Hottiez

I also watched part of Mean Girls last night. (The weather's been crummy as hell okay!) It was on TV. I often choose to watch movies when they are on TV even if I own the DVD and could watch a commercial-free and swearing-full version. It blows my mind (well, a little) that Ms DJ here on the left, LiLo's love, sings the saptastic song playing at Spring Fling. The scene in which:

Aaron: How's your stomach feeling now?
Cady: Fine.
Aaron: Well, "grool."
{Kiss}

Yeah, that song.

Thanks, Skidmore. Thanks, Study Abroad in Paris.

When I first told people--people like adults and family members, that is--I was going to part time hostess at Chez Sophie last fall, they all said things like "Perfect!," "You can speak French!," "Of course, our petite francophile!" (Okay, so this is a bit of an exaggeration). I, however, in the past 10 months of working there (holy shit, has it been 10 months?) have spoken very little French. I can pronounce items on the menu better than some, but I never have French conversations. Probably because not that many French people live in Saratoga, or visit Saratoga, and people who don't speak French are still allowed to eat in our restaurant! Odd, I know, because I always make sure to brush up on my Thai before going to the Garden and my Italian before hitting Chianti's. Weird. I guess we are less demanding of our clientele. Anyway...

Tonight a party of four came in, I took them to the table, and the older woman said, "Brrrr.... il fait froid." Woohoo, I thought. I responded in English that I would turn down the AC. The husband was so delighted I could understand French and asked me my name "Comment tu t'appelles?" "Leeeleee" je dit. "Ah! Je t'aime Leeleee!" Yes, they loved me because I could comprehend "Brrrr." The Bulgarian busser would have been totally dumbfounded by what that lady was saying as she rubbed her hands over her bare arms. Completely.

When they left, the husband "bised" me and we exchanged our "au revoirs" and "a bientots." It was all very cute and they were pleasant people, but really, that tiny bit of French knowledge, totally comprehensible by the body language alone, impressed them? Well, gee.

*****

I am listening to "Say Yes" by Elliott Smith right now because I watched Good Will Hunting last night and this song has been stuck in my head all day and sometimes listening to stuck songs unsticks them. If not, oh well; it's pretty.

12 days and beacoup a faire!

LG the next LC?

Last night, Jocelyn, Moira, Ben, Johnny, and I were befriended by the CFO of CMT, MTV, and VH1.

Blah, blah, blah lots of funny things were said. I'll probably expand this post later, but I just realized the Farmer's Market clock is ticking.

I asked him if he could get me on TV.
Yeah, you could be on TV.
Cool. Can I have your card?
[Hands me his American Express]
Um, your business card?
[Hands me and Jocelyn his whole wallet]
I don't see any business cards. Nevermind. I'll find my own way on to the Hills.
How do I get back to Hoboken?
Tonight? From here? We're in Saratoga.
Oh. Shit.

"Club Rules"

The Burkes, Jocelyn, Bob, and I played mini golf tonight in Milton. Not to be confused with Wilton. Last year when I went there I lost pretty badly against Laura and Matt, but tonight I redeemed myself. Second place. I am proud of this. Even though someone today mentioned a No Fear t-shirt that reads "Second Place is the First Loser." F that. I say F because there was a No Cursing sign at the start of the course, which is really quite the challenge when you are dealing with mysterious bumps in the astroturf and rivers whose water looks like airplane toilet fluid. I started saying "How rude" (Stephanie Tanner, thank you) when the ball or terrain did something unpleasant, but started saying "bitches" pretty quickly when the bugs started biting. I was scorekeeper and clever me revealed the winners and losers Project Runway style.... though it was a challenge to be both Heidi Klum the judge ("You may leave the runway") and Heidi Klum the contestant ("I am leaving the runway")... and Heidi Klum eatintg soft serve ("Yum... but Farmer's Daughter is better"). Bob captured great photos tonight which I hope he will share on the Book.

At karaoke I sang the Gin Blossoms'"Hey Jealousy," "Sk8r Boi" (again), and "Fuck and Run" by Liz Phair. While waiting to be Liz Phair, I noticed the smaller TV at the Alley was showing the movie Wicker Park. I rented Wicker Park a few nights ago, even though it's a terrible movie, because I am on a Chicago kick (duh), so I recognized the scene right away. I texted my new roomie to tell her that was on. How weird, I thought. Movies are never on at the Alley. Just sports and news. That movie of all movies. A sign. I then said I was waiting to sing "F and Run" by Liz Phair. She replied that Liz wrote that album while living in WP. (Ally, I am not stealing your synchronicity theme, but really, how weird).

When I finally got up to sing the song, which a lot of people did not know, and got to the line "Fuck and run, even when I was 12," Ally yelled, "slut." The woman in front of her had just taken a pretty shoddy pool shot and thought Ally was talking to her. How rude that would have been. Needless to say some clarifications needed to be made.

.....

I am flying when I move afterall. No father daughter road trip. Long story.

.....

Lights out at 3. Club rules. Goodnight.

Hey, Stud

I am surrounded by ugly art right now and I can't talk about it because I am with Bob, and Bob knows the artist who is somewhere around here still putting up hideous paintings, so I am gonna blog about it instead. Lucky you. I think I will go outside to take a walk soon because I don't think I can look at "Piggy Back Nymphs" any longer. The nymphs look like the Planter's Peanuts guy, but have tails and horns. The tails and horns have leaves on them. Branches, I suppose. Basically they are peanut-shaped trees, one giving the other a piggyback ride through a universe of grass-covered orbs. At sunset. Pink, purple, and orange sunset.

For sale. $425. My birthday's in March.

.....

Last night, Chicago roomie texted me (from the Battles show, so jealous) "You move to Chicago this month!"

It is true, and I am excited.

.....

Ally just walked in, while I was finishing up this post, and said "I had to come in here and see [person's name]'s art!" The art that I am blogging about. And don't like. And she wants to buy one. She is a foot away from me and won't know I'm blogging about this and her until sometime later today when she reads this and will say to herself: "synchronicity!"

I'm gonna board the midnight train. I got to go, I got to go.

I am listening to "American Boy" right now by Estelle and Kanye and just noticed a lyric for the first time: "I'm feeling like the Pips and the Gladys." However, I Googled the lyrics out of curiosity, and they are listed as "I'm feeling like the pimps at their gladdest." Hmmm. The reason I am writing this is because I took Gladys Knight's room service order on Thursday night. I don't deliver the room service, just take the orders, but I talked to her. She told me her name was Raven.

I was excited by celebrity encounter #2 of track season, but only a select few of my friends knew who she was when I told the story. Maybe I am crazy, got the Pips on the brain, and imagined this Kanye lyric. But, I think I am right and the lyric transcribers are just like the dumb people who said "Gladys who?"

Ever since people at the restaurant realized I can communicate with the kitchen staff and type, I now "do" the menu. Last night we had a Kona kampachi cooked in the Bercy style which means with "shallots, white whine and fish stock." And that is exactly what I wrote. The owner approached me and asked how the fish was cooked. I noticed the typo right away. Oops. The mistake was noted before I filled all the menus and gave them to any guests, and she considered leaving it on there to see who would catch it, who would chuckle. It probably would have added some humor to an otherwise tense and grumpy night. I think that typo is a sign I spend too much thinking about white whines, looking at the website White Whine, and just whining in general.

.....

On a more serious note, the last of three cats I have liked in my lifetime died yesterday. My dad found their cat Junior in a woodchuck trap last night. I really can't imagine. He sounded really upset and said he never wants another pet because he gets too attached. This makes me truly sad. I tried to find an appropriate condolence gift when I was in town today to bring when I go over there for dinner tomorrow night, but didn't have any luck.

.....

I have exactly three weeks and so much to do.

I echo: "Oh, Saratoga"

A few questions & observations.

City Hall
I've wondered for quite sometime about the birds that chirp when I walk by here at night. I always mean to ask someone about this, but I usually pass "them" when I am leaving the restaurant alone and headed to meet friends. Tonight, I headed straight home, and so now I ask the blogger world (aka my friends, digitalized): what is their purpose? I know they aren't real. Is that some sort of alarm? Someone please explain.

Creepy Goblin Dolls
Today, I heard a woman say to her husband, "Oh, I love those. We should get one for the downstairs bathroom" about the long-haired, red-eyed goblin dolls that stand in the window of the gift store in the Arcade building. They have scared me probably since my freshmen year of college. Why do they exist?

Caroline Street
I also heard a lady say, "Oh, honey, that's the street that scares me. Let's not turn down there" when passing the intersection of Broadway and Caroline today. This time of year, I almost agree. But this was late morning when she said this. Again, don't get it.

ICU Optics
I C U Optics. Clever, I guess. I see you. I can see you because I have great glasses from this store. Still, I think this is a terrible name for a store. I hear "ICU," I think "Intensive Care Unit." Maybe that's just me. Maybe I watched too much "ER" in my youth.

That's all. I wasn't walking around town today, wondering "what can I blog about?" (This would probably be a more interesting post if I had been.) I think I am just super observant lately. Probably because I am leaving soon. Taking it all in while I still can?

In other news, last summer a very nice old man struck up conversation with me one lunch break while I was reading Absurdistan outside Uncommon. He wanted to know about the book. Then we got into a long talk about politics and discoverd he had audited one of my favorite Skidmore government classes. We chatted a few more times after that, but then one day I waved and he didn't register it, so I stopped waving. I've probably seen him every day since, and we haven't spoken. I didn't take offense. He's old. Bad vision or bad memory, whatever. Today, he and I were both on the corner waiting for the light to change, and he turned to me and said "HEY! I know you!" We let the light flip from red hand to little man quite a few times and caught up. It was nice. He wished me well in my "future endeavors."

I like this bizzare little place.