Friday, October 28, 2005

Someone could use a field trip...

Last night, the wife & I took a little walk down to Gristedes to buy some pumpkins to carve for our party. They turned out AWESOME, as you will see in Halloween pics to be put up sometime next week. However, while in line at the 26th st. Gristedes, the neighboring cashier started asking our cashier some questions, starting with "How do pumpkins grow?" Perhaps being embarrased by her co-workers ignorance, or just playing deaf, the question went unanswered, until I volunteered, "On a vine." The next question is proof that at some point in life, even city kids good benefit from a field trip to a farm or something, or perhaps just to eat somewhere other than McDonald's. As I unloaded my pumpkin onto the counter she asked, "So, can you like eat them and stuff?" Oh Lord... trying to be nice, and hold back the laughter I responded w/ "Uh... yeah, like pumpkin pie, pumpkin seeds, etc". She was all "oh yeah!"
Between that excahange, and Amanda knocking over a display of frosting in a spray can, that was quite possibly one of the funniest grocery store trips ever.
Alright- uh, I guess I should do some work or something?? Will update more after the 3 upcoming Halloween parties, I can't wait!! Happy Halloween everyone!
Love Ya!!
-BOO-los mwahahaha

BOO ya

I meant to write about my weekend earlier this week, but neglected to, and now the memory is hazy… it’s like, um, drank a lot and had fun. Oh yeah, saw a bunch of people from college on Friday, flirted with a cute bartender (which is of NEWSFLASH status, I think), stuck a note in a table that we discovered was a desk (it read: “Dear You, You opened the drawer and I love you. Call me. Love, Amanda,” and had my phone number. I received 2 calls the next day). It was good times. On Saturday, Archana invited me, Tania and Sarah to this party in Tribeca… it was strange, in a huge apartment, with a dj and 2 kegs. You could hear the party from the street, but luckily they had invited the whole building. Very frat-like, but fun. This one guy was dancing like an insane monkey (in a really unappealing way) while wearing a sweater, and when I got in line for the bathroom he cut me, with stains on the back of his tshirt, claiming some girl had spilled water on him and he needed to use the bathroom immediately. Um, sweater guy? We all saw you dancing in that sweater. I am well aware that those are sweat stains. Our conversation went like:

“So, I’ll be quick, just let me go first”
“Um, I think I can be faster than you. What are you planning to do about that anyway?”
“Rinse out my shirt.”
“Yeah, I can definitely be faster than you.”

And he proceeded to go in before me anyway. Chivalry is dead!

And this weekend – Halloween!!! Yay! The wife and I cleaned the apartment, carved pumpkins, and toasted pumpkin seeds last night in preparation for our spooky Halloween bash that is set for tomorrow. Tonight, however, we will pop our costumes’ cherries at Sarah’s party. Hopefully they don’t bleed all over the sheets. Then of course it is off to the bars on Monday, real Halloween. I have taken Tuesday off work, to avoid calling in sick at 12:30 a la last St. Patrick’s Day. As for the costumes; after being RocknRoll Unicorns last year – a concept we pretty much made up, with some inspiration from cable access and Lisa Frank – we are dressing more traditionally this year. I’ll be going as a spooky witch, while Boulos is a dark angel.

Pictures, etc to follow next week.


p.s. I tried to include a picture of an adorable baby and a pumpkin, but the image thingy wasn't working :(

Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Our Hero

He doesn't just play guys who totally lose it...

OMG Nick Cage is crazy. So we all heard how he named his won Kal-El, which is apparantly Superman's birth name (I am not nerdy enough to know this off the top of my head). But his statement on the name is just, well, retarded:

"Alice and I wanted to have a name that was exotic and American and which stood for something good, because our son is exotic and he's American and we both think he's good. But having said that, I always liked the sound of the name. It has kind of a magical ring to it: Abracadabra Kal-El Shazam!" (from

Oh, I am so glad to hear that they think their son is good. That's really heartwarming. My heart is also warm with thoughts of the abuse this child will suffer at the hands of bullies in the schoolyard.


Tuesday, October 25, 2005

What the hell do they call our President in Turkey?

Um, remind me not to move to Turkey. I think this is reason enough.


Daytime Evil

Hello All!
Another weekend has gone by. Mine was spent partially w/the fam out in good ole' Westfield, NJ, where I spent my formative years. The visit was punctuated with my boyfriend's first presence @ a family dinner. He had met my 'rents briefly in the past, but this was the longest time for all of them to spend together, and I think it went pretty well. I was also drinking heavily during this time to help get through any possible awkward silences, so perhaps my view of the entire evening is a bit skewed, but oh well. I unfortunately missed the sweet mini NYU reunion that the wife went to, and the open bar party on Sat, but I'm sure she'll be telling you all about those sometime soon.
After arriving to work a little hungover, and completely exhausted on a Monday morning, I just wanted to pretend to get some stuff done, drink some coffee, and enjoy the TV in my office. Ellen, usually a trustworthy source of distraction and amusment, but yesterday seemed as though it were an early Halloween epidsode. The most horrifying, nauseating, dispicable display ocurred... AN INTERVIEW WITH BARBARA STREISAND! If you can't tell, the woman makes me want to die. I find her to be almost completely without talent (unless you consider somehow tricking an entire nation, and a sexy older dude that you are worth something a talent), utterly arrogant, and overall a complete an utter festival of crap. Contained in this interview were the following statements:
  • Upon being asked "what kind of music do you listen to?" her response was "Why would I listen to music? I don't listen to music!" in an entirely defiant manner...
  • When asked if she ever sings around the house, her response "Why would I do that? I NEVER EVER sing around the house!" Follow up of "not even in the shower?" She continued to act horrified esp. when discovering that millions of people all over the world are shower singers.
  • Although this list could go on forever, I will end it with this. Ellen asks, "What made you decide to do this record, and why did you choose to let me interview you?" Babs replies, "Pressure for my label, and you have high ratings" without an ounce of irony. WHAT IS THIS WOMAN'S DAMAGE???

Seriously, my boss and I nearly lost it. This woman needs serious help. I also really could have lived without the knowledge that she never wears a bra. If you want to see some of the interview, click here.


Friday, October 21, 2005

Get along, little doggies.

So a coworker has decided to organize a team to participate in this. I’m totally signing up, as we plan to combine scheming, strategy, scavenging, and booze.

God, I am soooo over work. For the past two days, I have been coming in at 10:30, insanely hung over. Needing water. So I have this bottle that I have been refilling from our water cooler for like a month, and today I confirmed what I have suspected for a couple days: the water is turning a slight brownish color. But I keep drinking anyway. Why is it brownish? I mean it’s just water. Which is what I keep telling myself as I drink this obviously disease-ridden stuff. If I have that avian flu next week, I think we will know why.

But this is not why I am over work. The fact is, I am useless. My brain is mush, my body aches, and I have no ability to concentrate. I think the drink is turning me into an ADD-ridden old lady. Last night was Sarah’s Cowboy & Indian –themed party, which was pretty entertaining. I think I drank 2 bottles of wine, and I went with the intention of only dabbling in alcohol. Whoops! The wife made it to this one, and some of the usual suspects were there, as were other random folk. After Pam, Sarah and I compared our versions of the architect party of the night previous, we listened to cowboy music and played some poker. This odd fellow we had not seen for years, who once molested my friend under a table, showed up. We made an effort not to sit next to him. Hoping to actually wake up in my own bed today, I left around 3 or so, but got sidetracked on the way home and wound up at our old college haunt, Barrow Street Ale House. I was good, though, and sent myself home after a beer and some chitchat with another fave bartender, Dr. Z.

Tonight I might get a chance to hang out with a college buddy I haven’t seen in at least a year. But for now, back to blankly staring at claims, and writing emails to friends so that I look like I’m working.


p.s. Everyone must come to this! In costume, and that means you, Ass Pirate!

Time to laugh at Old People

Now, I try not to laugh when a story contains a fatality. But, seriously. This is rather insanely amusing.

Does anything good ever happen in Florida, or is darkly humorous as close as they ever get?


Thursday, October 20, 2005

“Hello, I am an architect. I build… buildings.”

Little-known fact: architects are drunken crazy party animals! Well, ok, I think maybe people pretending to be architects for free drinks are drunken crazy party animals, but man, those architects can dance.

Last night, Sarah D. invited Tania and myself to join her, her roommate Pam, and her fellow architect-types at some, um, architect function? I’m not really sure what the point of it was, though I do remember that the party was at some kind of swanky fabric place in Chelsea. Look, the important thing is: there was an open bar. Also, the invitation indicated that there was dancing “from 7:30 to ?” See? Architects are crazy. They will party until ? !!!! Which turned out to be like 10 or 11 pm, but still. Clearly they were thinking, dawn perhaps?

In any case, Tania and I did a very poor job of pretending to be architects – I mean basically we muttered things about blueprints to one another while waiting for Sarah, gave up on talking about anything related once we were in, and by the end of the night I was revealing my true identity: insurance claims woman.

The place was packed at first and it was really hard to get a drink. One particularly snobby architect-man was heard saying, “jesus, let’s just go get a drink at a bar. This is NOT my scene.” Um, hello! Free drinks = you wait a bit for them, but by the end of the night, feel like some kind of champion who has pulled one over on “the man” by getting shitfaced for free. Duh. However, a few hours after we got there, the party started to thin out (read: it was totally easy to get 2 glasses of wine and begin double-fisting within about 8.5 seconds of one’s approach to the bar). This is also when I looked over towards the dj (ridiculous) and exclaimed, “oh my god you guys – people are actually dancing.”

I was slightly horrified by this – I really don’t believe in dancing at work or networking type events – but I soon noticed that most people in our little group had begun dancing in a rather self-conscious and sarcastic manner. Since I had been double-fisting for a couple rounds by then, I was easily led to the “dance floor,” where my cohorts and I alternated between laughing at people in suits making asses of themselves, and making complete asses of OURselves. By the time the dj stopped playing “In the Club” and salsa music (which pretty much sums up his selection), we had made some new friends, if that is the right word for people you hang out with for a night with no intention of ever contacting again come daybreak. Sarah and Tania claimed fatigue and left, but Pam and I were in it for the long haul, and followed our new “friends” down the road to another bar. Which is were things become hazy. Generally, there was a lot of smoking, a bad decision to sing some karaoke (me: Bohemian Rhapsody with a boy I’d met 2 minutes earlier), I switched to water to avoid the bathroom floor, and some guy we were vaguely connected to was arrested for drunkenly berating the bouncer. Also, I misplaced my phone at some point, which put a damper on the night – but Pam saved my life by calling me at work this morning to inform me that she had somehow wound up with it. Yay Pam!

I stopped off at Tempest Bar on my way home to discover that my favorite English bartender, Martin, is back! He had left us to join the cast of the touring Spamalot, which sadly was cancelled. It is always fun to be reunited with a good bartender, though.

Tonight is Pam and Sarah’s crazy Cowboys and Indians party. Hopefully I will feel less nauseas, more conscious, and ready to fall off the wagon again by then.


Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Good Golly Miss Dolly!

One of the benefits of working for a national TV network is the occasional brush w/celebrities. So, my boss and I just ran down to see country icon and drag queen idol, Dolly Parton perform live on the View. The entire experience was so surreal! Dolly sang a Janice Joplin cover, "Me & Bobby McGee", and did an amazing job! I ran into J there, a prominent tv big wig, in his own right (and he was doing a lot better than Friday night). He is quite the Dolly fan, so I was not surprised to see him there. It was so odd to be watching Dolly Parton between the heads of Merideth Viera and Star Jones... does it get more random??? Dolly Parton is SO TINY, and her boobs are out of control, for real. I am surprised that lil' lady doesn't fall over more often. The funniest thing is that my boss DID NOT KNOW THAT DOLLY'S BOOBS ARE FAKE!!! WHAT?!?!?!?? She thought they were real... that is ridiculous, but awesome.
Alright, well, that's pretty much the most interesting thing to happen to me in the past couple o' days! Man, someone shoudl totally dress up like Dolly for our costume party! Perhaps I will rock that some day... till then, I'll leave it to the drag queens:)

Monday, October 17, 2005

Ahhh, Drinking for free

Oh, weekend. I had a very good Friday night, as Boulos has already indicated. I was able to get completely intoxicated in the company of about 15 close friends when the Man, who we will call Mr. Big (wait is that someone else’s alias already?), left behind his credit card and ordered us to celebrate Diana’s birthday on him. For a night, life was everything I’d ever dreamed it could be. The weird and creepy bartender -- who is also good-looking and thus fools all the ladies into wanting to hump him until they realize he is, um, weird and creepy -- makes very good martinis. I nearly fell in love with him purely based on the fact that he was the one handing me free drinks. And that is about all that can be said for him. Plans were to head over to the Lower East Side after leaving our afterwork bar, but everyone I work with crapped out, despite the fact that I was pointing to myself and yelling “WOKE UP ON THE BATHROOM FLOOR” to anyone who would listen.

They tiredly admitted that I was the champion that night, and Boulos and I headed over to Orchard Bar, where one of my favorite bloggers was djing. The music was great, and intoxication led to me dancing, led to me making out with a random guy on the dance floor (to clarify: he pretty much attacked me). Erika and Bonnie showed up, followed by a very drunk Jesse. He basically heckled a guy on the street into making out with me by repeatedly accusing him of being gay, and then daring him to kiss me and prove his heterosexuality (oh how quickly I forget the boys who kiss and run on the dance floor!). On my way out of the bar, I passed Carlos D going into the bar (newsflash: Interpol is kind of my obsession), and turned around to follow him in. I was met by a kind of “Really?” look from some guy at the bar, which forced me to confront the fact that I was now all alone, and had absolutely no way of interacting with Mr. D that didn’t involve slurring and stumbling around. So I turned back, and eventually found my way home, where I apparently complained incessantly of being too drunk before passing out on the couch.

Saturday evening I met Erika and Sandy for a quick dinner at Au Bon Pain, followed by a viewing of The Squid and the Whale. I would definitely recommend this movie. I didn’t expect a movie that basically chronicles the dissolution of a really, really dysfunctional marriage, particularly from the kids’ perspective, to be so funny. Often in a cringe-and-laugh way, but it’s definitely worth the $10. Jeff Daniels is kind of this year's Jeff Bridges (as in, A Door in the Floor) -- deserving of an Oscar I'm sure he won't get. Laura Linney is great too.

Saturday night was a bit of a letdown. While I enjoyed hanging out with Archana, PJ, and all of their chef friends, I paid $40 for 4 drinks that barely got me buzzed, and then stood on the corner and watched my after-hours bar get busted. So I went home and passed out on the couch, to Lifetime Movie Network, which resulted in a lot of waking up to Judith Light looking uglier than ever, and having nightmares about being molested by prison guards. It was strange. I also woke up with the worst hangover-cold (what is this? it only recently began happening to me) ever, so I basically slept and watched tv on Sunday. Which was much more difficult than it sounds, since our DVR has been going insane, and the cable itself is iffy right now.

So to sum up my weekend: Me 2, bathroom floor 0. Haha!

Monday Shmonday

At what point does anyone find it appropriate to incessantly giggle and loudly make out with their boyfriend on an 8am bus ride into the city? Ok, unless I am drunk, my boyfriend is drunk, or we're both drunk, we NEVER carry on in public like that, as it could possibly cause others to throw up directly on us. I mean, after this excellent weekend, I have to wake up to a morning of freezing weather, and this bullshit? Seriously, it ain't right, but onto the fun stuff...

Friday night consisted of being treated to hours of free drinks and appetizers courtesy of one of Amanda's bosses or something (some high up dude). I met the other KB who works with Amanda, and apparently she is the insurance company version of me, weird. Those insurance peeps know how to party, that is for sure, and I gotta go back to that bar, b/c the espresso martini was unreal. Following the fun times w/teammate, co-star, Amanda's cyberfriend, and all those insurance fools, we headed over to check out one of Amanda's fave bloggers who was spinning @ Orchard Bar. The hilarity that ensued at this bar was overwhelming. First of all, I don' t know who these retards were, but while outside for a cig we heard one dude on his phone, calling it "Orchid Bar", hi, learn to read, thanks. Then, this other moron appears and keeps yelling on his phone that the bar is on Rivington. He even goes so far to say "It's like Irvington, without the front letters"... um are you kidding. IT IS CALLED ORCHARD BAR BECAUSE IT IS ON ORCHARD STREET!!!!!!!! I don't know if these hipsters had overdosed on Sparks and fanny packs or what, but they were out of control. In the midst of this, I had some drunken convos w/the boyf, who was drunk enough to be convinced to come into the city, nice.
So, upon leaving the bar, Amanda wandered out w/me to smoke, and J rolled up, and was quite trashed, in such a glamorous way. He appeared while on the phone w/a friend of his, telling the kid to "take shelter", it was hilarious. As I left the 2 trashed ones, I went to Rudy's to meet the boyf around 3. This is where I met some Roller Derby chicks who attempted to beat the boyf (it was a joke, but so fucking weird, I can't even deal).
----I need to take a moment to interrupt myself to tell you all that SIMPLY RED is back, the dude is singing this song that could induce violent behavior, it's so bad. This is the problem with having a TV in your office, sometimes they just allow things on TV without proper warning, and it can be really traumatic.----
Alright, so, after the misunderstanding w/the Roller Derby chicks, they introduced themselves. The first one was all "Hi, nice to meet you, my name is MALICIOUS", ok... the other one was Ginger, and she forced me to do the "secret girl handshake", uh, sure. After that, it was just drunken craziness. The boyf and I returned to Amanda drunkenly eating pizza on the couch. We all just acted crazy for a bit, and then we passed out around 5am or something.

Saturday night= drunk times w/boyf, making dinner, and then a serious WWF wrestling fight, which has led to some painful bruises and rug burn. The funniest was the appearance of his sister and her fiancee who think we're pretty insane b/c of this, but it was good times.

Sunday was such a Sunday, helping out w/the empty apt. in my boyf's house, making dinner for all us peeps, chilling w/his 16 month old niece, etc.

Overall a kickass weekend, can't wait to hear why Amanda was throwing up again! Will update if anything else awesome happens.

Smiles & Giggles!

Sunday, October 16, 2005

"Lady Lumps"?!?!?!?

The Black-Eyed Peas have lowered the tastefulness bar on pop music even further (and we thought that their low point was Fergie peeing herself onstage!). I may be a bit late on this, but I never listen to the radio. I was in Chicago a few weekends ago, however, and my sister and brother brought this song to my attention (you can find the lyrics to this masterpiece here). We had a good laugh over the question "Whatchu gonna do with all that junk, all that junk inside your trunk?" I see three options here: 1) nothing 2) shake it in some manner, and 3) liposuction. I don't see Fergie going with 1 or 3.

Anyway, I had no idea it was the Black-Eyed Peas until I drunkenly turned on VH1 this morning. Anyone who knows me can tell you that my moral standards are significantly lowered when I have been drinking; however, I was horrified. I mean, this song is basically about a woman who whores herself while referring to her body in the most disgusting ways imaginable -- "lovely lady lumps"?? "my humps"? If I ever refer to my body like this, it is time to take me out back and put me out of my misery.

I was vaguely hoping this song was some kind of attempt at satire. However satire would first of all imply that there are women out there more disgusting than Fergie (and Lil' Kim is about the only thing I can come up with there), and also it would mean the Black Eyed Peas are capable of such a thing. I think that they believe they have come up with something innovative here. Remember when Fergie was Stacy on Kids Incorporated? Oh god, Stacy! What would Renee say???

I plan on blogging about my weekend once I have stopped vomiting.


Friday, October 14, 2005

You can find me on the floor

Clearly I think this is my daily log, which is to be kept up on an hourly basis. Well, the wife DOES need to know what I'm up to. Anyway, we're off drinking soon, and I have decided that the chances of me sleeping on the bathroom floor tonight are currently at 83%. Though they decrease in direct proportion to the amount of times I choose to throw a celebratory shot over my shoulder, rather than down my throat.

Also, the consensus in our office is that V shall henceforth be known as: Ass Pirate. So, that is his code name here from now on.

Kisses, Amanda


I am too lazy to do this photo-hosting thingy for a pic of us, so I am posting one here. It is relatively unflattering, and I look like a crazed 3rd grader. Ah, well.

Love, Amanda

What Up, Fresh Kids?

Alright, my compadre has already opened up the forum of this fair blog, but I feel it's my duty to add to it.

First of all, I would like to point out how my bro channeled my innebriated roomate last night. He is in a band, and somehow had the dumb luck to meet some girl who's mission is to get them signed within the year. Part of this girl's plan included having a limo full of beer pick up the band last night, take them to dinner, then get them into a club hosting a FORD MODEL AGENCY PARTY. What? He said it was VIP all the way, and he was downing Jager from the bottle. I guess you gotta act like a rock star to become a rock star. I wish that I was that ambitious! I thought my job buying spackle for the faces of aging daytime stars was kind of rock star, but perhaps I need to reexamine that.

So, as it turns out, my bro got himself good and plastered, got back to his practice studio and passed out on the floor, most likely w/ a drum stick in his mouth... He just called me @ 2:30pm to inform me he was taking part in the Pizza Hut 2nd pizza for a quarter special all by himself. WHAT A LIFE! Alright, I got a little plastered last night, but the only part of the evening I spent on the floor, was w/ an 18month old. Oh well, at least I was drunk when I was hanging w/ that kid.

In other news, our friend L had her baby on Tuesday, and that is one cute lil' chick! It's really surreal to have a friend w/ a baby, and we were all kind of blown away by it. Don't be surprised if Amanda is arrested for stealing babies, or more speficially buying this one from L, b/c apparently she really wants to. Alright fools, i suppose that concludes my intro to you.

Stay Cool

Does this mean I'm supposed to grow up now?

Yo, our friend L had a baby on Tuesday. This is her. She's my new favorite person.

Love, Amanda

Ahoy, Maties!

I have been thinking of starting a blog for awhile now, and after my rockstar performance last night, I finally feel that I have the proper blog-starting story. A note: my roommate and I were planning to start this blog together, so you might see entries from her up here. Thus, I am signing this.

So I went to S’s weekly Thursday-night party, dubbed “the waves” (apartment is on Waverly st.). This party is fun because there is always a theme to dress to – last night: Varsity Sports – and also because her apartment is a 5th floor walk-up so you get to climb 4 flights of stairs, and enter all sweaty and out of breath, while being stared at due to the door’s location in the living/dining room.

The night started off innocently enough. I was chastised for my lack of varsity gear (too cold and rainy for the skirt I had planned on wearing), and I began drinking red wine. We decided to play poker, and I kept drinking. Switched to “milwaukee’s best,” a beer I am not familiar with despite having grown up an hour and a half away from that fine city. Perhaps the best was too good for my family. Anyway, about an hour into poker, it seems that everyone lost their mind. First an ex-mormon produced a giant bottle of jack daniels and suggested we take shots. Ok, fine – I mean what goes better with milwaukee’s best than a shot of whiskey (well, leaving out the fact that we had drunk an entire bottle of red wine ourselves)? But then, not more than 10 minutes later, someone who can only be described as a complete fucking moron, or perhaps the devil incarnate, or maybe my worst enemy is more apt here – regardless, he suddenly has a bottle of the most generic gin I have ever laid eyes upon. I believe the brand name was something like, “fuck yourself,” maybe. This bottle appeared magically in his hands, and before I knew it, I was taking a shot of gin. Who, you ask, takes shots of gin? Idiots. Total idiots.

Everything goes really foggy here. What I do know is, rather suddenly the 8-person game we had going was down to 3 people. Or, maybe I just passed out at the table for awhile. Then I was told that I had just bet, and lost, all my money (well, chips – no real money involved). This seemed like a lie to me – I mean I don’t remember saying I was all in – but then again, I can understand maybe wanting the drunkest girl you’ve ever seen to exit the game. Next thing I know, I awake on her bathroom floor at 7 am. I vaguely remember a gorgeous Jackson Pollack painting – or wait, was that red-wine vomit? Hmmm….

And now? after showing up to work at 10:30, I feel like absolute shit. Going out tonight for a friend’s birthday. Hey, that should be fun. Maybe we’ll do shots of gin!

Love, Amanda