happy belated burffday for lisa, turned into happpppy buurrrfffdaaaay with a cupcake for kimbo! tkz dz.
ps: DEGUSTATION - i'd go back. squab confit awesome. wine - not too shabby.
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239 E. 5th St., New York, NY 10003
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212-979-1012 Send to Phone
i've been addicted to the massage lately....
kai xin jiu hao.
the question of the night "how many lambdas are you going to have at your wedding?"
Nicole Hurley: Life is making mistakes.
Milo Boyd: And death is wishing you had made more.
the conversations of "i need a new job/i hate my job/i need to make more money/i don't want to work" always end up with a semi joke suggestion like "u should just be a pimp. get will back and you can pimp him out. have u seen the show hung?"
"will would be a terrible whore. he'd want service and he's lazy. i need hoan. u'd be terrible. u wouldn't put out. hoan is my best bet. ghey's would pay a killing for him" - dk
i hate it when eating out becomes a fiasco. where the actual event of eating involves a month long reservation, undeserved anticipation ergo creating a type of contrived dinner ambiance that forces one to order and eat and act up to it's hype. as much as the over hyped restaurants flood nyc, it's density and excess of awesome restaurants also allows that impromptu awesome meal that u can have by walking from the happy hour joint to the nearest yelped restaurant, have an awesome meal, call up last minute friends and up your dinner crowd by lego-ing tables, add food as you go and just let the night ride from one place to the next, all without excess expectation. where the basics of food and drink are there and the focus can remain in the company and social banter. and so that's how st marks, mercat, pravada, butterfly, biny happened last friday. that's also how dbgb/cooper hotel/boka/massage happened last thursday as well. and then there was 3fl/dons bogum/boka/massage. and taisho/boka/japanese hostess. and...lucky strike/brinkley's/chomo's couch. and gansevoort/standard/some place next door/and and. and.
ps: mercat food is good.
i think im that person where when it rains it pours. when things don't go right for me, it's always a long string of back to back to back events where u don't have enough time to recover from one miscue and another unfortunate event happens...and then maybe a mistake and then and then...so it'll be a month of stress. 2 months of funk. i think i went through the same thing this same time the past 2 years running. which always has me wondering, is it my karma? have i done something that horrible for these events to line up one after another? i didn't need to have stress then lose my sunglasses too did i? and then step in a puddle? and then step in dog sh*t? and then lose my gym lock? was that really necessary??
so part of this self inflection and with 30 approaching there's been conscious efforts to increase maturity and more importantly legitimacy. I recently received a forwarded email from a peer - "big brothers that can speak chinese needed for immigrant families in brooklyn". i skimmed thru the EXTENSIVE criteria of screening process and obligation and without thinking 2x i quickly pushed forward my interest to sign up.
long online application. orientation. an hour long interview asking everything. describe your parents. family. occupation. siblings. your relationship with your family. how do you express anger. how do you express love? when was first sexual experience. what is your sexual orientation. what does physical abuse mean to you. emotional abuse? alcohol? drugs? school? activities? what would you do if your lil bro was needy and used you to buy him stuff? there were so many scenarios of questions that required a stint of self reflection.
in closing i said "i assume that i come from a privileged and stable background where i can naturally and intrinsically enrich a distressed childs life and i see that there is a huge return for myself that i look forward to learning about myself."
im attached to this baby cuz the parents are cool. and after spending more time with baby and watching her grow the past 2 months, i'm baby curious. i find myself staring not just at other babies on the street but their strollers, carriers, type of accessories etc. im gonna use jillian to pick up chicks soon =)
this is what you get if you ask hoan for advice
"get the funk...out of my face..get. the. funk. out of my face"
then when i told him things are better he responds...
"nice. now be like frank and go express yourself through dance"
that's the kind of support group that i have. a group of jokesters and alcoholics all in the same helping me get through all this ridiculous amt of stress that been seriously draining the happy go lucky out of me. it was a severe 3 weeks of internal turmoil that just never seemed to end. and the fact that it's over and the air is cleared...has me so relieved and soo tired of drinking. that i might pass on celebratory drinking. EHH>..who am i kidding.
its been quite the learning experience. the first time i've gone through a situation like this. and to the degree it extended was surreal. well. it's somewhat over now. let me focus on the healthy stress. the work. market is tough.
the concept and the idea of this restaurant was really good. however, it was just too damn salty. the broth was overly salty and i can't look past such a basic seasoning ingredient to be overdone to be able to give it a good review. i can't understand how simon raves about this place esp since he's traveled and has been to regions of the world where they make this kind of food.
but the story of the night revolves less around the food but more around the styles of flirtation with the japanese waitresses...
"Oh...you're from fukoaka? i've been there! there's this huge building of all okonomiyaki stalls right? its awesome! and i've been to the mountains....it's beautiful there. bright red mountains and beautiful cherry blossoms." - after simon used this line on the waitress. he continued to convince us that u use any line like that to a japanese girl she'll be eating out of your plate....
only for us to find out later that he'd never been to that 25 stall mall of okonomiyaki. HAHAHA. WHAT A POSER!. he's actually only eaten at a place across the street from that okonomiyaki mall.
pork feet
okonomiyaki
thursday morning i woke up hungry. i wanted to eat something good. i msged everyone and the first ppl to respond recommended travertine. the menu looked good and the weather was nice. i got off work, pumped some iron and headed towards my first ketel and soda. then dinner was 2 bottles of wine. the crowd of 3 for reservations wasn't who i had originally thought it would be, a new dynamic, a "maybe odd" dynamic that when i told chomo, he said. "just get drunk"
well, being that i always got a lot to say, they were friendly and "i am apparently easy to talk to", we had a great time. kudos to your love for your dreamy boyfriend and next kudos to you for your new man who can sing. and uhh...yes. cheers. great food always makes for happy company. and happy company always wants more drinks. more drinks always leads to great convo.
"I LOOVE BONE MARROW...we have to order it! i call it liquid gold. i want to bottle it up and sell it."
"u know what bone marrow reminds me of? smells like?"
"what"
"cum".
appalled by her initial claim to defame my glorified favorite i kept my mouth shut and well...gave kudos cuz obviously that one line just made our friendship that much closer. until the food came and the first slice of the knife into the bone marrow unleashed the raw aroma of the bone.
"OH GOD. U JUST RUINED MY FAVORITE DISH. THE SMELL. YOU'RE RIGHT. ACK!"
everyone shared some stories. relationships always being at the center of talk. cuz boys and girls, 不能做普通朋友。。。right? the only way things work are if both people are givers. it's gotta be a bigger giver with a lesser giver. takers don't fit into the equation. brilliant. anyways, dinner got loud. and it was all fun. and we wanted more. more drinks. more karaoke. more biny. more johnny walker. i dont really have to remember it all, but im sure that i put on a show. u'll find those rare moments where i actually want to sing. and not just sing, jump around in the middle of the room and sing. cuz it's not singing without a show. its fun.
**
i had originally planned to take the following day off but instead i went in a little late and stayed for half a day just to clear up some emails, pick up my stuff and go. apparently a headache situation caused a few issues to arise from some ops tattling. and now i got issues to deal with. issues that shouldn't be issues. loyalty issues that should be innate. and a certain plan of structure in my everyday routine that's gonna change for none other than other people throwing me under the bus. its not effective for work, but its face time politics that really not necessary in this structure. oh god. ruined the weekend.
4. I'm still not crazy about any report that says "done" unless it's definitely, 100 percent done.
Quick tangent: I like the engagement-ring corollary for all sports reporting. If a friend calls me and says "I'm engaged," I always want to know if they actually got the ring. Give her the ring, you're engaged. If not, "Let's get married" may have been something thrown out there during a drunken dinner, right after sex, during a makeup session after an argument … who the hell knows? I want to see that ring. Once you get the ring, there's no going back. You're locked in. You can get out, but it's almost impossible, and even worse, you might have a one-carat diamond whipped at you at 65 miles an hour.
Had Smith said, "I learned tonight that Miami is the prohibitive favorite to get all three; someone would have to go back on their word for this not to happen," then it played out the way it had, he would have been the Nostradamu-SAS of this thing. But he tried to get engaged without the ring. Still, he gets a partial credit for sniffing it out. Nobody else had the Miami scenario. And if Smith DID have accurate intelligence and it WAS done, then that means the guys panicked and concocted every event these past eight days -- every waffle, every leak, every extra meeting -- just to throw us off the scent.
13. I think it's a cop-out. Any super-competitive person would rather beat Dwyane Wade than play with him. Don't you want to find the Ali to your Frazier and have that rival pull the greatness out of you? That's why I'm holding out hope that LeBron signs with New York or Chicago (or stays in Cleveland), because he'd be saying, "Fine. Kobe, Dwight and Melo all have their teams. Wade and Bosh have their team. The Celtics are still there. Durant's team is coming. I'm gonna go out and build MY team, and I'm kicking all their asses." That's what Jordan would have done. Hell, that's what Kobe would have done.
In May, after the Cavs were ousted in the conference semifinals, I wrote that LeBron was facing one of the greatest sports decisions ever: "winning (Chicago), loyalty (Cleveland) or a chance at immortality (New York)."
I never thought he would pick "HELP!"
So sayeth the colicky Colicchio himself, on his Bravo blog:
“I’m going to try my best not to sound testy. As you’ve also just watched the episode though, I’m sure you won’t fault me if I do…. Watching the episode, I was amazed to hear mutterings of ‘I’m not a pastry chef’ and ‘I’m not a grill chef.’… I was at my family’s swim club one summer day when I was approximately 10 years old, and after a day of swimming I found myself good and hungry. My father had brought along several club steaks, and had heated the grill but not yet cooked the steaks. I couldn’t wait. I popped one on the grill and, when it seemed adequately cooked, I popped it back off and ate a bite…. I came out of my reverie to face an angry family: I’d singlehandedly cooked and eaten all the steaks…. I guess I discovered grilling…. I was 10, and it never occurred to me to shy away from the task because ‘I wasn’t a grill chef.’”
the thought of lukewarm and room temperature makes me a little queezy. i prefer the luxuries of hot & cold. i like the option of having all 3 actually. and options are what make life better. or make me happier. or the option of trying things until i find what makes me happy. and i feel that money brings more options. and if more options will bring happiness, then more money will bring happiness. thats what i believe without getting fundamental or theoretical. im cool with the way my life is now. i just want to upgrade it. increase it. give it more options. and not argue about the fundamentals of idealistic happiness. or the pursuit of it.
that was the debate last night.
the long island bbq's started 2003 july 4th weekend. the lop was pale faced about relationship issues and spent the weekend to get away in the pool floating around in my dads swim trunks and swigging seagrams and seven up. we drank. then we ate. then floated in the pool. then drank. and then ate. that's how it went. and that's how it was this weekend.
this past weekend, we started slow. frank didn't want to drink and chomo doesn't drink unless it's ketel one. so we started around 3pm. we had some beer. we had the burgers. we tried to play "the game" (frisbee and treading water in the pool). but we didn't have flotation devices (aka noodles) and didn't have hard liquor. so i made a run to the market. came back with noodles, beach ball, potato salad and Glenlivet and ketel one.
we swigged the whiskey. we drank the ketel.
it was glorious.
and he shouldn't get married.
this is a diary. and i realize now im missing one of the most important events of the year that i actually attended....the lops bday! i flew back from texas just to make his bday party, fashionably late w 2 chicks in tow of course. by the time i made my rounds saying hi to everyone and making small talk, i intermittently caught the lop swiggin whiskey left and right. before i knew it, it was i who had to drag his ass upstairs. and then it was i who had to clean up the roof. and it was also i who fed him salami while he was sleeping. hilarious.
this morning i walked down the LIRR Wyandanch platform towards the back of the train, cuz that's closer to entrance to the 2/3 line @ penn station, and when i got to the waiting awning i passed by 2 animal control trucks, a cop car and a huge stray dog panting with smiley fangs chilling inside the booth. it was obvious what was going to happen, but when they cornered him, he ran out and leaped on to the tracks. twisting his ankle and writhing in pain between rails.
i cringed.
2 fat cops stood around saying OH NO and did nothing for a good 5 minutes until they realized a train was headed this way. balding white cop strolled down the platform waving his flashlight @ the oncoming train with zero urgency. as the oncoming train did little to slow down, the cop decided to wave his flashlight in broad daylight more furiously. the train started to slow down at the last minute but...OOO.
i was so afraid the dog got squished but he didn't. apparently he got up and started limping down the tracks. black fat cop walked after him, continually trailing in distance as his fat ass made no effort to keep up with the dogs limping pace. the 2 dog catchers seemed to have no idea what they were doing regardless of waving around those lasso sticks.
limping dog limped down the tracks. and somehow made it back to the station and back onto the platform. the cops and dog catchers followed lackadaisically and eventually they lost the dog. they got in their cars and left. and the train was 12 minutes late.
it's confirmed. i'm a dog person.
there was reason to celebrate. i would have drank either way to drown a .5M loss or now celebrate that it was no longer my loss. either way. i had 3 drinks before dinner and mr. chow's...sucks! the chicks weren't even that hot. but the ketel and soda's tasted good. and then somehow i ended up @ the bar again. and then @ biergarten. and then a limo? and then vivi. wow. they remembered me. wow. i had a huuuge headache.
did you know that sagitarius' are competitive.
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