Now where was I

The Crazy Ant speculates that perhaps I have created alter ego accounts to increase the number of comments on my posts. Which is not beyond the realm of possibility. Lord only knows the lengths of desperation some people go to in order to get comments on their blog. Ahem.

Sunday was my quiet day. I haven't come to terms with Sunday yet. Not for my 29.almost1/2 years of life. At first, I was all conflicted because Sunday meant having to serve as an altar boy at mass and quite frankly I didn't want to be an altar boy. (No, those who are thinking of scandals, it had nothing to do with priests and boys -- ugh, I'm being a bit sacrilegious but b/c I just didn't . . . care enough?). And then Sunday became a drag in high school and college because I always had so much homework to do which meant that Sunday evening loomed and grew larger by the moment and Monday always sucked because I went to sleep on Sunday night doing all the things that I was supposed to do on Friday night/ Sat and Sun (homework wise, of course). Now, I'm not sure what to make of Sundays. They're still a bit blah but they also bring in that dose of guilt that I should be going to church but I'm not and it's not because I'm being rebelious (what, you think I'm 20?) or because I'm lazy (well, perhaps but not really - I can be active when need be) but just because . . . I don't want to go to church right now.

Anyway, so there I was minding my own business when it hit me MY DVR FAILED ME. Yes, you read correctly. You see, if there is anything that my DVR should know about me - and it should know a lot given our intimate relationship - it is that I love and adore Law and Order Special Victims Unit above all things. So when I found out that it had not taped and recorded the episodes "Perverted" and "Turmoil" because I had inadvertently asked it to tape So You Think You Can Dance (I'm fine w/ watching the show on fast forward mostly BUT CERTAINLY NOT AT THE EXPENSE OF LAW AND ORDER SVU), you can imagine that my life came apart and the world as I knew it stood still and was on the brink of explosion.

So I decided to go online and find a free episode of it. Except apparently they regulate this stuff quite well. Which meant that none of the usual suspects had the episodes (hulu.com, nbc.om/blahblahlink to svu) and then when I went into unchartered territory, lo and behold, I downnlaoded this crazy virus that DEVASTATATED MY COMPUTER.

Anyway, so then I had to find a computer repair place over the weekend to fix my computer because Lord only knows that staring at the computer screen all day long (and sometimes all night long) just isn't enough and when I come home I want to be able to log into my computer and do stuff like email and chat (or, more importantly, come up with a good running mix on my itunes because yes, we are going to get in shape in 2010 and go BACK TO THE GYM).

Is it wrong of me that when the technician answered he didn't have an Indian accent but an East European one? I thought but oh how good can your company for computer repairs be if you don't have an Indian answering the phone. Which I recognize is mildly (severely?) biased. But anyway. When I took Principles of Applied Econometrics, it was me in the class along with 10 actual smart Indians (the "real Indians"???) and the rest were all Bulgarian, Romanian and from other Eastern European countries. OH, and China. How could I forget.

Anyway, I trusted them and several $$$ later my wallet is lighter and my computer is fixed. Which is why you have been blessed with this blog entry.

How has the week been, you wonder? Well, let's say that I saw the sunrise come up while at work again, and it was not fine. I stumbled home feeling unshaven and dirty at 715am while the city came to life. I briefly, briefly (a momentito if you will) contemplated going to the gym because I was high on life (meaning I wasn't dead to the world given the time) but abandoned that thought sensibly in favor of my bed. Which is what I am going to do now.

Of Places in New York

Ant wonders out loud (or in comments rather) whether I will get bored of doing NYC stuff. I don't think that is the case, although I can see myself getting tired of NYC prices. Which are a lot.

But anyway, on Saturday I went to Laut for dinner. It's a South East Asian restaurant in the Flatiron District (I like individual buildings here but generally don't like the neighbourhood; it's just too dead at night and I know everyone loves Union Square but I don't like Union Square. I suppose there is the farmer's market on the weekends but I don't travel down there on the weekends. And beyond that there's nothing really appealing about it. But anyway). So there I was having dinner. The restaurant space is nice: high ceilings, interesting tiles on the wall when you enter (I would have those tiles in the bathroom), nice blue porcelain plates upon which you eat your food (I would buy those plates), nice lanterns on the wall (I would buy those lanterns) but I'm not sure the overall space works.

However, the food. EXCELLENT. I wish I had better recollection of the things that I eat (unlike Karendipity and Eddotlin) but here's my best shot: I had fried fish cakes (DELICIOUS), hokkien mee (or some such) (also DELICIOUS), bak choy (spelling?) (also DELICIOUS) and chili crab (surprise, surprise, the gravy was DELICIOUS but the fried crab itself was not awesome). We also had cocktails (Thai rum punch - weak; lychee martini - good). In short, excellent.

Thereafter, we went to Pipa, which I would link to except my internet does not seem to be working. It's a restaurant attached to ABC home furnishings (which I would link to but really this blog entry is becoming way too much work). It's a great setting for a cocktail or too especially because it has CHANDELIERS galore dangling from the ceilings, which means you can laugh at the ostentatiousness of it all or you can contemplate a life in which you have a beautiful brownstone in the West Village (see, e.g., the last 100 or so posts of mine) and picture the lighting in each and every room . . .

Ruminations

I went out after work to meet a broker who is going to look at apartments for me to consider buying in the new year. Let me rephrase that. I will see apartments in the plural and I will buy only one in the very singular. And will then watch my $$$ be flushed down the toilet, leaving me with no savings . . .

Yes, Caveboy is a big boy. I should call myself Big Caveboy. Hmm, yes, or I can stop calling myslef caveboy. That is a nickname that stems from days when I pretended to study in dark rooms with just the bedside lamp or desk lamp for hours on end in law school. Ok perhaps the rumours are true. No wait I didn't say that. Oh, wait, yes I just did -- to my two readers named Antoine el Gazelle and Jeezmonster (the only two faithfuls who leave comments. Oh please readers if you're out there leave comments. That way Jeezmonster gets jealous b/c I get more comments than she does. OK fine, I'll do the noble thing and link to her blog. Go read her blog. It's hilarious.

Where was I? Ok apart from apartments (do you like that? APART from APARTments) not much really. Today was a blah day at work. Oh they are all blah days at work. Work is blah. It's like alienating and Marxist and shit.

Sigh, no it's fine. I just have an inability to be happy. At my work life that is. In my personal life I'm totally yippidy doo dah. Yes, that's right! Hmmm - not convinced?

Good intentions

Now that work has lessened I have these amazing intentions of going to bed early and waking up to go to the gym. I even migrate from my living room (which has great soft lighting and the gigantic TV) to my bedroom (which has crap overhead lighting reminiscent of a dorm room, will I ever get around to buying some floor lamps I have only been talking about doing that for the last 13 months since I moved on and now on this blog post).

however, the bedroom has my computer.

And the computer now plays TV thanks to websites like hulu.com.

Which means that I set my alarm for 6:30am and pat myself on the back because it is only 10:30pm and I sign off e-mail and think that I am truly responsible only to find that it is 1:24am and I have watched 2 episodes of Fringe, 2 episodes of 30 Rock and 1 episode of Modern Family and instead of effing closing the computer screen I am sharing my weakness with the world (of my few readers) in this blog post.

Just a Regular Friday Night

This whole live large thing is really wearing me down. If I keep up this sort of hectic social life, I'm going to have to quit my job. Which means that I will not be able to go down. Which means that I will have nothing to blog. Which is the worst case scenario people, let's think positive.

On Friday night, I went to Mercury Lounge to hear Lenka perform. Don't know who Lenka is? Neither did I before Ticketmaster.com e-mailed me its weekly sales listing and I thought oh me youtube these performers since I haven't heard of oh say 95% of them and then apply my litmus test of if the tickets are less than $25 and I don't despise at least 2 songs and affirmatively like at least 2 songs then I should purchase tickets as part of my I LIVE IN NEW YORK AND I DO NEW YORK THINGS (b/c otherwise why do I pay so much rent I might as well go and live in other places (like Sierra Leone??)). Anyway, so off I went.

The opening act sucked. Some singer named Colin Smith (I have a friend from Sierra Leone named Colin Smith and let me tell you he would have been a FAR better performer) who was crapola. Lame jokes and lame lyrics.

Lenka was cute. Sort of like Lily Allen but less witty lyrics (did I just confess that I find some of Lily Allen's songs funny?). Ah, this blog is such a confessional. Fine, go ahead and judge me. Anyway, she had happy, chirpy songs and sometimes you want to be happy and chirpy, so I went along for the ride.

All in all good times. I don't love Mercury Lounge and it's in the LES (the Lower! East! Side! so farrr) but it's all good.

Just a Regular Thursday Night

So I saw Jet perform tonight at the Nokia Theatre. Followed by some horrendously scary band called Papa Roach. Like, King Roach. Like, Father of the Roaches. Like, disgusting. Scary heavy metal/ hard rock/ LOUD LOUD LOUD band with lots of FLASHING FLASHING FLASHING LIGHTS and HIGH HIGH HIGH volume.

Scary.

But Jet was great. Especially when they sang "Are You Gonna Be My Girl." Made me want to dance and shake my bon bon. Which shook. (Oh come on, was that so disgusting?).

Just a Regular Wednesday Night

I can barely remember what I did on Wednesday night . . . because it seems so long ago. This whole "seize the day" "carpe diem" "reclaim life" business is exhausting. I think I preferred it when I just watched TV.

On Wednesday night, my sr associate and I (I call her "ogre" teasingly) went to The Monkey Bar at 54th and Madison to sample some whiskey sours, and then proceeded to a steak house where I ate a 20 oz. steak (yes, I'm disgusting), accompanied by potato fried in goose fat (SO DELICIOUS - If only one didn't have to eat the inside of the potato and could just eat the goose fat fried exterior over and over and over and over, but I digress), spinach with cream and bacon (SO GOOD) and creamy corn. DELICIOUS.

All downed with a bottle of red wine, of course.

We then made our way to Hotel Griffou where we watched beautiful people while we drank politely from our respective cocktails.

I should have called it a night but instead traveled uptown to see Meeter and Abhi's new apartment. So in my drunken state I had to endure major apartment envy. UGH.