Retro Video of the Week

I'm not gonna lie. I wanted to post a Rick Astley video, but was way too conflicted about which one deserved a spot on this blog.

I used to have a huge thing for red heads; then I dated The Stalker and you see how that ended.

2 emails

I sent my friend Danny an email with a list of all the flea markets in Manhattan along with a note asking him when we'd be going. Here is his response:

You know you’re like a well-seasoned pimp; you lay the crack on the table and relish the joy watching your victims squirm to the threshold where you’ve achieved dominance, then seductively with a half cocked smile ask, do you like it, do you want it, do you need to go? At this point Pavlov’s dogs face competition. Yes yes give me the crack! Sign me up for the journey. You know I enjoy our adventures.

In all honesty I've always secretly thought of myself as both a pimp and a drug dealer so this email is pretty accurate.

The second email comes from a dear friend....and it made me a bit sad (the subject line said "things that break my heart":

today i broke a heel. i am poor, so i had to buy a pair of ugly shoes.

No one likes ugly shoes....and if I win the lottery I will take her to the store of her choice and buy her any pretty shoe her little heart desires.

What I am reading: I will admit that I have been watching alot of basketball....and reading alot of Stuff White People Like.
What I am listening to: Aimee Mann - You could make a killing
Current shoe obsession:

Happy Madnessmas

I left work early on Wednesday because I realized something that I had been too busy to think about before: March Madness has arrived. I needed to get out of the office if I had any hope of checking out the bracket.

The Gue wrote an entire blog post about it. I agree with a lot of the arguments.....Billy Packer really works my last nerve (Dickipedia entry here. And, no, they aren't paying my to mention them here). I've been torn for a very long time about whether more teams need to be included.

One thing I am not torn about is the fact that I hate the Duke University men's basketball team with enough fury to burn 10,000 suns. I am tired of their winning streak. I am tired of their attitudes. I can not warm up to them; I never could. And to quote this article in Slate Magazine, "As every college hoops fan knows, the one shining moment of the NCAA Tournament isn't when your favorite team wins. It's when Duke loses".

Last night they were playing against Belmont University. And to be completely honest with you when the game began I turned to the person I was watching with and asked, "Where the hell is Belmont University? Do you know ANYTHING about these guys? Are they any good"?

I was pleasantly surprised. I was rooting for them the entire game and those guys played with alot of heart. They lost by one point. Granted, that 1 point loss made me almost shed a tear for a team (or even a university) that I hadn't even heard of before.

And thats what the tournament is about. Without the selection process being what it is we'd never see a team from a small school in Tennessee almost beat a basketball powerhouse school like Duke. It was a good game. And I hope the tournament produces many more.

This is exactly like that time I discovered there was no more wine in the house.

I had planned on putting my apartment on a diet. Really. I swear.

The plan was to go room to room and throw out or sell anything that I didn't want. I prepared myself because I knew it would be hard. I was raised by children of the war, for Pete's sake. I collect things; it's in my nature!

And then, out of nowhere, I run across this quote:
Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful. --William Morris

I am so confused. And I didn't even see it coming.


Now that I'm not thinking of boys anymore we have the return of:
What I am reading: I will confess that I am not reading....I am online buying tickets to the Kahlo exhibit. I go next week!
What I am listening to: Miles Davis - All Blues

I Love You, Le Creuset.

Last Wednesday I received a very large package at my office. I didn't open it immediately because I thought it was office stuff. I could not have been more wrong. It was 3 (THREE!!!) gorgeous pieces of red Le Creuset.

I searched the box...there is no packing list, no bill, nothing. The goods came directly from Le Creuset, but I don't who ordered them. Since I've never received $500 worth of cookware in one shot I'm guessing someone out there loves me very, very much. I just don't know who.

These items didn't come from my Amazon wish list so it has to be someone that knows I collect red Le Creuset. This narrows the pool of suspects down considerably. I've called them all (starting with my mother) but no one will fess up.

I want to thank you. Hell, I want to cook you delicious food using them.

Just tell me who you are.

P.S. Would I be completely out of line if I mentioned that should you feel like dropping another 5 bills on me I really, really like the Louboutin Prive Cork Slingbacks? I wear a 41 and my birthday is next month. You know, in case.

Retro Video of the Week

Inspired by Mr. Little Man. We were watching PBS this morning.

And I apologize because if you are a part of my generation you will have this song stuck in your head all damn day.

Oh, Governor

Let's be like the rest of the country and talk about the governor of New York for a minute, shall we?

For those of you that don't know, it was recently discovered that Governor Spitzer has been seeking the company of prostitutes. This is the video of the statement he gave to the press:



My issue isn't with what he said...or even what he did. I'm much more interested in Mrs. Spitzer. I've long wondered about the bubble in which political wives are bred. It doesn't matter if the politician is holding a press conference to announce that he has been soliciting a male prostitute, or a female prostitute or even if he is announcing that he is a "gay American"; the wives are always always by their side. Stone faced and sullen.

I can assure you that if my (non existent) husband ever chooses to stick his penis inside a prostitute I will be far too busy getting an HIV test to even remotely consider standing by his side at a press conference. Or anywhere else for that matter. Except maybe down the hall giving my own press conference. Or perhaps meeting with my attorneys in an effort to bleed that low down motherfucker dry. Don't misunderstand; I'm not vindictive. I'm just worried about disease.

I do realize that the only people that truly know what goes on inside a relationship are the people living that relationship everyday. Maybe the governor and his wife have an open marriage. Maybe she doesn't care that he regularly uses prostitutes (although judging by the way she looked at the press conference I'm going to say she was clueless. She just looked shell shocked). The issue is that no matter what your obligation to your wife was you also had an obligation to your children.

And you know what? Your kids had to get up this morning and go to school. Children are notoriously cruel and not matter what kind of agreement you had with your wife (if any at all) I'm guessing your kids were clueless.

In short I'm guessing I'm going to see your Dickipedia entry any minute now.

The Commute from Heaven to Hell is only 30 minutes

This morning Jules came over super early (she came in on an early flight and needed to kick up her heels before heading back to the airport). For breakfast I had a salmon and cream cheese frittata. With blood orange mimosas. It was pure heaven.

Now I'm sitting at my desk at work getting a ton of bullshit dumped on me. It's pure hell.

And the commute from heaven to hell is only 30 minutes.

How I know I'm getting old, Part #837

I was online this morning buying tickets to see Tina Dico (May 5, 7:30 pm, Joe's Pub) when I noticed that Adele (that would be 2008's Amy Winehouse) would be playing there as well.

Then I noticed she was playing 2 shows (YAY!). Things quickly went downhill when I noticed that both shows were on weeknights. At 9:30 pm. In NYC. Again, on a weeknight.

In my previous life I could have gone out after the show, come home, showered and gone straight to work. Now that I'm old all I can think about is how impossible it is for me to go to a 9:30 pm show since it interferes with my bedtime.