I apologize for the lag time between blogs. I have been receiving angry death threat facebook comments from people (ahem Kathleen) demanding new ones. sigh….I guess my public truly depends on me for their every happiness. I mean….do you blame them?
Oh so much has happened in the last month. I was a featured celebrity on the hit show, The View. Ok fine, maybe a little less “featured celebrity” and a little more “random girl from Illinois introducing the next segment for 4 seconds”, but still….I am VERY famous.
Me hangin with my new bestie, Sherri Shepard.
Learning my "lines" God, I am famous.
My friends from Chicago came into town for a week and we had a grand-ol time. They scored an invitation to a fancy gallery opening in Soho. This sounded so cool and I felt tres chick… until I showed up and the entire Ford model agency clientele were also in attendance. Note to self: Ford models are not the best self esteem boosters. 6 ft 90 lb Giselle’s tend to make 5′2 girl’s feel like short squat albino circus midgets.
The other night, my hilarious friend Ryan was recounting his brief relationship with my bestie (and, according to New York State Law, my domestic partner…as we lived together for 8 years), Jonelle. They had been dating for 3 weeks or so when this conversation took place;
Ryan (turns to Jonelle and gazes into her eyes): I love you.
Jonelle: I love you too!
Ryan (pauses): Did you really mean that?
Jonelle: No. Did you?
Ryan: Nope.
sigh…..and they say romance is dead.
The other night Ryan was telling this story to a bunch of people at a party and I asked, “Wait….how long did you guys go out again?”. He replied, “Kim….you can’t put a time frame on a miracle”. So true, Ryan….so true.
So, the Tony Awards were on last night. They tend to depress me…mostly because I know about 75% of the people performing and I am usually watching while sitting in my room applying self tanner, knitting, and eating french fries. This year I decided to boycott all Tony viewing parties and watch Six Feet Under and a highly anticipated holocaust documentary on the History Channel instead. (Nothing like a show about a funeral parlor and a 3 hour long documentary on the slaughter of 6 million people to lift me out of a funk.) Things were going well until both restaurants below me decided to host official Tony cast after-parties in the courtyards out back. Let’s just say the night ended with me sitting in flannel pajamas and self tanner (that by the way developed into an adorable cheetah print by morning) eating twix and crying while watching the parties out my window. It. Was. Awesome. Thank God the universe threw me a bone with the douche-tastic lead singer of Poison getting hit by a set piece and falling on his Mullet-wearing-permed-hair-tapered-acid-wash-jeans ass. He was tearin’ it up on stage with his “I am a sex GOD” routine when the scrim (part of the set’s drop) fell on his head. I love how he survives 30 years of pyrotechnics, toxic amounts of aerosol hairspray, and 5000 smashed guitar’s without so much as a bruise, yet he sings in a twinkie bottom musical theater awards show and falls on his ass. For all of you who missed this please watch immediately…
On the upside, due to the recent recession, I decided to sell all of my possessions on Ebay. I was an ebay virgin, so I called my brother (Omnipotent in the world of Ebay), who advised me to start the bidding on all items at 99 cents because “people tend to get annoyed when items are posted too high.” He assured me that it was inevitable people would bid on the items and the price would go up. So, I put all my designer BCBG, Nicole Miller, and Betsy Johnson $350-$500 dresses up at .99 cents. The dresses sold!….for 99 cents. Thanks, Kevin.
The best part? Some of my “customers” were not satisfied with the fit or “quality” and demanded to be refunded quote ” IN FULL”. Seriously.
I wrote back, “I am SO sorry for your unhappiness with the item you purchased. I will refund you IMMEDIATELY so that the large sum of money (that came from your savings, no doubt) will be back into your account as soon as humanly possible. I can only assume that you have been living on Top Ramen and Wonder Bread after paying me this large quantity, so please… have no fear. You will get your fortune back IMMEDIATELY.”
I have said this before, and I’ll say it again…..I truly believe that after living in New York City among sassy homeless people, crazy freaks, de-sensitized masses, and the strange occurrences that happen on a daily basis….anywhere else just seems…well…boring, I guess. I was in Central Park yesterday sitting on the Great Lawn with friends when a random dude walked up and asked if we would like some cocktails. After we said yes, he busts out his 30 bottles of alcohol, duffel bag of mixers, stainless steel shaker /strainer, and begins making mojitos, long island iced tea’s (for the gay’s in our group), and cosmopolitan’s. Gotta love a city that offers custom ordered mixed drinks delivered to you on the lawn in a park at 3 in the afternoon. Why didn’t I think to do this?? As I was walking home sans Ipod, I had no choice but to notice my surroundings and the people walking amongst me. It was quite amusing, I must say.
I saw this she-man chillin in a bright spandex unitard:
This wolf-dog that looked EXACTLY like Falkor from the movie “Never Ending Story”. I seriously wanted to yell, “ATREEEEEEEYU!” while petting the giant dog-like creature, but figured the owner might think it was odd…..so I decided to abort that plan.
A very commendable guy trying to sell candy for $1 by saying, “I really want the new Air Nike’s ….wanna help me out and buy some M&M’s?” Gotta respect an honest dude like that. Most people selling candy say something along the lines of, “I am homeless with 73 children who haven’t eaten since the late 90’s and I lost my job, my husband/wife died, and I have AIDS, Cancer, and Chlamydia” I gave him a dollar for his honesty.
An old white woman in a wheelchair wearing a strange hand-made turban sitting near the entrance of the park yelling obscenities at passerby’s (wish I had taken a picture of this)
Then, in the A/C/E subway station a little bit later, an average well-kept middle age man just waiting for the train like everyone else started singing to himself quietly and eventually crescendoed into a full out performance of “This Nearly Was Mine” from South Pacific. The people waiting in the station applauded after he was finished and he bowed politely He was not asking for money or anything, he just felt like singin’ a song.
So, I got off the train and was almost home when another average-looking well-dressed man holding a beer (appropriately in a brown paper bag) walked straight up to me. I was frantically trying to remember if/where I had met this man who was walking up to me as if we were old college frat buddies (I have the memory of a mentally challenged kindergartner, so forgetting a face definitely isn’t outta the realm of possibility). He marches right up to me breaking all rules about personal space and burps the phrase, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING” into my face. I jumped back in complete horror/shock after inhaling his vile breath which smelled like a combination of beer, vomit, 4 day-old urine, and puppy diarrhea, and he threw his head back, laughed, and walked away. What about me screams, “Please….burp in my mouth!!!!!” ?
This all happened on the walk from 81st street to my apartment on 45th street. Where else would you see this fine smorgasbord of strangeness on a solitary walk home? God I love this city.
I will leave you with this confusing conversation that a friend of mine (who is mildly obsessed with “as seen on TV” products) had with her friend;
My friend’s friend (Let’s call her Kate): Oh my gosh I got the Magic Bullet! I know you love this stuff so I wanted to call and tell you I got one!
My friend: Oh my gosh!!!! Isn’t it GREAT???? I love mine!
Kate: Yes! I am going to go home and use it tonight to make Guacamole!
My friend: (confused) wait…yours makes guacamole too?
Kate: Yes! It does EVERYTHING.
Friend: Wow. (sadly) Mine doesn’t make guacamole.
Kate: Really? That’s weird.
Friend: (looks at her vibrator and sees it’s called “The Magic Wand”) OHHHHHH the Magic BULLET. Ya, it’s great too.
My month in Review:
Jonelle.....Ryan's one true love.
My domestic partner and I at the rooftop party which was ended abruptly when the NYPD started arresting people for lewd behavior, throwing glass beer bottles at cars and people below, and pissing off the roof. People are so classy.
Saturday Brunch at Five Points with ma bitches
In Chicago at Katie's rehearsal dinner. We've all been friends for about 17 years. Shit, I'm old.
Katie and her new husband.
Ryan's equally funny sister Nicole and I in the burbs of Chicago.
