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++++++++++++

phone home

10/25/00
I don't know why it is that I always end up missing the movies I want to see most. This movie "The Dream Catcher" was only playing at one theater for only four (or it might've been five) nights a couple weeks ago. It sounded right up my alley--all about two troubled runaway teenage boys who meet up do who know's what. It's one of those kinds of things where you just figure it'll open at another theater, like I made a big fuss about seeing "42 Up" the week it came it since it was a limited engagement and then it ended up running at other theaters for a spell. However, "The Dream Catcher" has yet to show up anywhere. Oh well, I guess. I did make a point of seeing another CATCHER movie last week called "Ratcatcher," strangely enough. It was all bleak and unrelenting just like I love a film to be. It was a depressing little tale of a Scottish boy living in Council housing in the 70's during a garbagemen's strike. He's semi-responsible for a friend drowning in a canal, and of course he's all freaky and tormented and sexually misguided. If anyone has seen this, please let me know your interpretation of the ending (I won't say what it is) because I'm not sure what I think. Sad stuff. It reminded me of all those 60's British "kitchen sink realism" films, but in color. Sordid, dreary and dreamy at the same time. And speaking of those films, I just noticed today that one of my favorite's in that genre, "The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner" is playing Sun. and Mon. in some newly restored version. If I miss that, there will be hell to pay. Jeez, I'm starting to sound like some film nut, which I'm not really at all. I had an odd day. There was this whole rigamarole with trying to track down my former employers since I have been trying to get a new job, if you didn't know, and it's kind of a good thing to be able to prove you actually worked where you said you did. And I mentioned that incident a few weeks back where one of the owners had called and left a phone #, but I blew a fuse and lost it (I ended up blowing the fuse again last week and it's so not my fault. Last time I'd been using the toaster and hairdryer from the same outlet. But after that I moved the hairdryer to the bedroom to avoid such mishaps and I was using it and microwaving leftover Chinese food and it happened again. It's so frustrating because I can't fix it myself. The fuse box is locked in the basement and the landlord seems to be opposed to giving me a key. Her husband had to come out and gave me some stupid lecture and I was being very nice and polite and said how I would hate for him to have to keep coming out here. Then he was silent for a few seconds and said, "When did you tell my wife you were moving?" What an ass. I'd vaguely mentioned something about Oct. back in June when my lease was up, but I didn't know that four months later I'd be out of a job and without the means to move. I swear, even with a job I doubt I'll have the means to move). But anyway, somehow I got suckered into doing data entry crap for my former employer today. I figured it was cash, and anything under the table shouldn't be scoffed at since it won't interfere with my unemployment money (those bastards sent me letter saying that since it's the three month mark, half way, I have to come in with all these forms and a list of every job I've applied for with contact names and numbers. The annoying part is that they've arbitrarily scheduled it for 8:30 am next friday in Flushing. 8:30?! In Flushing?! It doesn't look that far on a map, but there aren't any direct subway or bus lines to speak of. I'm going to have to get up at 6 in the freakin' morning). I also thought that maybe I would be righting some bad karma by tying up loose ends job-wise and that now good things would come my way. At least I'd like to believe that. It was an easy $90, I worked less than six hours and got a free lunch, to boot. It doesn't take much to please me and I'm not sure if that's a good thing anymore.

10/23/00
It's a shame that all the good Japanese snack food companies have lame English sections. I was just looking up brands like Pocky, Meiji and Calbee and it looked like they had all this fun stuff involving cartoon potato chips and the like, but the full effect was lost on me since I couldn't read any of it. Yesterday, I thought I'd be smart by checking out the new H&M in Paramus, NJ instead of braving the overhyped Manhattan version. The only way for me to shop sanely is in the suburbs. Heaven only knows why I moved to a densely populated metropolis when I hate crowds. I thought I could swing by H&M, pick up some fall clothes, pass through the Japanese mini mall in Edgewater and bask in the glory of the recently opened Target down the road. What I didn't realize was that there are "Blue Laws" in effect in Bergen County, New Jersey. I'm still not clear on the finer points, but it's some Puritan holdover about stores having to be closed on the Sabbath. Call me naive, but I'd never heard of such a thing. The Target was closed, so was T.J. Maxx and Bed Bath and Beyond, but Old Navy remained open so it must have something to do with clothing stores being exempt. Mitsuwa shopping center was open so at least I got to eat some tempura in the food court, pick up some salted plum/shrimp chips, and nibble on a mystery snack that I think was mochi on a skewer dipped in sweet red bean paste, but you never know. The grocery part of the store was seemingly normal until I got to the aisle with the rice cookers and Hello Kitty waffle makers and there was a metal gate blocking both ends with a sign that said something about being closed due to Bergen County law. What sort of backwoods regulation is this?! No Sanrio appliances on the Sabbath? You're like 10 minutes from New York City and all of a sudden all sense of what's good and right is thrown out the window. I've got to look further into these Blue Laws because it just isn't making any sense to me. Since my New Jersey excursion was cut short, I ended up going to this big thrift store in Brooklyn called Domseys. I don't think the place is anything remarkable, but they did have these odd 99 cent nail decals (I've been getting all into the nail decals since I have the free time to be messing around with cutting and pasting the tacky little stickers). It's standard to see things like hearts, butterflies or flowers, but I'd never seen trees before. I mean, who's dying to put stylized pine trees on their fingers (other than myself, of course)? I guess that's why they were 99 cents. Saturday night I saw a bunch of Le Grand Magistery bands Momus, Baxendale and Stars (who are super good--probably my favorite at the moment--they're sort of 80's, sort of jazzy, like a mish mash of a warmer sounding Pet Shop Boys and The Beautiful South. James said they sounded like they could be in the background of an adult movie, not an adult movie, but something starring Barbra Streisand or Nick Nolte. We clearly don't agree on music. I was mildly alarmed that the lead singer had on a Saint Etienne shirt--why does everyone like them so much?!) play at Fez. And I know I'm getting old, or maybe just cranky, because I couldn't bear standing up so long. The thing started at 7:30, I didn't go til 8:30 so I didn't get a seat and it didn't end til around 2:30. I had to sneak out twice--once to get a pizza (with bacon, gorgonzola, apples and honey. I don't know why fruity pizzas are so underappreciated. The night before I was lucky enough to get a Hawaiian slice at this place I often go to that never has it. It was certainly my weekend) and another time to just to sit and get air, but ended up getting sucked into the World Series. I think people were miffed because I ended up missing the band (My Life Story) who put me on the guest list, but I couldn't help it. I don't stand up six hours straight for anyone, not even for cute British boys.

By the by, I just updated some restaurant stuff : Red Lobster, National Cafe, Mandarin Court and Tai Pan Bakery. Also, the new Halloween goodies that have caught my fancy lately.

10/20/00
I haven't been up to anything terribly exciting and yet it seems that I haven't had a free moment to write anything here all week. I can't figure out where my time goes. I did get the wonderful opportunity to check out the Ikea on Long Island. I don't know what it is about these stores--they're a total nightmare. I wonder if they're crazy mobbed and full of screaming kids and pushy people everywhere. I never went to one before I moved here since I think the only one in the N.W. is in Seattle. The big thing here is going to the one in N.J. because it's just across the Hudson River and there's a free shuttle bus from Port Authority. I bunch of Manhattanites going nuts over cheap furniture isn't a pretty sight. That's why I figured the harder-to-get-to location on Long Island would be more humane. It was a little better, but I was sort of disappointed that they closed the restaurant early and I couldn't get my Sweedish meatball special. Luckily, there was a Red Lobster at the mall across the street. There's nothing like spending a Saturday night at Red Lobster in Hicksville, NY (that's really the name of the city) to make you feel like a complete nut. I've also been busy seeing CMJ shows (I still don't know what that stands for. I even went to their website and never once do they spell out the acronym). I figure that I've got to take advantage of my unemployment while I can and stay out late as much as possible. You can't go around seeing shows that start at midnight, deal with the 45 min. subway ride and make it back home at a reasonable hour. I didn't get home til 5:30 am on thurs. and it felt like old times. It's been a while since I've been out til the wee hours and had to do the Queens trudge. It wasn't a treat when I used to do it every weekend and it still doesn't thrill me much. Ack, I've got lots more to say, but I need to leave for an interview in less than an hour.

10/16/00
I don't know what's going on, but this evening I turned on "Jeopardy" and there was this category, Feline Phrases, and one of the questions had--get this--C.C. Deville presenting it! What is up with C.C. all over the place these days?! By the way, no one got the answer right. They wanted to know the title of a Poison record that fit the CATegory and some retard said, "The Cat's Out of the Bag." Oh boy.

10/11/00
Yesterday I got up early (for me-9:45) so I could be in Chinatown at noon for dim sum and as I usually do, turned on the TV and started making coffee. Normally, something hideous like "The View" is on (at 11:00. I recently found out that my mom tapes the show and watches it after work, which I just can't understand) but instead I got a glimpse of that new beastly show hosted by Cybill Shepherd (I think I just murdered the spelling of her name), "Men Are From Mars Women Are From Venus" (and children are from Uranus-oh ho, I'm full of toilet humor this evening-blame it on my painful rotting tooth and overdose of sinus medication) and was about to turn the channel when I saw something so unbelievable that I thought maybe I actually hadn't really gotten out of bed yet and was in a demented dream state. It looked like C.C. Deville from Poison was sitting on the stage. The topic was infidelities in marriages and they had some therapist on and folks who were cheaters (didn't you know that men want sex and women want intimacy? Reinforce all your gender stereotypes daily with a dose of this program) so I don't know why good ol' C.C. would be on. But it really was C.C. and as you may know, I love the guy. He's like 2 feet tall with a total 3 pack a day Brooklyn accent, foul mouth and used to be like 300 pounds and lived with his mom. So, I ended up watching the whole show. I hate that show. Whoever books the guests on that show must know what they're doing because it certainly got me engrossed. Later, I cashed that money order from my dad, got the money and hightailed it out of the bank before they realized it was no good (but like I've said, I doubt my dad had the smarts to actually cancel the thing) then got my dim sum and decided to go shopping. I'm not really a big fan of shopping in Manhattan, but I figured a tues. afternoon would be low key as it could get. I went to my favorite Asian stationery store, Romantic Music and Gifts, and bought a bunch of crap like a Hello Kitty eyelash curler and ice cube tray that makes Sanrio characters and got hip to the new trend, which appears to be cartoon hamsters all over everything. I never used to be much of a perfume person, but for the past year I've been wearing Lolita Lempicka (this description makes it sound really gross--something about going from girl to woman, I think), which is very nice and licorice-y and vanilla-ish. However, it's almost gone and I wanted to try something new so I went to Sephora and picked up Hanae Mori Butterfly, which smell a lot like cotton candy. I also wanted to replace one or two of my stolen eye shadows, but of course they were out of the color I wanted so I got Urban Decay's Road Stripe instead (a pearly white that looks blue-lavender at certain angles). I felt nervous spending $75 on beauty crap, but justified it since I now had my birthday money. I counteracted the Sephora binge by going to Old Navy and only buying sale items. I picked up a $12 pair of pants and a $12 burgundy cord jean jacket (neither fit when I got them home, but what can you do?). I got stupid and went to Century 21. I hate this place, but everyone thinks it's the best thing on earth. I guess it's huge and has all sorts of marked down designer items, which is great if you wear a size 5 shoe or size 2 dress because you're not going to find any "regular" sizes since the place is always ransacked to hell. And half price off an ugly pair of $400 Versace shoes is still no bargain. I only went because they have high quality, reasonably priced tights, socks, underwear etc. and it's gotten so cold that it's tights time again and I'm tired of $1.99 tights that rip after one wearing. But since I don't have a watch, I had no idea what time it was. All I knew was that Century 21 was way too crowded for a weekday afternoon and that it must be after work time by now so I got the hell out of there and took a rush hour subway to Loehmans to look for shoes. I did end up finding this pair of Bebe slingbacks with little hearts cut out near the toes, but they didn't have my size (same thing happened at Century 21). Then I tried on a pair of boots, but I can never get the thing zipped all the way over my calf. Now my calf isn't that giant so it's really irritating. I got all annoyed and then the aisle got so crowded that I couldn't even tie my shoes and I stormed out of the place in a huff and headed to James's which is walking distance from there. When I got there I wanted to look at my new perfume and that's when I realized that my Sephora bag was missing. I went absolutely insane. I blamed it on the curse of Nasario (my dad). Like I only get my money order back to be tormented 20 times over. It couldn't have been the cheap, ill-fitting Old Navy clothes that I lost or my bag of sweet Chinese coconut buns or the Sanrio knick knacks. No, it had to be the pricey stuff and replacement for the eye shadow that had already been stolen once. I was totally livid and irrational and James said we should call the places I'd been and I thought that was dumb because who'd ever find it and besides, I could've dropped the bag on the subway or the sidewalk or anywhere. But he called Loehmans (so what if I'm a baby and couldn't call myself) and it turned out that they did have it in the lost and found, which was completely amazing to me. I'm sure that when those boots wouldn't zip up and I stormed off all pissy that I didn't get all my bags off the ground. So, that was a very good thing and I had to run back before they closed at 9:00. On the way back I cut through Union Square and some little girl accosted me when I was almost to the light and crossing the street. She was selling M&M's for some homeless shelter and I hate that annoying shit, but I was so tired that I said I'd take one. I thought that maybe by getting rid of the remaining birthday money, I'd lose the effects of Nasario's curse. Yet, I balked when she said the candy was $2. Two dollars for a bag of freakin' M&M's?! But I bought them anyway. No one ever said getting rid of bad karma was going to be cheap.

10/8/00
Oh lord. I hesitate to talk about things personal to others, but sometimes you just have to throw caution to the wind. James, that's the guy I've been dating for a while and feel gross mentioning too much, has a crazy mother that he calls "mama" even at the age of 30. I'm not allowed to meet her and that's fine because all the things I've heard about her sound really scary and it's guaranteed that she would hate my guts. I won't even go into all the freaky examples I've heard of emotional and physical abuse, but anyway, she decided to come to New York out of the blue this weekend so I had to steer clear, which sounds silly, but I don't want some crazy Spanish woman in leopard skin trying to physically assault me. So I ended up staying at James's apt. on fri. night anyway and it was nerve-wracking because his phone wasn't working and we had no idea what time she'd show up sat. morning and then like some bad sit com, the buzzer started ringing at 9 am sharp (my first thought was that I was at home and it was the mailman with my stolen stuff from Canada-I'd been waiting for weeks for that crap to show up, but then I realized I wasn't home) and I was in my underwear and maybe it's funny to have parents walk in on their kids with girls in their beds on TV, but in real life it's less comical. I was all hungover, had sheet marks creased into my face, my hair was a mess and I had to jump up, get dressed and hightail it out of there. Well, he went downstairs and no one was there so he assumed she was at a pay phone, which wouldn't do any good anyway since the phone was broken, but whatever, I just took off all annoyed really because I was so tired and disoriented. I get home and it turns out that it after all that mayhem, it wasn't even mama after all, it was the phone company guys. I ended up going back to bed since I was cranky. Then I was woken up by my buzzer and this time it really was the mailman with my stuff from Canada. The things is when I spoke to the police they said they had a "bag with make up and some papers." I assumed they meant my purse bag and that maybe some good stuff would still be inside, but this package was tiny. It turned out that the bag was just my make up bag, not the main bag and every single "good" item had been taken. Like they totally knew what they were doing. All the expensive stuff was gone (including my tweezers and nose hair trimmer [don't ask]) and all the was left was broken Maybelline crap, a Wet 'n' Wild pencil sharpener and an empty sunglasses case. Things from the front pocket of my bag like gum, keys (mine and Dassi's, the friend I was staying with) and condoms were put in the make up bag, but things I cared about like my scaredy kat necklace and address book were long gone. It made me really sad. I'd gotten my hopes up about what I'd get back. The most fucked up part was that the $100 money order from my dad was still in there. It'd been removed from the envelope with the birthday card, but was in one piece. And the really fucked up thing is that my dad is such a retard that he never even signed it to me. The pay to the order of: line was perfectly blank. Anyone could've written their own name in and cashed it. The thing is that I left a message a my dad's telling him to cancel the money order and he never called me back because he's an ass (I used to think my sister was harsh for not speaking to him in the five years she's lived in England, but now I'm changing my tune). Now, he's so retarded that he never sent me a birthday present, then lied about mailing me a money order and couldn't even be normal and send a regular check or give me cash, then broke down and gave me something two months after my birthday (which is pretty good for him, when I lived in the same freakin' city he took me out to dinner in Oct. for my birthday once). He can't do much right, but let me guess, he probably cancelled the money order immediately. He certainly hasn't offered me a replacement present. I'll deposit the damn thing tues. and end up getting charged a $25 bounced check fee. I can see it now. I get my stolen gift back and end up getting screwed even harder in the process. So anyway, that was Friday night and Saturday morning. Last night my friend Jane called up and had this vague story about some guy who was going to be in town in a couple weeks with his band for CMJ (call me stupid, but I've never known what that acronym stands for. I can assume that the M is for music) and she was putting him up, but that he was touring right now with Saint Etienne she was meeting him at the Holiday Inn in Chinatown and I could get on the guest list if I wanted. I said why not because I had nothing better to do and I liked the opening band, Ladybug Transistor, but I've never understood the appeal of Saint Etienne at all, like people who have the same taste in music as I do almost always like them and to me it just sounds like generic music that gay men would enjoy, but whatever. But I guess it was a big deal because they were playing two nights and both shows were sold out. Band stuff is just weird to me, like going back stage and getting invited to after-parties and free alcohol and drugs and all that. It's fun for novelty's sake, but there's not much to it. So we went and had a good enough time, but Jane's all crazy (in the best way possible, of course) like she always has a guy someplace. She just broke up with her boyfriend two days ago and already she had this cute British band boy all keen on her, which is nuts because a big reason her previous relationship didn't work was because her boyfriend was all obsessed with his band. I mean, wouldn't you know better? I've always steered clear of musicians (and artists and poets...keep those creative dreamers who plan on making it big some day away from me. At least left-brained, geeky, mama's boys (literally) know their place.

By the way, I've spent the past week putting together a new blabby restaurant page and small recipe section. I like yapping about crap that I eat so much that I think it needs its own home away from Project Me. This is what a person with too much free time does when they're not watching "Blind Date" or "Judge Mills Lane."

10/5/00
This morning I was woken up by the phone ringing. Was it a wonderful job offer? Was it James apologizing for being jerky the night before? No, it was my former boss's husband saying they might have work for me. It was all brief and mumbly and some cell number was left. Now just the other day I was tipped off to two stories about this company I used to work for. One in the New York Post and one in AtNewYork (there's no guarantee how long these links will work). They certainly didn't paint a pretty picture-why would I want to go work for them again? All day I was wondering if I should call back. I can't really work freelance or part-time anyway or I'll lose my unemployment and that's a mildly sweet deal. But I was still curious. Then around 5:00 I decided to finally take a shower and I was making a bagel and drying my hair at the same time and blew a fuse. I just wasn't thinking. The toaster, coffee maker and hair dryer all use the same outlet and I knew I wasn't supposed to use them at the same time because this happened almost a year ago, last Columbus Day weekend, which was a real pain since it happened on a Friday and my landlords were out of town til that Monday and they're the only ones with keys to the basement. I didn't have any electricity that entire weekend. Luckily, I was able to get a hold of my landlord before she'd gone home for the day and the problem was resolved. Everything came back on, but all my messages were deleted from my answering machine. Now I couldn't even call that guy back if I wanted to. Is this a blessing in disguise or a missed opportunity?

10/3/00
After all my complaining, it's gone and turned hot again. Now that I've pulled down my flannel pajamas, put away the fan and closed up all the windows, the weather's decided to shoot back into the 80's. To spite me, I'm sure. Wow, this is the first ever entry I've typed at home that wasn't done sitting on the edge of my mattress with the computer propped up on a Gatorade box. After two years, it's about time. And it was no easy task either. I broke down and bought a table at Ikea last month, but you had to put the four legs on it and of course one of the screw/bolt combos was bad. The threads were all wrong on one of the screws (or is that the bolt? Whatever) so I trekked to a local hardware store for a replacement and none were a match. I guessed that goddamn Ikea was probably doing something international like using metric sizing so this weekend I went to the 24 hour Home Depot that's vaguely near my house by car and they didn't have anything either. Luckily, I found a cool old fashioned ice cream parlor nearby and the butter pecan sundae with butterscotch topping soothed my nerves a bit. Anyway, I devised a make-shift way to put the table together and I planned on moving the computer last night when I realized that all the outlets in the front room are two-pronged. I was starting to wonder that maybe I wasn't meant to have a computer on a real table/desk apparatus. But a trip to K Mart this morning for an adapter solved that problem and now I'm sitting pretty.