

Tonight I have Sherrybaby (with the gorgeous Maggie Gyellenhaal), Freedomland (I know, I know, but I had to see for myself), The Groomsmen (which I WOULD HAVE watched this weekend if Netfux hadn't taken THREE extra days to send it to me...shit, I wasn't even going to watch this because I have totally given up on Ed Burns, but two people recommended it...we only had it one week at the Angelika...I'm going in with mixed expectations...), and This Film Is Not Yet Rated all waiting at home. The last one got a fairly decent review by Cinemaslave Joe, but I think it'll just piss me off. And my biggest complaint has always been that nudity gets a much harsher beating than violence (and then throw in the whole indie/mainstream battle and it's just worthless).

I'm dreading my dentist appointment tomorrow. They called to confirm my 9:45am appointment and I said hey, great, she said, hey do you want to come in earlier? Yeah, why not. How about 7:15am. I gaped, agreed, hung up. And now I'm afraid I misheard her. I mean seriously, what dentist is there ready to go at 7:15? If you were a dentist would you be there that early?? Jesus that's early for someone to be scraping my teeth and shoving awkward pieces of plastic in my mouth for X-rays. What a grand morning tomorrow shall have.

I'll see if I can find more odd things to post as the day goes along...

My favorite is Cherry Chocolate Garcia... except technically I think it's a frozen yogurt.

Well, four out of five isn't bad. And no one saw that coming: Dreamgirls getting nixed and Little Miss Sunshine going in. I'm kinda glad Dreamgirls didn't get the best pic nod (cause it sucked), but that only made room for another mediocre film. And three of the five will be on DVD by the time the show rolls around. Which makes it easier for me, yeah!

It also occurs to me I never finished up my "I Hate" list. I think I left off at no.7?

#7. Assholes who don't wave.

I know these are supposed to be from childhood, but screw it. I've been driving for 11+ years, so whatevah. Everyone in TX (and most places, really) drive like shit. It's hard enough to contain the rage. And yet, amazingly, you can do the stupidest fuckwit thing ever to me in traffic (aside from hit me) and you know what? If you WAVE the "sorry, I know I am an assface, moo moo!" wave, it all melts away. So easy. And I nearly always let people in--if you don't wave (because really, NO ONE lets you in down here), you're a fucker. Period.

#8. Dallas Radio.

Blows. It's all owned by Clear Channel, it's all the same shit. It all sounds like eight different varieties of Nickelback, whom I loathe. And before you call me old, I never liked the radio here even when I was younger. Then it was fucking grunge. And really, even if I enjoyed listening to what is the music equivalent of an ass spackling the back of the toilet, they play the same shit over and over! Austin radio was minutely better (ok, tons better, but from what I understand there are cities out there with radio stations that play actual variety, local music, whatever), but Dallas is a positive black hole for radio. I refuse.

D listens to the talk radio station here, which is perhaps the worst of all. The afternoon guy, in particular, is the most gigantic arrogant twatface. I think he tried to pay some small town around here to change its name to his name? D doesn't like him, but tunes in regardless. It baffles me. I guess the talk radio station here does have Love Line, but again, not worth it.

Bless the ipod. (And before that, my portable CD player).

#9. Assfucks who embarrass me as a Texan/American.

Again, this isn't really from childhood, but you could say it stems from it. In elementary school, I really hated any questions along the lines of, "Where do you go to church?", "Do you believe in God?", etc. Or in third grade when the teacher made us have a moment of silence before lunch which was the thinnest fucking facade I ever saw, and I knew it even at that age. I still kept my eyes open and just kinda looked around and waited for lunch.

As an adult, it's mostly ignorant jerks who make me cringe. Like here in the DFW metroplex, the city of Farmers Branch has made English the official language and anyone who cannot speak English can be arrested. Amazingly, they are being sued. Fox News reports that to help out the Farmers Branch legal defense, this "radio personality" from the big local Christian station raised an obscene amount of money by selling these shirts:



So. Embarrassing.

While I hardly support toting guns, I support stupidity even less. So can we just blast a hole in anyone wearing these things?

Every time I meet someone who falls into this category I think, "Ah, yes, you're the reason the entire world hates us."

I have no idea what #10 is. It won't be the biggest, baddest one, just something that occurs to me during my long-ass commute that's good enough for a bitchrant.

But in the spirit of bitching, here is some wonderful writing, sent by my dad nearly every year, yes! The 50 Most Loathsome People of 2006.

Is it naughty???

I'm trying to make myself feel better, ok? Can you BELIEVE that's Nathan Fillion at the bottom? What the fuck is that New Kids on the Block pose? Whatever, like I care, still hella hot. I mostly included that one to make Triana giggle.

And whenever I need a laugh, I always re-watch this clip my dad sent me, like, a year ago. They totally lose it.

This shit's bananas!

Jesus Christ. I just had to go and fuck with it, didn't I?

Much the same way I might whimsically dye my hair I suddenly thought, "Hey! Why not Beta?" and well, here I am. I still have a dorky template. I was hoping I could do more cool things and well, I can't. At least not that *I'm* aware of.

It said it would save my old template *in case* and while it doesn't seem to have done that, it also only deleted my "Worthy Flicks for Jan 07," which figures since I just updated it the other day. Bastards.

I wanted to upload a pic for the background or behind the title, something for a little oh I don't know, PERSONALITY...and you can upload a picture but it just awkwardly jams it in there. The hell would anyone want that?

Grumble. Oh well, at least I didn't lose more than that. Like the whole blog.

The greatest TV crossover since the Flintstones met the Jetsons.

So if anyone missed The Colbert Report Thursday with Bill O'Reilly, I've still got it TiVOed; you should come over and watch. So classic. I did not see The O'Reilly Factor (they guest starred on each other's show), but as CNN pointed out this morning:

It may have been a greater error allowing Colbert into the Fox News headquarters, located near the "Colbert Report" studios in Manhattan. Colbert smuggled a microwave out of the green room, a bounty which he proudly displayed at the end of his show.

You're only making me refill the napkin holders because of my firmly held beliefs on the subject of ass to mouth.

Oh yeah, so the other day when it snowed, I got to watch a few movies. First up was The Girl in the Cafe, as I make my way through my unseen Billy Nighy flicks.



As a bonus it has Kelly MacDonald, cuter than ever. The movie is actually kinda cute, too. It's got two awkard characters, a little May-December (are those even the right months?) romance and some watered down sentimental politcs, which betray it for the made-for-TV movie it is. But British made-for-TV is better than American made-for-TV, as always. And it's set in Reykjavik, which is a little weird because it's for a G8 Summit meeting and not only am I pretty sure that Iceland is not one of the 8 nations, I'm also pretty sure those 8 nations are the only ones to host the Summit? I could be wrong, I was a film major.

Anyhoo. Great performances, absolutely. I liked it even though I kinda hated The Message.



Gideon's Daughter was up next in the Netfux queue, but then Mr. Nighy went and won a Golden Globe for it the other day and now it's on "Super Long-Ass Wait" or whatever. So they sent me the first disc of season 3 of The L Word, a show of which I cannot believe we're in the third season. It's really not good. But we keep watching. (And mocking, of course).

Then for me, it was a return to Grizzly Man, which I still love. D had not seen it, and that was just unacceptable.



I still feel exactly the same way about it. This guy was such a freakshow, but hey, a good guy and he really did seem to know what he was doing. He really did just happen to run into a bad bear and yes, I'm sure that was bound to happen sooner or later (which brings us back to the original argument, Hey, asshole, what are you doing trying living with bears?) Doing it for thirteen years before getting eaten says something. I think.



The fox moments are still some of the best footage ever. And jesus does this look good on my TV. It really is some gorgeous footage of Alaska.

And then we watched Clerks II, which we both saw in the theatre. It has about three bad scenes and boy do they suck. Real good for tossing firewood on or taking a wee and not having to pause it. But the rest of it is really great. At this point, it's making my top ten for the year. I hope that as I wind up my viewings of 2006 something a little more meaningful knocks something sillier off, cause at this point, my ten has a few too many goofy flicks. But hey, they made the biggest impression this year, what can I say?



Going to have to buy it, though, to get through all the hysterical commentaries.

This may very well be the stupidest man on the face of the earth. Perhaps we should shoot him.

Today's post is brought to you by Nevis.





Nevis is conical in shape, with a volcanic peak at the centre. The island is fringed by long strands of golden sand beaches and has a coastline intermittently protected by coral reefs. The colour of the sand is a result of the mixture of coral, foraminifera and volcanic sand. The most famous beach is the 4-mile (6.44 km) long Pinney's Beach on the west coast.

Thanks, Wiki!

Oh, and: The majority of the approximately 12,000 inhabitants of Nevis are of African descent. English is the official language and the literacy rate, 98 percent, is one of the highest in the Western Hemisphere.



In trying to learn these airport codes, I'm often left wondering things like, "What the fuck is Nevis?" The answers to most of my questions turn out to be islands, not unlike Nevis. I thought it might be nice to know where some of these places are...

And now that we know, who's coming with me?

Assuming I still have a job offer there...I sort of bunged up my medical this morning. Actually, first I would have to explain the interview to really illustrate how one little slip-up could mean they don't want me anymore. And it's really not that interesting--I know it sounds like a good premise, I mean, there are only so many things one can do at one's medical. I did not urinate on the wall, for one thing. I did, however, fail to bring the job offer letter along with me, which is a far tamer and fairly lame screw-up. The hell was I supposed to know? Who the hell are they to not have that info anyway?

But first, the beginning. So for the original interview there were ten of us. They initially gave us these "clerical" tests which only made me realize it has been many years (I wish it had been more) since I had to bubble in little test bubbles. Like a scan-tron. Two people failed and they left. Then there were eight. They told us the initial shift hours (due to lack of seniority, these could also be referred to as "little bitch hours") and someone else left. They then had the remaining seven of us answer three questions. I forget the first one (those lame interview questions are always the goddamn same), the second was a scenario (I answered that one first, since I knew six out of seven people were going to have to make a regurgitated answer sound good), and then a stupid personality question that only dumb bitches would ask because seriously, who gives a goddamn flying fuck what magazine you would want to have your picture on and why?

We were then sent out of the room and were to be called in one by one. After doing this with three people, they stopped bringing people in. There was a longish pause. And then they brought the remaining four of us in and offered us the job. I have honestly no idea what the other three people did that turned them off--all I can deduce is that perhaps they did not answer with the amount of alacrity required and/or they didn't have enough personality (I think that only because one girl truly did have NO personality whatsoever...except for when she revealed that she probably vacuums twice a day).

So you really don't have to do much to get axed at this stage in the game. Which is why forgetting a job offer letter in order to process the medical "exam" might qualify as nixing material. The beauty of it was that they wouldn't let me re-schedule for tomorrow morning. Once you're there you can't re-schedule. LOVE this reasoning. So I had to call the manager who hired me (what a great start!) to get her to fax the letter over. I had to leave a voice mail. At this point, I could conceivably have been there for the rest of my life. Luckily, D was closing today. I called, woke him up and had him fax it from, hell, I don't even know where he had to go. When I asked the useless oaf-woman behind the desk if she'd gotten it, she said she'd check in a minute. Meanwhile, D was waiting because he didn't want to drive away if it didn't go through. Five minutes later I explain this to her and she kinda waves me off, "Oh, it's fine."

IF IT'S FUCKING FINE THEN WHY ARE WE DOING THIS GODDAMN CHARADE?? Wait, "it's fine, you don't have a job here anyway?" or "It's fine, I'm sure it came through??" WHAT, BITCH? I went through with the exam so if it really was all a charade and they don't intend to keep me then man, they REALLY suck.

The bitch of it is that the manager didn't need to know any of this. If this were a bad sitcom I would have spent the rest of the episode trying to find her office and delete her voice mail.

I got to work around 11:30 (after stopping at one of our competitor/friend camera stores because our film processor officially died last week and they're processing our rolls for us for a very cheap rate. They've been around as long as we and are kind of stringing me along that they might have a job for me which, at this point, I'm still not sure if I want/need. Every time I pick stuff up I can't get over how awkward and weird their processor guy is and how much I would hate working with him. He's the most awkward but nice mumbler; a thousand dollars says he's single. And we didn't fix our own processor because we'd have to backorder the part and well, what's the point there?). Anyhoo, by then the feeling of wanting to pummel useless oaf-woman had mostly diminished.

It's a little hard to work, though. Most of the print work is stuff I, well, just don't want to do! And my co-worker/co-lab manager (shall we call her Co?), who usually has a mule-like work ethic has sort of given up and it's hard to say which of us is doing less work. Example. Cinema Mark has a compulsion to play with things around the store and frequently carries around a piece of a tripod we all refer to as "his stick." We hid it and he still has not found it. Also lately, he's been playing with a blue rubber ball. Co and I were so bored yesterday that we stole it, wrote up a ransom note in Photoshop and (when he didn't bring us coffee after lunch as was clearly specified in the note) started taking pictures of the ball in perilous situations (held above the urinal, for one) and left them around his work area. I liked the one with it strung up in the airhose. After he left for the day, Co had Pedophile Ed (who had no idea what we intended to do with it or what was even going on) hold both the stick and the ball while she took a picture. I took it into Photoshop and scrawled, "FEELS SO NICE" across it with "So taut...Almost fragile..." in the body of the email.

Did I mention it was a slow day?

And non-inventory things continue to disappear from the store. There are more tools, crap, odds and ends, crap, you name it, in that store. Co has a whole bag of stuff. There's not much I have my eye on aside from the "Darkroom" sign. Well, and I may or may not be consuming a bottle of Chardonnay that had been in the ex-owner's old office (which became the copy room for shooting ebay stuff, making copy negatives, etc.) for God knows how long. This is the ex-owner who left and filed bankruptcy six months ago. And it may or may not be surprisingly tasty. Clearly it had been abandoned. Not that I'm drinking it.

Damn. I have all the ingredients for a real dinner but I'm kinda craving fried pickles. Don't worry--D woke up and faxed me my papers. Of course I'm going to make him a nice dinner.

Nice place. Come here often?

fuckfuckfuck.



I tried to post a review of Kontroll on BSL, but when I tried to submit it, it denied me and ATE my review. And I KNEW!!! just as I clicked on the little save button, I thought, "I REALLY should have copied and pasted that first." Oh well, next time.

I like the new format, though.

Anyway, this was a Hungarian film about the ticket inspectors in the Budapest subway system. Really impressive. Simple enough story, but the characters (including the subway) and the look really make it worth watching. Lots of great shots and moments. Has its darker side, for sure, not to mention a fairly vague ending (which is not annoying).

It keeps coming back to me and I enjoy it more as time passes. A good recommendation from my dad. It will merit more viewings, for sure.



Finished the first half of Prime Suspect (The Final Act, or Chapter, or whatever the hell it's called). God is it sucking.

Time to check the mail, maybe the mail faerie brought me Netfux. If the mail even made it here today...

Last time I saw Harry he was wearing a blue sweater and an idiotic expression. The sweater was new.

My ass ain't goin' nowhere.



So I had a drug test this morning with my airline (which I would so object to if I really cared at all). D left around 5:15 in the AM to get to work. I'm chugging a glass of water around 7:20am (you know, trying to make the forseeable future as easy as possible) when I catch a glimpse of my yard through the sunroom window. What I think is frosty precipitation on the window is a WHITE yard. Like the time I landed in DFW from Japan and I thought I was looking at whitish sky when the plane LANDED and I realized that was indeed the ground. (To this day I am so thrilled my parents made it to the airport to get my sorry ass and that we did NOT have to land in MEXICO, as the flight attendant later confided we almost had).

We here in this part of the country have a hard time making our brains see snow. It'll get there, we just need a minute.

So there is like, a lot of snow out. Like a lot. (Remember, I'm in Texas. This is not the same as a New Englander's "a lot.")

So I called D because after all, snow driving is not as bad as ice driving, though still something I'm hardly inclined to do. Ever. It was just starting when he left, apparently, and it took him TWO HOURS to get to work. (It usually takes 40 minutes). Hans' green little VW behind was about halfway down the driveway when he told me this, and now it looks odd that someone thought about leaving, got halfway down, and then pulled right the hell back in.

That's one drug test, officially re-scheduled for tomorrow morning. I've noticed, too,that my online chat help with my airline are perhaps the slowest typists on earth. And they seem to favor the less common spellings. Such as "tommorrow."

Mouchette is VERY delighted that I've parked myself in the chair for the morning. I practically have to beat him off if I don't want a cat in my lap.



And speaking of which, I saw on Netfux that Mouchette is finally out on DVD. It's a really uplifting (HA) Robert Bresson film from '67. I'd seen it at the Dobie a few days before picking up my kitten, who was the *runtiest* black kitten. When he was mis-sexed (what a word, should it be one), well, he became Mouchette! And I couldn't really take it back once he was getting his bath and revealed himself to be male...besides, "Mouche" is fairly androgynous, right?

I guess I should go close the garage and text someone at work to say, "Yeah right, bitches."

You know why I made you the lead, because your voice has no personality.

10:05

Babel winning the big award was kind of a surprise. Ok, so my predictions for the Oscars would be: Dreamgirls, Letters From Iwo Jima, Babel, The Departed and The Queen. Volver could make a surprise appearance.

I am so unexcited about all of these. I think I need to see Iwo Jima and The Departed, though. I adored The Queen, but I think the writer and actress are the best highlights.

9:45:

However much I can't STAND Sacha Baron Cohen, the bitch totally won me a surprise dinner cooked by my husband sometime this month. (The husband bet on Johnny Depp, who wasn't even there. Ouch).

And THEN my husband bet on Borat for best comedy, which is WEIRD, cause seriously, who didn't see Dreamgirls coming? But that's my choice of meat from Central Market, WON. (And really, like he's going to object to prime filet grilled outside).

9:22

My friend J has the audacity to call while Marty is picking up his Best Director. Jesus, the man has to take it where he can get it, it's not like the Academy Awards are going to be giving him one anytime soon. Stop calling me!

Bud, don't be mad.

9:05:



Warren Beatty picks up the Cecil B. DeMille award. Don't get me wrong, love the WB. Need to see more of his films. But seriously, the lemon-rosemary chicken was ready just as this was happening. Perfect timing. No matter how cool the recipient, don't tell me you're not all in the bathroom during this stuff.

Cute speech, though. Especially singling out his wife. Good call, my friend.

He makes me beat him with a riding crop and I let him. It's no wonder you're perverted. Look who your parents are.

8:55:

Awww!!! Alexandre Desplat won best score for The Painted Veil! At the Oscars you'd pick Hans Zimmer, cause, you know, it's Hans Zimmer. But I was rooting for this guy.

The FUCK is Jennifer Love Hewitt wearing? Why is she THERE? What a joke of a stain.



Ok, America Ferrara just won for Ugly Betty. That's it, gonna hafta watch.

I've killed just about everything that walks or crawled at one time or another.

8:43:

Peter Morgan won screenplay for The Queen! How exciting! I forget I'm watching the GGs sometimes. I nearly wet the carpet in surprise. And he was giving an actual speech of interest and they made him cut it short! Or rather, he wasn't arrogant enough to keep talking.

You know, TiVO keeps trying to tape Ugly Betty for us. I guess I should let it. I'd never even heard of it til TiVO irritated me with its repeated suggestions. Beat out the Housewives and Weeds (which I keep meaning to bump up in The Queue).



Wooooooooohoooooooooo!!!

Ok, best foreign language film. I'm actually mostly glad because it means I won a 30 minute body rub. HAHA. My husband so mistakenly bet on Mel Gibson. Shah! As if!!

Don't try to play detective.

8:18:



"America held its breath?" Are you serious? No one holds their breath in the first season. You made Danny fall in love with Jordan over a twenty-minute time span, it's hardly the Daphne-Niles of its time. And anything involving Harriet makes me roll my eyes. Let's start making these ads a WEE BIT less self-important, shall we?

And Sarah Jessica Parker looks like a car ran her over. I always though Sex and the City did an AMAZING job of making her look presentable. Total butter face.

And far more importantly,



The adorable Bill Nighy wins!!! WOOHOO!! And followed immediately by...



WOOHOO! And I still say she's lookin' mighty foxy tonight. Can't find pics of her at the GG, of course. Who cares what she wins for, Elizabeth I or Prime Suspect, she's just awesome.

I am so glad that I got sober now so I can be hyper-conscious for this series of humiliations.

7:52:



I'm a little embarrassed. I guess I know who Emily Blunt is.



DUH, who didn't see this coming?? But so delighted. If I ever got in the same fucking category as this woman, I'd be safe in knowing I'm just there for the free booze.

On the bright side, it still means I was right.

7:40:



I'm sure you're a nice person, but I'm so glad you didn't win. Your character annoys the ever-living-fuck out of me on Studio 60. I have no idea who Emily Blunt is or what show she's on, but I'm sure her character is less annoying than yours.



Is looking so gorgeous tonight!! She's going to win everything, and rightly so.



YEAH, BABY!!!

He should win EVERY time, just based on the knowledge he'll give the best acceptance speech. Kiefer did look a tad bitter. Eat it, baby.

That feels nice... I mean it feels funny! You're married, aren't you?

7:10:



One award down. Best Supporting Actress. She blubbered but managed not to be Gweniff about it. Tolerably cute.

Can't really be too happy for anyone who beats out Cate, but it was a pretty damn good performance at least.

Then Justin Timberlake accepted an award for Prince (since he was presenting it) and pulled a little stunt he'll probably catch flak for tomorrow. It made me laugh, though.

Ray. If someone asks if you're a god, you say, "yes!"

Or in my case, when four black people turn around after Dreamgirls has finished and coo, "Did you just love it?" well, you say yes.

We were at the VIP opening for Arlington's Studio Movie Grill, all you can eat and drink. I'm glad I tried the fruit and cheese platter for FREE, cause the cheese was amazing but even I couldn't get it all on a measly five crackers. Two glasses of wine for me and a bucket o' beer for D. (Don't worry, it's fucking Miller Lite, there's no alcohol in that). And I was contemplating seeing 007 again, which they are opening, but it turned out they were only screening 4 things for the VIP night. Trust me, it was no contest and since I'm a Golden Globes/Oscar junkie, Dreamgirls needed to get knocked out sooner or later. Thank god it was free.

And don't worry, I totally bonded with my new friends over my lie (though I was curious what they thought of the whole Beyonce v. Jennifer "controversy") and they shared their third pitcher of margaritas with us. Having been consuming wine before this, I proceeded gently.

But jesus. I really thought it would be a guilty pleasure. I was drinking and I was bored off my ass. But I will say, to steal that NYTimes reviewer's line about The Vertical Hour, Jennifer Hudson did indeed MOP the damn stage with Beyonce's ass. Damn. But it still sucked, no two ways about it. And I'm starting to loathe Jamie Foxx. I just want to roll my eyes every damn time he's on the screen.

I finally started the last Prime Suspect last night, which I've been dreading. I adore Helen Mirren and the whole series, which is why I fail to see the need to make her an alcoholic. I'm not giving anything away there, it's in the preview and it's all too prevalent throughout. Almost done with the first installment. Tolerable...

But for now, it's time to wine it up and start up the pre-show Golden Globe spectacle. I printed out ballots for D and I for our guessing entertainment. But we don't make bets on these usually, just Oscars. Damn, we're too poor to make bets this time of year. (Especially since the bets usually involve him having to buy me the meat of my choice at Central Market, a trip to Dakota's...there are free ones, too. Like clean out your fucking car). We shall see.

Grow up Heather, bulimia's so '87.

Much thanks to Michael for this:

Effect of Drugs and Alcohol on Spider Webs:



And now, your moment of bunny zen.

What? Mixing it up? Shindou wouldn't do anything that goes against public order and morals! But licking with Mr. Yuki... ahhh! Oh, my sweet baby!

First of all, Alex told me this. How cute???

So Thursday we ended the evening with hot dogs off the street (eating at restaurants around 42nd while the plays are on is not the best of ideas unless you don't mind paying an arm and a leg). We went back home and I got to catch up with Drew and hopefully not bore D too terribly.

Friday we got up and Drew showed us around Columbia on the way to lunch. It's a really beautiful campus. I would be so intimidated if I went there. He said they had plenty of great scholarships but damn. I think undergrads are about $50,000 a year. He's getting his PhD (I presume in teaching/linguisitics--his masters was in linguistics) and so took us by the teachers' college. Post 9/11, guests currently need three forms of ID to get in. But the outside sure was nice! (This shot was near the teachers' college, I think it's right next to it, actually).



After Columbia, (oh my god, the LIBRARIES. Drool. Drew said they're packed solid on Friday and Saturday nights (!) and you have to reserve a table weeks in advance. Apparently NYU is the city/party school...) we strolled over to Tom's Restaurant to get a couple shots in front, as this was the exterior shot used in Seinfeld. (Obviously they nipped out "Tom's").



See, there's D in front! It was rainy that day.

We didn't eat there, the food is reported to be so-so, and why eat so-so when you're in NYC? Although strangely, we did have Mexican instead. Drew made sure about eight times that we wanted to eat it, being from TX and all. I assured him we have innumerable Tex-Mex chains of shit, but we appreciate good Tex-Mex/Mexican wherever it comes. And it was delicious. They gave me a bit of a lame margarita (Drew's was loaded!), but the food was just as good as anything here. It's true it wasn't really Tex-Mex (duh), but it wasn't true Mexican. I guess it was best described as New York Tex-Mex. (Which was GOOD, unlike Japanese Italian food...don't order Italian food in Japan).

After early afternoon margaritas, we hit the Metropolitan Museum of Art. We've all seen the exterior in about a billion movies, but I think this is the shot we all recognize:



The view outside really is gorgeous, especially on a drizzly day. Central Park is just outside. We mostly took our time in the enormous Egyptian exhibit. I'd been before and seen more of the museum, but it was a bit of a lazy day this time. Also, the day was getting late and we had to get back to the apartment to change before dinner. We did have time to walk around the area, however, which is considered the Upper East Side and has the most the expensive residences in Manhattan. (Think Charlotte's apartment on SATC). I wouldn't mind a place.

We had reservations at Les Halles. I didn't take any pictures, as I guess I was feeling a bit self-conscious at the moment at being a little too "touristy." Like someone who eats there strictly because the chef is a celebrity. (Me, on the other hand, I just like his smart-ass writing style, that's why I ate there).



We were seated amongst a very busy and loud restaurant. It's quite dark and quaint, however. But the sucky part was our dick waiter. It's true he was overworked--he had a shitload of tables--but it started when we were asked if we wanted about eight different kinds of water. They asked us like three different ways, and I wanted tap. Flat tap. I've never gone through that many questions about water. So apparently we're already "one of those" customers. And when I said I needed more time, smiling, the guy rolled his eyes at Drew and left!

I don't know if anyone overheard me lividly bitching (it was a loud place, I doubt it) or if he finally snapped somewhere in the back or someone finally just helped him out, but one of the managers took our order. D got peppercorn steak, Steak au poivre, Frites (the fries were good--great even--but Drew and D kept laughing at me when I told them how famous they were. Fries are fries. I guess I agree. But I mean, they were as good as fries can get!), I got Filet de Boeuf Béarnaise--Vel, I don't know what "bearnaise" is, but FUCK ME. I took HOURS to eat it because I didn't want it to end. And Drew got lamb: Cotes d'Agneau grillées au Romarin. Everyone loved their dish. Drew and D had dessert, I nibbled, but I had...for the first time ever...a digestif. Ever since my dad sent me a lengthy article on how wonderful they are for you after dinner--plus it just sounded so shi-shi and divine...I wish I had a few bottles of various digestifs at home...anyhoo, I got our cunt waiter to recommend one, since I was probably drunkenly toying with him at this point--and it is like light fire. It doesn't burn in the slightest, not like whisky or anything--very light. And firey. So nice.



I think dinner took around three hours, as it should. Ooh, and we had a $38 bottle of wine that was well worth its price. Australian Shiraz, I hate I didn't write it down. There was an incident the next night when I didn't refuse the wine and should have (it was watery, we finally complained and they took it back) and so then Drew got to select and he chose Merlot. I liked it ok, but it was barely better than the watery wine! The watery wine was BAD, but I think this was just Merlot being Merlot. It just doesn't have the body of Shiraz, Cabs or mmmmmmmmm, Zinfandel. (And in my defense, I have just never been served a bad wine! I know you can SAY no, but are you really supposed to?? Apparently. I feel sheepish.)



So anyway, dinner was FANTASTIC.

And hooray for me, as of today I was hired by the major airline and start February 5th. And because I start Feb 5th, that is also the day I start being able to fly for free, anywhere they fly. I mean sure, I have to memorize 200 city codes or whatever, but that's also however many places my sweet ass can fly.

Hellllooooooo Vermont!

And helllllllooo eating at Les Halles again! And seeing Black 47! Ok, I'm done. It's kind of a lame job, but after a year you're allowed to transfer within. Cha-ching! Fuck these shitty Dallas restaurants, my special occasions are all Les Halles. (I'm picking the waiter).

And most importantly, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ALEX!!!!

Here is a very Kamikaze Girls Happy Birthday to you...so cheery! (Check the blue earmuff headphones!)



And then for the camp guilt in all of us (they had crap in the way of Mystic Pizza)...



I LOVE YOU!!