Get paid $500-700 a week (depending on experience) to wipe the ass of an apparently profoundly physically and mentally handicapped "Grammy Nominated Urban Artist in the Music Industry."
Better brush up the ol' resume!
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
food orgy
Due to rampant hiring at my restaurant, five of my fellow servers and I found ourselves free on the same night. So we gathered at an expatriate cook's new place of employment and did what we do best.
Things I Consumed Last Night at Gramercy Tavern
*two glasses of crisp, refreshing malvasia
*spiced walnuts and cashews
*seven cheeses from Vermont, Ireland, England, Spain, France, and California (my heart now belongs to Humboldt Fog)
*four glasses of an earthy grenache-syrah blend
*three oysters of unknown origin
*grilled baby octopus with shaved fennel
*chicken liver crostini
*quail with ramps and mustard seeds
*one glass of very expensive rioja
*fresh one-inch-thick bacon with spaetzle and the so-hot-right-now fiddlehead ferns
*some butter with a little potato puree in it
*a glass of late-harvest sauvignon blanc
*a glass of muller thurgau grappa
*three desserts, the ingredients of which failed to register by this point
*heaps of compliments from managers and waitstaff about how much they love our restaurant
I think perhaps we might go back there sometime. Like this Friday.
Incidentally, Gramercy Tavern is now both the former and reigning location of the Best Thing I Have Ever Tasted In My Life. Before it was their braised lamb shoulder on the Main Dining Room prix-fixe menu. Now it is the Tavern menu's bacon, which is as thick as it is wide and probably 95% pure, delicious pig fat. A lot of Zoloft prescriptions could go unfilled if more people knew about this particular bacon. (And if there was any question, FAB, it's worth a flight up from Atlanta.)
Things I Consumed Last Night at Gramercy Tavern
*two glasses of crisp, refreshing malvasia
*spiced walnuts and cashews
*seven cheeses from Vermont, Ireland, England, Spain, France, and California (my heart now belongs to Humboldt Fog)
*four glasses of an earthy grenache-syrah blend
*three oysters of unknown origin
*grilled baby octopus with shaved fennel
*chicken liver crostini
*quail with ramps and mustard seeds
*one glass of very expensive rioja
*fresh one-inch-thick bacon with spaetzle and the so-hot-right-now fiddlehead ferns
*some butter with a little potato puree in it
*a glass of late-harvest sauvignon blanc
*a glass of muller thurgau grappa
*three desserts, the ingredients of which failed to register by this point
*heaps of compliments from managers and waitstaff about how much they love our restaurant
I think perhaps we might go back there sometime. Like this Friday.
Incidentally, Gramercy Tavern is now both the former and reigning location of the Best Thing I Have Ever Tasted In My Life. Before it was their braised lamb shoulder on the Main Dining Room prix-fixe menu. Now it is the Tavern menu's bacon, which is as thick as it is wide and probably 95% pure, delicious pig fat. A lot of Zoloft prescriptions could go unfilled if more people knew about this particular bacon. (And if there was any question, FAB, it's worth a flight up from Atlanta.)
Friday, April 21, 2006
last night's brush with fame
Scene: My restaurant last night, circa 7 p.m. I am very very busy and the hostess is nowhere near the phone.
Gina: Goodeveningthankyouforcalling[myrestaurant]thisisGina!
Michael Stipe: Hi, Gina! It's Michael Stipe!
Gina: . . .
Michael Stipe: What's your availability tonight for six?
Gina: . . .
Gina: Uh, holdonasecondplease.
End scene.
At least I didn't approach him during the course of his meal and tell him how I saw the "Losing My Religion" video for the first time back in second grade at my friend Sarah's house and it, like, totally changed my life and stuff. I did, however, probably stare a little too much at ol' Mike and Patti Smith getting cozy at their table. Cult Rock Heros, They're Just Like Us! They Eat Panini With Friends!
Gina: Goodeveningthankyouforcalling[myrestaurant]thisisGina!
Michael Stipe: Hi, Gina! It's Michael Stipe!
Gina: . . .
Michael Stipe: What's your availability tonight for six?
Gina: . . .
Gina: Uh, holdonasecondplease.
End scene.
At least I didn't approach him during the course of his meal and tell him how I saw the "Losing My Religion" video for the first time back in second grade at my friend Sarah's house and it, like, totally changed my life and stuff. I did, however, probably stare a little too much at ol' Mike and Patti Smith getting cozy at their table. Cult Rock Heros, They're Just Like Us! They Eat Panini With Friends!
Monday, April 17, 2006
happy happy joy joy
Summer in New York officially began on Saturday, April 15th. Though it's even lamer to talk about the weather on a blog than in a real live conversation, I have to mention that the environmental conditions were absolutely perfect. I pulled myself right out of my recent funk with several hours in the Hudson River Park watching dogs and reading magazines followed by quesadillas and to-go margaritas followed by an impromptu bratwurst grilling bonanza on my roof at midnight. Today (a little chilly towards the end, but still quite nice) was for walking all over the southern part of the island and buying the first dress I've ever bought that I actually will probably wear more than once. Even though I need some Ben-Gay for my legs and I had to withdraw cash three times at the $100-per-transaction bodega ATM, I am pleased. I am also pleased by these pictures my dad took of my crazy terrier, Daisy, as she attacks the stuffed George Bush dog toy my uncle brought up from Chicago.
Monday, April 10, 2006
back on the wagon!
Well, the blog wagon at least. The other wagon will have to just roll on by with out me, since the time for to-go margaritas and brown-bagging in the park is nigh.
Here's some random funniness.
*The new game show Deal or No Deal is quite possibly the single worst television show I have ever seen in my entire life. And I'm including The View, Joey, and Revealed With Jules Asner here. It is pointless, uninteresting, and insulting to anyone with a chimpanzee-or-higher IQ. Zulkey's intro to the pointless, uninteresting, and sub-chimp-level IQ "models" of Deal or No Deal, however, is hilarious.
*While we're on the topic of awful television, let's talk about the informercial for Dual Action Cleanse, which, I have to say, beats out Richard Simmons, RonCo, and Climatique for my favorite infomercial of all time. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, A., you need to watch more TV, and B., proceed to Four Four immediately. The talk about four-year olds' poo, the "doctor's" sequined striped sweater, and the creepy-looking inventor named Klee. Pure unintentional comedic genius. Of course, it should come as no surprise that Dual Action Cleanse is a substantial load of detoxified crap (sorry, I had to.)
*I will never forget the first time I saw a PartyBike. It was near my old apartment on the Upper West Side, an area typically safe from the tourist nonsense 20 blocks south. Or so I thought. While walking to Starbucks for my morning soy latte I saw an octopus-esque vehicle go by with seven traditionally midwestern (i.e., morbidly obese) people perched on little bike seats. I stared in stunned horror until the PartyBike disappeared into the horizon. If you're like me and need a second (or first) job, PartyBike is hiring! Incidentally, the PartyBike testimonial from Likesta P. has just made my day:
these family members are all having orgasms
Here's some random funniness.
*The new game show Deal or No Deal is quite possibly the single worst television show I have ever seen in my entire life. And I'm including The View, Joey, and Revealed With Jules Asner here. It is pointless, uninteresting, and insulting to anyone with a chimpanzee-or-higher IQ. Zulkey's intro to the pointless, uninteresting, and sub-chimp-level IQ "models" of Deal or No Deal, however, is hilarious.
*While we're on the topic of awful television, let's talk about the informercial for Dual Action Cleanse, which, I have to say, beats out Richard Simmons, RonCo, and Climatique for my favorite infomercial of all time. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, A., you need to watch more TV, and B., proceed to Four Four immediately. The talk about four-year olds' poo, the "doctor's" sequined striped sweater, and the creepy-looking inventor named Klee. Pure unintentional comedic genius. Of course, it should come as no surprise that Dual Action Cleanse is a substantial load of detoxified crap (sorry, I had to.)
*I will never forget the first time I saw a PartyBike. It was near my old apartment on the Upper West Side, an area typically safe from the tourist nonsense 20 blocks south. Or so I thought. While walking to Starbucks for my morning soy latte I saw an octopus-esque vehicle go by with seven traditionally midwestern (i.e., morbidly obese) people perched on little bike seats. I stared in stunned horror until the PartyBike disappeared into the horizon. If you're like me and need a second (or first) job, PartyBike is hiring! Incidentally, the PartyBike testimonial from Likesta P. has just made my day:
Likesta P. [Ukraine 12/12/2004]
Party bike is like the coolest thing I like ever did. Big Andre drove our party bike with skill, agility, and precision. He executed turns like no other. The whole experience with the party bike and Big Andre left me very aroused and flustered. We met Big A in rockafeller center and he looked stunning and me and my entourage could do nothing but approach this handsome fellow. I had the time of my life and i owe it all to Andre and his electrifying personality and good will towards men. I will definitely go again with my friends to ride this magical bike A.S.A.P!!!!
these family members are all having orgasms
Saturday, April 08, 2006
what?!?
At 4 a.m. this morning, I sent the above Easter greeting, originally sent to me by my dad, to pretty much everyone I know. I almost never send email forwards, I stopped caring about Easter when my parents stopped giving me Easter baskets about seven years ago, and I wasn't even that drunk. Though this is a mystery that likely will never be solved, I think it has something to do with the way that Gmail will fill in an address for you after you type the first letter or two. "E"...oooh there's Ellen, "A"...and Alexa, oh and Andrew! "R"...and Raegan and Rhett and Ryan, oh my! I am easily amused.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
what happens in ithaca stays in ithaca
And most things in Ithaca stay pretty much the same.
This past weekend Ellen and I made the pilgrimage back to Ithaca, where we found ourselves last year taking life-altering breaks from the big city. In three days we managed to see everyone we planned (and didn't plan) to see. Here are the updates:
Morgan
My former roommate continues to blow my mind with her antics and I love her for it. On Saturday night the 26-year-old law student left her friend's house at 4:30 a.m. to walk home. Ellen and I were a little worried when she hadn't shown up by 3 p.m. the next day and her cellphone and wallet were in our possession, but all was right with the world when she came home in a mysterious vehicle and told us that on her walk home she'd gotten in a car with some frat boys she didn't know and eventually fell asleep at Sigma Chi.
Rob
At our favorite place for beer we ran into the hippie who lived in Morgan's attic. Though his hippie girlfriend had pissed off our other roommate Cody prompting the hippie couple to move to Mexico, he's since returned to Ithaca and is going to have a hippie baby. He still talks like he's been smoking a lot of the "quality African herrrb" that he used to offer me while I was lying on the couch watching America's Next Top Model on VHS.
The Law Students
Every delusion I'd ever had about law school being a potential option for me was obliterated when I got to Ithaca. Law school, or more specifically, top tier law school, is the most depressing institution I can think of. Unless you're insane, it sucks when you're there, and then you graduate and you're either a miserable lawyer or in a miserable amount of debt. At least there's Law School Prom to keep everyone happy! Complete with a $20 cover, non-free drinks, a king and queen, and a sing-along to Livin' on a Prayer. It was at the dinosaur museum. Needless to say, Ellen and I planted ourselves in the corner and made fun of nerds dancing with glowsticks until it got old.
The Regulars
After the painful yet amusing prom debacle, we went to my former place of employment for a drink. The bartender I'd hooked up with is still working there and still says he'll be quitting soon. He didn't immediately ask for money when he handed over our drinks so I just didn't give him any and didn't feel at all bad about that. To my delight, the holy trinity of old-man regulars was there. This includes Creepy Roger who runs between the restaurant, cafe, and lounge like he owns the place, hits on undergrad girls, and occasionally applies for a job there without success, David the Math Professor who is cute and quiet, dresses like a 10-year-old boy, and drinks 2-4 pints of Sierra Nevada until closing, and Fabio John, the physicist with a long golden mane who hits on blondes, talks about his friendship with Carl Sagan and his adventures riding whales in Hawaii, and wears the exact same thing every day, which is a too-small pair of Levi's, a royal purple button down shirt, and a brown tweed blazer.
Tate
Morgan's beagle is still fat, allergic to dust mites, and totally fucking adorable.
Gina and Ellen
Though we've moved away from Ithaca and are now enjoying our Ithaca-influenced lives in New York City, we always like to try new things, Ithaca-style
and we still find great humor in bodily functions.
This past weekend Ellen and I made the pilgrimage back to Ithaca, where we found ourselves last year taking life-altering breaks from the big city. In three days we managed to see everyone we planned (and didn't plan) to see. Here are the updates:
Morgan
My former roommate continues to blow my mind with her antics and I love her for it. On Saturday night the 26-year-old law student left her friend's house at 4:30 a.m. to walk home. Ellen and I were a little worried when she hadn't shown up by 3 p.m. the next day and her cellphone and wallet were in our possession, but all was right with the world when she came home in a mysterious vehicle and told us that on her walk home she'd gotten in a car with some frat boys she didn't know and eventually fell asleep at Sigma Chi.
Rob
At our favorite place for beer we ran into the hippie who lived in Morgan's attic. Though his hippie girlfriend had pissed off our other roommate Cody prompting the hippie couple to move to Mexico, he's since returned to Ithaca and is going to have a hippie baby. He still talks like he's been smoking a lot of the "quality African herrrb" that he used to offer me while I was lying on the couch watching America's Next Top Model on VHS.
The Law Students
Every delusion I'd ever had about law school being a potential option for me was obliterated when I got to Ithaca. Law school, or more specifically, top tier law school, is the most depressing institution I can think of. Unless you're insane, it sucks when you're there, and then you graduate and you're either a miserable lawyer or in a miserable amount of debt. At least there's Law School Prom to keep everyone happy! Complete with a $20 cover, non-free drinks, a king and queen, and a sing-along to Livin' on a Prayer. It was at the dinosaur museum. Needless to say, Ellen and I planted ourselves in the corner and made fun of nerds dancing with glowsticks until it got old.
The Regulars
After the painful yet amusing prom debacle, we went to my former place of employment for a drink. The bartender I'd hooked up with is still working there and still says he'll be quitting soon. He didn't immediately ask for money when he handed over our drinks so I just didn't give him any and didn't feel at all bad about that. To my delight, the holy trinity of old-man regulars was there. This includes Creepy Roger who runs between the restaurant, cafe, and lounge like he owns the place, hits on undergrad girls, and occasionally applies for a job there without success, David the Math Professor who is cute and quiet, dresses like a 10-year-old boy, and drinks 2-4 pints of Sierra Nevada until closing, and Fabio John, the physicist with a long golden mane who hits on blondes, talks about his friendship with Carl Sagan and his adventures riding whales in Hawaii, and wears the exact same thing every day, which is a too-small pair of Levi's, a royal purple button down shirt, and a brown tweed blazer.
Tate
Morgan's beagle is still fat, allergic to dust mites, and totally fucking adorable.
Gina and Ellen
Though we've moved away from Ithaca and are now enjoying our Ithaca-influenced lives in New York City, we always like to try new things, Ithaca-style
and we still find great humor in bodily functions.
