Another weekend wrap-up:

Friday night: We lost our soccer game (ARGH!) and then went to a midnight showing of STICK IT-- which was even more disappointing than losing our game...I realize there was no way it was gonna live up to the greatness of Bring It On, but I still expected better...This was almost on par to Supercross: The Movie (yes, I saw it...it was a free screening...).

Saturday: Andy finally got his motorcycle. Yes, it's pretty. No, I will not be getting on it any time soon.













Yeah, I think that lady in the boots is a hooker. And she lives on my block. I live in a really nice neighborhood...

Then we went out for dinner and had a party in honor of Julia's Birthday.







Sean paid Meredith 10 bucks to eat Jello that fell on the floor. My friends are classy...







Today I woke up to go to improv practice and felt like crap (seeing as though I went to bed at 5 AM) so I stayed home and didn't get out of bed till some time around 3. I couldn't help it-- the sun was shining in through my window and I was so cozy sleeping in the sunbeams...I felt like a cat. Eventually I got my butt in gear and went to the Cherry Blossom festival at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. I'm glad I did because the flowers were beautiful. They also had a lovely grove of lilacs, which reminded me of when I was a kid and my sister and I had this group that we called "LK5" which stood for "Lilac Kingdom Five"-- the group of us neighborhood girls who had a "secret" fort in a grove of lilacs that we called the Lilac Kingdom...yeah, we were geeks...Anyway, as you can tell by the pictures, the flowers made Christie very happy.

Saturday night, Steph and I trekked through the rain to Bowery to go see the Scissor Sisters "secret" (or not-so-much) show. We got upstairs to find (much to my general glee) Leslie and the Lys opening up. Now, in case you don't know, my friend Tom had Leslie play for his Birthday party at Lillie's in Red Hook and it was an experience to say the least. After engaging in an ultimate late 80s/early 90s dance-off with a friend's friend, Leslie invited the two of us to become her new backup dancers. She got our email addresses and I anxiously awaited the next time she would come to town so I could get my cheesy boogie on...and she never emailed. Much to my chagrin, she still had the same backup girls at Bowery. Nothing personal, ladies, but I really think I could have done a kick ass job up there.







After Leslie, a Dj kept the crowd (mostly gay men) pumped by playing lots of cheesy dance music. Steph and I were pleasantly drunk and having a grand ole time shaking our groove thangs, when, all of a sudden, I notice people start staring up at the balcony right above my head. I look up and see none other than Cher. This has suddenly become a gay man's (and, let's be honest, my) idea of heaven. Cher. Fucking Cher. After living in NYC for going-on 8 years, I've seen plenty of celebrities. Most of the time I don't really care, but Cher, Cher is an icon. We couldn't stop staring. Cher sang along to Prince. Cher likes Prince. Eventually I was getting a crick in my neck and the show was starting so I stopped paying attention. I got way caught up in the disco fever and danced my ass of to the Scissor Sisters. They are some fine entertainers.

After the show I looked up to find Cher still sitting there. "Gee," I thought, "I've got a digital camera. I'm going to try and get a picture of Cher. That would be really awesome." I was at a horrible angle for pictures and she wasn't even looking in my direction, so I just turned on my flash, zoomed in and pointed the camera in her general direction, hoping for something semi-mediocre. I left Bowery without really looking at what I had captured.

When I got home, I started to upload the pictures on my laptop.

This was the first picture of Cher:



"Whoa," I thought..."I totally got a shot of her ass. My bad."

And then THIS one came up:



HOLY SHIT. I had inadvertently taken a picture of Cher's cooch. Yes, Kiddies, look closely- it's definitely there. Her lady bits. Her va-jay-jay. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I did a little of both. Dear God. Cher, please, for the love of God, don't wear a skirt that short with no undies and fishnets if you are going to be standing on the balcony of a public music venue...so wrong.

And IF, after that, you still want to see pics of the Scissor Sisters...

Happy Hasselhoff Friday!!! And what a Friday it is...

Today, I bring you sage advice on how to win Hoff's love from yet another David Hasselhoff site...

I just got this (fabulous) comment from Whitney:

Dear Sam,
This doesn't have anything to do with your posts, but somehow you worked your way into my dream the other night, which brought back the craziest memory of you that I have.....
Do you remember going to the homeless shelter in Pontiac and serving food with church (umm, ok I NEVER went back to church after getting confirmed, does that mean I am going to Hell?)
Ok, so you have the memory of going to the homeless shelter, right? Do you remember sneaking into the bathrooms there to use the pay phone (what a weird place to use the phone) and then we called 1-800-TAMPONS and told them that the string broke off the tampon and it was stuck? And they must of known it was a prank because they told us that there was no way the string could break... or maybe they just could hear us laughing.
What a weird thing to do at a church function. That answers my question, yes I am going to Hell, but it's not because I didn't go back to church, it was the bad things I did at church that are sending me there.
Love,
Your long-lost Wednesday Night Confirmation Buddy

Believe it or not, there are a few reasons why this is funny. Yes, it’s hilarious that I prank called 1-800-TAMPONS from a homeless shelter on a church trip, but the real kicker is that I DID THIS ALL THE TIME. I actually don’t even remember this particular incident (although I do remember going to the homeless shelter), but I DO remember that my go-to prank call was always calling 1-800-TAMPONS. The call usually went something like this:

Operator: Hello, Tampax help line, how may I help you?
Me: Hi. Um, I need some help cause I was trying to pull out my tampon and the string fell out and now the tampon is stuck in there!
Operator: Miss, I’m sorry, but that’s impossible. We test the weave on our tampons with great care and there is no way that could ever happen.
Me:(Burst out laughing and hang up the phone…think I am the most hilarious and brilliant person ever)

I must have made this call hundreds of times and, honestly, I can’t remember when, how, or why I started doing it. But, every time I made a new friend I always had the same mischievous suggestion, “Hey, let’s call 1-800-TAMPONS!” I think I had an obsession with tampons because I was a late bloomer. I didn’t know that it wasn’t possible for the string to come out, because I had never actually USED a tampon…except to make a trap…My sister and I used to be friends with these two sisters who lived in our neighborhood and would often have sleepovers at their house. Without fail, the older sisters would gang up on the younger sisters and soon a full out war would begin… I would often devise traps with my cohort Emily in attempt to inflict pain on our evil sisters. Usually these would involve buckets of water placed on tops of doors, trip wires, or anything else you may have seen in a Home Alone movie. However, one day I had a stroke of brilliance. “What if,” I thought, “I could put something really slippery right inside the doorway and lure them to come running in here? They would certainly fall on their butts and maybe even break a tailbone! Hurray!” I went through the closets and found the perfect ingredients…a box of tampons and a garbage bag. I unloaded those wonderful cylindrical tampons onto the floor and placed the trash bag on top of them, making the perfect situation for a slip. I baited Heather and Sarah in with some sort of brilliant taunt like, “Hey! Come and get me! I’m in here!” and soon they were plowing in the doorway—at which they easily stepped on and smashed all of the tampons under that garbage bag. Turns out I misjudged how much weight a plastic applicator can actually withstand. My plan was foiled. Foiled again.

But, I digress. There was, in fact, a time (sixth grade to be exact) when me and my friend Jessica were obsessed with calling 1-800 numbers. At lunchtime we would head over to the Abbott Middle School pay phone and spend the entire lunch period calling different 1-800 numbers that we had either seen somewhere or made up and wanted to see if they really existed (i.e. 1-800-SEXTOYS). Okay, maybe 6th Graders shouldn’t have been calling dirty phone numbers, but it’s not like we could ever get to anything juicy…you needed a credit card to get to that point. The question is: Why did we never get in trouble for sitting at the pay phone for entire lunch periods? I guess the other question would be: Why was this so much fun? The thing is, people didn’t have cell phones back then. Using a phone was a novelty, it wasn’t something that we had access to 24/7. At home we would get in trouble for being on the phone all the time, but here we had found a way to have access to a phone for 25 minutes and make all the free calls we wanted. It was like a dream come true. Kids just don’t know how lucky they have it these days.

Nothing like coming home a little tipsy, eating fried pork dumplings, and watching the latest episode of Beautiful People...so good, so good, so good.

Okay, I take back all ill will toward my mother-- I just got my Easter box! Turns out it was just a little late in coming from ye olde office mailroom. Survey says: one box of regular Peeps, 2 boxes of strawberry creme Peep eggs, one bag of Robin's Eggs, one bag of Starburst Jelly Beans, one Milky Way Egg, and two Cadbury Dairy Milk bunnies...Yeehaw!

Happy Easter, Folks.

I had a delightful holiday weekend.

It started on Friday- which turned out to be a "Good Friday" indeed. The ole boss let us out of work early and Tiff and I ended up going to the free MySpace Franz Ferdinand show at Hammerstein. Such fun. They put on a good show. The best part was all of the teeny bopper girl superfans...at one point, the band invited fans onstage to sing along with them and I got mauled by like 25 squealing teenagers...I thought I might be trampled to death...It was worth it though, because I got to see this girl up on stage:





Yes, the girl in the white...hilarious. I guess it isn't fully apparent from the pictures, but this girl thought she was the star of the show- and, you know what, she was. She had on bright red lipstick and was vamping it up like all get out. You go girl! I know this makes it obvious that I'm a horrible person. I'm not making fun at all, I swear, I just loved how into it she was.

Friday was topped off with a brilliant FC Kitchen Sink win on the soccer turf and a very bizarre party-going experience. Don't ask.

Debbie was in town yesterday, and I pretty much spent the entire day eating and wandering aimlessly in the amazing weather...ending in a rousing game of Scattergories at Meredith's house, which I obviously won. Oh yeah, and I finally did my taxes...oops.

Easter was celebrated today with a yummy meal at Stuart's, followed by a trip to the roof of Katie's gallery. Lots of good food and mimosas were consumed-- and look! You could see our soccer field from the roof!







PS- Meredith and Jill hosted a lovely Passover Seder on Wednesday night. Here are pics:

Jenn gave me the coolest/weirdest Easter present ever yesterday:

RED Peeps.

RED ones! Apparently they are a Target Easter exclusive. SO bizarre...and kind of twisted...I mean, I get that Target is all about brand recognition and identifying their brand with the color red...but these are pretty much blood red and for a holiday about a man being crucified...maybe we should all eat red Peeps from now on for the Eucharist...

I haven't tasted the bloody chicks yet, but I'll let you know. In general, I LOVE the things. Every year, my mom sends me a box for Easter filled with all sorts of Easter basket goodies. This usually includes about 3 boxes of the yellow chicks, and sometimes I get pink bunnies as well. My NEW favorite are the Strawberry Cream Eggs. SO tasty. They make them as hearts for Valentine's Day as well, check them out. Unfortunately, my capacity for Peep intake has seriously diminished over the past few years, and last year I think two boxes of Peeps sat up on our fridge for like 6 months...Mom, If you are reading this, I love the Peeps, but maybe only one box this year, okay? Actually, I feel a bit sad, because I have yet to receive an Easter care package this year...is one coming at all? Mom, just because I'm 24 now doesn't mean I don't like getting boxes of candy...

I was just reading through some of my past entries (Why? Cause I’m bored? Cause I’m sentimental? Cause I’m narcissistic?) and realized that almost all of my entries are about one or both of two things: Social awkwardness/discomfort and Alcohol/Drinking. Food for thought.

I just read a blog entry someone posted about two people I know really well. It's just so interesting to read how a stranger might interpret the behavior of people that you know. It got me thinking: How do people judge me? Or, really, how do I judge other people based solely upon really basic information?...This is obviously a really large topic to tackle, but I really think that us New Yorkers are far more guilty of being judgmental than we'd like to believe.

Just the other day, Katie and I stopped into a sports bar on the Upper West Side to watch the NCAA Woman's Basketball Championship. It was filled with dudes in suits and I immediately wrote them all off as a) I-bankers and b) not my type. There was a young(ish) man sitting next to us at the bar, also wearing a suit, and I wrote him off as both a) and b) as well. As it turned out, he was a urologist. He was just wearing a suit because he had a conference that day. He was very cute and nice and I, in fact, ended up giving him my card (pimped out by Katie). On any given day, I could be wearing any number of different types of outfits depending on where I was going-- do I want people making snap judgments on me based on that? There were years when I had bright red dyed hair. I have had black hair. At the moment my hair is its natural color. I have had my nose ring in and out depending on the year. Sometimes you can see the tattoo on my back, sometimes it's covered. Sometimes I wear thrift clothes, sometimes stuff straight out of the Gap.

But it's not just looks, it's attitude and behavior as well. Sometimes I'm tired and cranky, sometimes I'm peppy and hyper. God knows what strangers have thought of me during any of these times. In sixth grade, a good friend of mine revealed that she had thought I was a snob on the first day of school because I didn't talk to anyone. I was flabbergasted. On the first day of school I was so nervous about not knowing anyone that I didn't speak to anyone. I didn't think I was better than everyone else, I was afraid of them. Shy can be misconstrued as standoffish, tired can be misconstrued as sad, and hyper can be misconstrued as on coke. Obviously, there's no way to avoid judgments from happening, but it's weird to remove yourself from your own vision of who you are and think about how others might perceive you. I guess, in the long run, it doesn't really matter what strangers think as long as you have enough friends and family in your life that know who you really are and like you for it.

Went to see Wolf Parade tonight at Webster Hall. God, I've been there like every week in the past month... One complaint: Why do shows on the weekends get out at 10pm and shows on Monday get out at midnight? Makes ZERO sense. Okay, so on the weekends they need to get the concert kids out for the club kids, but, seriously...there must be a better system...Anywho, Wolf Parade was great. I think I liked seeing them live better than the album- somehow they seemed more of a distinct band after hearing them live...or something...anywho, enjoy the pics (although sometimes blurry), I am off to bed (yeesh!).