Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Celebrity whore

Celebs I've encountered in New York City:

Dave from Top Chef - today at Penn Station.
Cute, lost weight, shorter than you'd think.
Didn't cry.


Whoopi - shopping at ABC for lighting.
I made an unfortunate mouth noise
when Brian pointed her out to me.



Carson Kressley - from Queer Eye for the Straight Guy.
Cut me off at Madison Square Garden.
(Note: Carson - get your assistant enrolled in a basic Photoshop class
to learn how to crop, babe.)



Yao Ming - NBA star.
Seen ducking trees walking down Madison Avenue.
Mofo be tall, hommes.

Faces of fear

Children are so cute. Especially when they're being frightened out of their tiny little minds.

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Album Meme


Make your own album cover!

Here’s what you do: The article you get when you click this link is your band title.

The last four words of the last quote on this page is your album title (you will need to reload the page if you do more than one, if you’re like me.)

And the third picture, the upper right hand, will be your cover photo.


(h/t to Jeff at Shakesville)

More below:

Monday, January 28, 2008

An evening with Kathy Griffin...and Sambuca Liqueur

Yes. It's true. We were in the presence of the divine one herself.

Kathy Griffin....live...at one of the most obnoxious venues in New York City.

But let's go back to earlier that evening to set the stage and give you the WHOLE experience...

Okay - Peter and his bf Eric sweetly gave us the tickets for Christmas, so we've been jonesing for this night for an entire month.

So this past Saturday, we hopped on the glamorous and sparkling clean Metro North Railroad (NOT - I mean there was something dark and mysterious running down the damned door between cars - ewww) at Beacon, we merrily made our way into the city - fortified by the strangely yummy hot chocolate and vanilla cappuccino sold by the elderly man in the ticky-tacky shop on the platform.

And aside from the occasional unwashed passenger taking a seat behind us, the ride was largely uneventful.

We emerged at Grand Central Station - in all the glorious hustle bustle of its classic New York City Grand Central-ness. (it's all I can do to keep from twirling ala Mary Tyler Moore in the grand atrium some days, throwing my knit cap in the air and declaring that I will, some how, some day, make it after all - it may yet happen...).

Okay - we'll pause here for those of you who wish to let that huge, in-your-face cream pie of GAY that just hit them dribble off and fall to the floor....

Anyway...

It was a lovely, chilly January evening - we meandered through Times Square in search of a restaurant that, to our chagrin, we found no longer existed. Then pressed on down 7th Avenue to our fall-back choice which, as it turns out, should have been the first choice all along.

We dined at Seven - just steps away from Madison Square Garden and the show. I can't begin to tell you just how much we enjoyed it. The food was unbelievably good - I had bacon wrapped monkfish, preceded by sweet onion risotto, and followed by tiramisu, Sambuca and coffee.

Dessert, as is turned out, may have been the funniest thing we encountered all evening - or at least the most memorable. I mean, Kathy Griffin is funny, but over the course of dessert and coffee, Brian, Peter and I dubbed Eric with the drag name of Sambuca Liqueur. And while the hilarity largely centered around how Sambuca might appear, whether or not a fruit hat might be involved, and if Eric's dog Lupe (a small black chihuahua) might accompany him in a fluorescent baby wig - the most hysterical part was (and continues to be) Eric's disgust with the whole idea.

And oh yes, Sambuca will be in charge of the smoothie kiosk in Peter's new eatery. With her dog. In a baby-wig.

You probably had to be there....sigh. But we're still laughing.

And my poor Midwestern mother is still recovering from the fact that you can possibly pay $100 per person for diner - anywhere. Poor woman required smelling salts after hearing that.

After dinner - and still laughing - we stumbled over to Washington Mutual (or WaMu) Theater at Madison Square Garden.

And oh my - the gayness level around MSG that night was OFF the charts. Normally, MSG is surrounded by Rangers fan with painted faces, beer bellies and team hats whooping it up and funking up the area with their beer breath.

Tonight, however - the cologne alert level was at medium-high risk (meaning that small children, the elderly and religious conservatives might experience difficulty in breathing after prolonged exposure) and what Peter and I call " the gay white noise" was almost deafening.

The gay white noise can best be described as that "buzz" that seems to permeate a room when someone famous walks in - or when high school girls suddenly huddle to whisper and dish about someone close by.

I heard the white noise behind me as we were ascending the steps to the front doors. And as I turned to see what had prompted it, I was nearly cut-off by Queer Eye guy Carson Kressley and what appeared to be a smaller, female Carson mini-me. I briefly made eye contact with Carson, but he apparently deemed me inconsequential and he and his identically dressed, tight jean wearing, fur-collared, high-heeled boots wearing minion continued on their way.

Unfortunately, as I was looking at Carson and mini-Carson, ANOTHER couple apparently cut off Brian on the OTHER side... and when Brian said, "well - they may have cut in front of us, but at least we're not ill-mannered or badly dressed," - I think Carson and mini-Carson may have glared at me. Just a little.

SO - we found our seats and prepared to sweat through another two hours of WaMu Theater entertainment. Yes - I said sweat. Apparently the WaMu theater doubles as a Native American sweat lodge during non-show hours.

This is the second time we've been there this winter - and on our previous WaMu adventure to see the Cirque du Soleil production 'Wintuk', Linda actually stripped down to her camisole, it was so hot - and she is the LAST person to EVER be warm in our group. Linda gets cold in the summer.

But despite the heat and the discomfort of sweating through layers of clothing while it's 20 degrees outside - and sitting in seats that make airline economy class look downright luxurious - the show was fantastic.

Kathy was fabulous. She had all new material and had us screaming with laughter. From sharing a bed with Liza Minnelli in a Canadian casino to her new relationship with Apple co-founder Steve Wozniak to Brittany to Oprah (best line of the evening - while discussing Oprah's 100 Osmonds show and wondering how racially diverse Utah might actually be - she mimicked one of the Osmond great grandkids saying of Oprah ..."it talks...")

It was a great show and a great evening - Kathy filled two hours, which was wonderfully unexpected.

And of course, we giggled and hooted back across town and all the way home - about Kathy and the show but - truth be told - we found Sambuca Liqueur and her smoothies to be even funnier fare for the trip.

The hilarity carried over to the next morning when Peter joined us for brunch at Oriole 9 in Woodstock. We were still laughing so hard that the waitress AND the manager both asked us to stay as long as possible to set a good example for other diners.

And our waitress didn't even run away when we asked her for her opinions on baby-wigs. She just refilled our wine and encouraged us to continue.

Damn - I love being us.

Saturday, January 19, 2008

Funniest cartoon EVER!

This was the cartoon I loved most as a child. I mean - it has everything. Animal violence, drag and self mutilation - what's not to love?

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Thursday, January 10, 2008

The peasants are revolting..but so is Michael Kors

It's finally happened. Those smug, out of touch judges on Project Runway have ticked off their fans.

I know this to be true, because there were three adult males in my living room SHRIEKING after last Wednesday's episode.

This season has been covered by a heavy layer of suck since the start. The challenges have been bizarre, to say the least. Talented designers have been left holding the bag as a result of a poorly thought out challenge and sent home, while talentless and annoying designers have been retained.

Let me just say that I realize this is a total non-issue for most people. But there was some serious injustice on this episode.

5 second recap - design a prom dress for some New Jersey catholic school girls.

The winning dress - a nightmare in blue and paste jewels - looked like a Home Ec project for special needs students. Victorya should have been booted off the show.

Sweet P's dress totally rocked and should have won.



Chris' dress was also fabulous and tasteful (something new for Chris) and should have been a contender.



I mean, really - what would you wear to the prom?

The high points of the show:

  • Sweet P and Chris surprising everyone
  • Rami shirtless (ha!)
  • Christian being flummoxed by an opinionated teenager

The low points:

  • Ricky crying again...in his bad jiffy pop hat
  • Ricky's sad pink pillow dress
  • Christian's insane hair
  • The judges

But you can read all about last week's travesty for yourself.

Thursday, January 03, 2008

Kicking 2008 off right! (by playing hookey!)

Yesterday was the first day back at the office in 2008 - after two consecutive snow storms blanketed the Mid Hudson Valley with nearly a foot-and-a-half of snow.

(okay - this is NOT our Shar Pei puppy and even if it were, it would be in direct contradiction tp every Shar Pei we have EVER owned. Our Shar Peis have been - male and female - PRISSES of the first order who would rather DIE than frolic in the snow...and yet, given the chance, would snack from the cat box as if it were the Golden Hen laying Almond Rocas - but I digress....)

But, I tromped merrily into our Madison Avenue office in New York City for our regularly scheduled team day - only to find that my teammates had either a) forgotten, b)become stranded somewhere, c) not yet returned from vacation, or d) blown it off.

I didn't mind - after all - a team day in NYC without a team is called a "shopping your ass off on 5th Avenue day."

However, my extra groovy boss Ethan eventually showed up and I had to relegate a 5th Avenue spree to another future date in lieu of collaboration, teamwork and a damned fine vegetarian lunch at this great little Indian place off Park Avenue and 26th.

I also got my performance review for last year and, without giving too much away, let me say I am very, VERY pleased and that where my big blue employer is concerned - I rock the freaking casbah.

Elvis is still very much in the building. Thang you very much.

So - this morning - Thursday, January 3rd - I arose, made coffee, pottied and fed the dogs, and attended an 8:30 meeting in Second Life.

I am here to tell you - not only am I ill equipped to attend a meeting in my first life at 8:30 am - Second Life is no different. Granted, my SL avatar looked smart and stylish and well-groomed while I was still a squinting, pajama-funked, bus-haired bed casualty in real life - but the two share a common brain. One that hadn't yet absorbed enough caffeine to be registered as "functional."

Anyhoo - I stumbled through my virtual meeting while simultaneously shopping for linen roman shades for the dining room we're remodeling - and it occurred to me.

I have no more meetings today.

Half my team is not around, due to vacations, etc.

Brian is off today.

Snow?

LET'S GO SKIING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


So - after a prolonged search for our Vermont skiing gear (did I forget to tell you that today is the coldest day of the winter so far? The high today was 14), we finally packed up the Santa Fe and headed to the Belleayre Ski Resort - about 45 minutes from our house.

It was a glorious day!

The sun was shining, the slopes were groomed, there were very few skiers or snowboarders, and we had a BALL!

Neither of us fell, not even once - despite not having skied in 4 years.

We were gorgeous and agile and lithe in the snow - we sped down trails, we flew across moguls, we helped other, less fortunate people out of snow banks -- and only rarely annoyed the lift geezer by not properly interpreting his hand jiving signals regarding how you are to be seated.

We even broke for hot refreshment - a bowl of the starchiest clam chowder and coffee that tasted like ass for yours truly, and a bland and impoverished chicken noodle soup and soda for Brian. All for only $15.50.

A glorious day indeed.

But, as the sun set behind the ridge of the Catskills, we knew it was time to head for home.

On that last lift ride, our hands were cold, our feet were numb, and our butts felt as if little winter pine gnomes were pricking them with spears and slashing them with razor blades. (but I was wearing a modern-day interpretation of a classic 1940s wool ski pant that I got from Changes in Rhinebeck - so I was hot and stylish and it was totally worth the minor discomfort I suffered)

But we raced down that last trail - the sun fading behind us, the cold winter wind whipping our faces...........our freezing extremities screaming for 911.........

And then - the day was done.

We drove home - with only a stop at the totally cute and totally "you-must-go-there" German/Austrian/Swiss/Norwegian deli in Phoenicia for hot chocolate and turnovers. (Gurl - you can buy handmade knitted Scandinavian sweaters, baklava, almond pastries, and tinned herring in a variety of sauces that would make Rula Lenska blush.)

You need to go there.

Anyway - we're back. We're tired, sore and - best of all - we're happy.

Happy to have had a day for just the two of us. A day after the holiday madness where we could just be the "us" we remember.

It was delightful and funny and sunny and stupidly childish and full of laughter and bad jokes and completely...........the best day I've had in years.

We plan to have more.

So, be warned.

Happy New Year. See you on the slopes.