Yet Another Drum Beater

Amy and I met while working together at Tia's Bar and Grill, a job I took in college to meet men as it was 'the' Boston after work place during the summer. Little did I know however, Tia's uniform consisted of flat sneakers, white shorts and a blue crewneck Tia's sweatshirt. All of this information I would have known if I had not called, but actually gone to the place to apply and put in the effort of wanting the job, any job, over Junior year summer. Basically take a Cheesecake Factory waiter, put them in even less flattering shorts... and then let them bake out in the heat. Needless to say,  I did meet men, many men, who after I showed them to their table said "wow that guy has really big boobs."  

Within a week I changed the uniform, wore wedged heeled sneakers and white skirts you had to squint to see and got a date with the guy from the Spanx story. I was ultimately pulled aside and told I "beat too much to my own drum".. I said "Thank You" and on my proud walk back to the hostess stand was told more flatly, "No,... that means your fired".  

Amy since has moved on and up. My good friend is now a new blogger, as the world clearly needed yet another self-entitled schmuck like me. 

Amy Diaz just posted an article compiling her Fortune Cookie Fortunes, and then explained them as they resonated with her at the time of her eating chinese food.  Clearly, she is a very deep girl. Like horoscopes,  or the Democratic party, cookie fortunes too are loose idea's that can resonate within almost anyone, and as such, I took her fortunes and applied them to me in hopes of gaining personal insight and sharing her blog, 'Just A Thought', with you. 

Read A Novel - and Learn More About Life:  Amy was in the process of reading the Twilight Saga when she got this one. Clearly she learned that men who glitter and won't sleep with you, are gay. 

As a Cure for Worry, Work is Better Than Whiskey: Or,..  As A Cure For Worry, White Wine is Better Than Work. 

You Are A Source Of Wisdom and Strength To Many People:  They don't call it Wasser Wisdom for nothing! So a source of Wisdom,.. ahem, this blog is living proof. A source of strength however? Mom, how many times do I have to tell you! I am not a lesbian! 

A Man Who Trims Himself to Suit Everybody Will Soon Whittle Himself Away: MEN... disregard this please... keep trimming. Lonely is the man sporting himself a lawn. [and no that line did not come out of a cookie].

You Are Never Selfish With Your Advice or Your Help: [see fortune above]

Romance Awaits You: This one is true! I have 42 messages waiting on JDate between the age brackets of 21-23 and 45-70. Some are lounging on futons. One is a midget. 

It's One Of Those Low-Key Days That You'd Rather Spend Just Chilling: This isn't a fortune so much as it is statement of the present, however, as Amy says, how often are you eating Chinese food when you're not chilling?  

Enthusiasm Can Change The Current Situation: At first reading I thought it said 'Euthanasia Can Change The Current Situation' which while accurate... you have to wonder where this bitch is eating her Chinese food.  Upon proper reading though, I feel like this one is given out only when the food is horrific. You get the check, the cookie, this message and can say "This meal was truly terrible...  but you know what can change that? My attitude."

You Were Born with a "Sixth Sense" and a Superb Insight: I have been to Boca, so I can say I've seen dead people. As for insight,  check out my friend's ramblings at her blog "Just A Thought".http://amyjdiaz.blogspot.com/

The 83rd Annual Academy Awards

Last night all eyes turned to what some call Hollywood's biggest night, and what I will call a reason to feel good about ordering in and opening wine with my mother, who has cable, and is equally as snarky as I. The 83rd Academy Awards finally gave ABC a purpose to exist as a network and paraded stars, their spouses, and wanna-be's of both down what Justin Timblerlake called "the Magenta carpet". Thanks JT! After hearing years of your overproduced 'music', its nice to see you now have a knack for truth telling & accuracy.  Speaking of which, lets dig in. 

There were some decisions made last night that I really do have to call into question: 

1. Who keeps letting Gwyneth Paltrow sing? 

2. Why was "The Kids Are Alright" an oscar nominated movie? While I love Mark Ruffalo, I don't see how a movie that would have been chocked up to a chick flick had the protagonists been hetero, is now worthy of an Academy Award. It pains me to say this after falling out of love with Anne Hathaway last night, but whoever wrote for her put it best, "it was a great year for lesbians". 

3. Whose idea was it to have Kirk Douglas, stroke victim on cane, present an award? Is he old? Is he autistic? Needless to say, it was uncomfortable. If he could, at the end of the show I think Kirk would say what Melissa Leo did upon her Best Supporting Actress acceptance, "everyone else makes this look so fucking easy".  I love Kirk Douglas, but the only thing more awkward I've ever seen at an awards show was that Golden Globes where they kept panning to Temple Grandin and that one time Halle Berry went on a crusade for colored women as they did close ups on her white-bread mom. In any case, both Kirk and Anne Hathaway should have recognized their abilities and said "Thanks for the honor, but no".  

And for my biggest gripe of all;  Anne Hathaway and James Franco? Was Charlie Sheen busy! For anyone who says anything redeeming about the pair [who will look back at this and fire their managers]; were you stoned? Because I'd put money down that James Franco was. I know a pole smoker pot smoker when I smell one, he was higher then the Academy was when they decided to validate The Social Network as a movie. I must thank James for two things though, last night I got a contact high through my television, and until James Franco I didn't know that you could introduce Oscars presenters condescendingly, so thanks for that! Maybe in his next movie they'll have him saw off his tongue.  As for Anne, while she was in way above her head, at least she came sober - nice girl, hardly entertaining - the pair produced a snoozefest. Anyone who needs proof that last nights oscar hosts were anything more than lackluster can look to the quality boost during Billy Crystal and Bob Hopes mere 5 minutes. I never thought I'd say this, but last night I missed a Baldwin brother.

Melissa Leo's award was well deserved. While the Academy may never grant her airtime again, I am truly happy when good craftmanship wins. Along those lines, cheers to Colin Firth, Christian Bale, The Kings Speech and the audio/visual/editing teams of Inception, Alice in Wonderland's costume designer and Natalie Portman. It was a great night for so many stars, but lets be honest, I don't really care so much about their achievements as I do their outfits. There were some stunning gowns. That new girl Jennifer something from Winters Bone [what I'm lovingly calling Precious for white people] looked gorgeous. Hilary Swank, Halle Berry, Sandra Bullock, Mila Kunis and my ♥ Celine brought it! Mellissa Leo looked great - I have to say, there were only a few dress disasters, Scarlett Johanson much? At this point she should be used to flops, but really?  That hair is what happens when your career falls to sexual favors for red carpet access.  

All in all, good night. Congrats to the winners. I still think Jeffrey Rush got cheated. I've come to terms that I will never win an Oscar unless I inherit a role with a speech impediment or same-sex orientation, or they make a movie based on Twitter.

Hipsters

There are very few places in life where you can go, look around to people watch and in return feel a sense of 'I'm more than OK'. These place include but are not limited toDisneyland, Targets 'non-designer' section,  Planned Parenthoods, and new to the list: The Chelsea Room, as UrbanDaddy.com describes is "a new nightclub inside the bowels of the old rock-and-roll funhouse that is the Hotel Chelsea, the place where Jimi Hendrix used to howl off the fire escape at three in the morning." While I can agree that the Chelsea Room was in the bowels of something, whether Jimi was screaming because he saw The Chelsea Room's crowd or not, they are the reason that I went home. 

Let me preface this by saying that The Hotel Chelsea, and subsequently The Chelsea Room, is conveniently next to Gotham Comedy Club. After finishing an audition set at Gotham to secure a gig as the warm up for a TV show; I needed to celebrate, commiserate, and unwind. As only one of the five friends who assured me they were coming actually showed up, I was at the mercy of my friend Isabel,  who is consistently on the prowl. This being said my first choice of the venue to the left of Gotham, Jakes Saloon, was out. Jakes is known for their chicken wings and therefore men who believe its appropriate to publicly eat them,... I think enough has been said. This leaves only the choice to Gotham's right;  the new nightclub in the bowels of the old rock-and-roll house that is the Hotel Chelsea.

Upon arriving at The Chelsea Rooms red-velvet ropes, I had a feeling this would be an absolute disaster-piece. Call it woman's intuition or the large majority of plaid shirts smoking cigarettes outside it's heavily guarded door; in places where entering requires a double-shampoo shower once home, I usually don't 'fit in'. There was no line to enter so my ego wasn't effected until we were ID'ed and asked who we were there for. Apparently the answer of 'I'm here for my friend Isabel", and her response of "I'm here for myself" was not going to cut it. After being briefed about some 'private party for fashion week', luckily there was a lovely man behind us who spoke up, and spoke for us; "I'm with Elenora's list, and there are three of us", signaling to himself, Isabel and I.  Upon entering however, the only list that belonged there was Schindlers. Everyone in the room looked either hungry, miserable or both. Isabel optimistically described the crowd as Hipsters and Models,... I will  honestly  describe the crowd as Hipsters andHipsters.  There were men the size of boys, women the shape of boys and all of whomfelt they lost out when they didn't score the cover of Prozac Nation, mainly because that gig would have been perfect for all of them.

In the bathroom, after befriending attendant Solomon, Solomon sneezed. My natural instinct said 'Bless You', to which my sink-neighbor to my left, scoffed at me while giving the evil eye and declared "you know, that is a really rude thing to say. I don't dictate you're beliefs - don't throw yours onto mine". Sir, first off, you didn't sneeze. I wasn't, nor would I, bless you; I was blessing Solomon, my new Nigerian friend. You on the other hand are wearing a wool scarf indoors,... if you think I'm going to even going to take a gander at the things you most likely believe in, I've already seen Matt Lauer and Tom Cruise go at it. Furthermore, the fact that you can stand next to another human who just sneezed and say nothing, puts you in a list of people I wouldn't spit on if they were on fire. At this point, he informs me that he is very big in the fashion world, to which I inform him "that's great, because you're probably not big anywhere else" while gesturing to his groin, at which point, it was time for me to go home.

Wasser: 1, Hipsters: 0. I may wear skinny jeans, but at least my head isn't so much larger than my waist that I think thin mustaches are cool, bathroom attendants aren't people or that an increased credit line at Urban Outfitters makes me "Big in the fashion world". Goodbye, good riddance, and goodnight. Jimi, you are now not the only one howling over the Chelsea Hotel.