Tomoe + Karaoke = Saturday

Reader, this is, as usual, an excessively long and boring post. Apologies. In 2005, I’ll try to learn to say things succinctly. And I'll use punctuation that makes my life seem more exciting. For instance, I'm about to make myself a sandwich! It's gonna taste awesome! Sincerely, The Love of Your Life, Eric!

It’s Monday, 12/20. I’m afflicted with some sort of flu that I got in NYC. No worries. I’m alive, at home in Connecticut with a bunch of dvd’s that I ordered for ten dollars each at the old jobbity-job. (To raise money for a good cause (sorry, I didn’t pay attention to the good cause) a bunch of entertainment companies donated tons of dvd’s to be sold for ten dollars each.) There were some good purchases (4 Criterion movies) but I went on a spree and bought a few movies I’ve never seen (Hellboy 3-Disc Set, Pink Panther 6 disc set, Man on Fire). Anyway, pass the remote, Fido the Faithful (dog’s name is actually Murphy) and let the entertainment begin.

Hit reverse. To get you caught up. Last week:
Thursday: I took the redeye flight last Wednesday. Again, Jet Blue made unawesome by being seated next to a guy who very well could possibly be the world’s tallest man. Robert Wadlow’s descendant quickly fell asleep and my head served as a pillow for his armpit. This guy was gigantic. His armpit was a warm cocoon for my head, and I put on the headphones and watched VH-1 Classic for the whole flight. Landed at JFK on Thursday 5:35am and realized that I hadn’t slept. As soon as I stepped outside into the New York Dawn, I realized that my acclimated-to-Los-Angeles body had no idea what cold really was. Took a bus home to Connecticut. There was dare-i-say a shitload of traffic so I didn’t get into Norwalk until 10am. My mom picked me up at the train station and took me home where I fell asleep for the entire day. I woke up for dinner, yet I have no idea what we ate. I went on a drive to the supermarket and bought sixty dollars worth of groceries that I thought would be fun to have at the house… (unfortunately, no jiffy pop)

Friday: It was a lazy day. I did something in Connecticut but can’t remember exactly. Took a train into the city and went to P-Getz’s office… P-Getz (former roommate/hetero-life partner (really, I lived with the guy for 3 years. He’s a great friend and it was wonderful to see him this weekend. I’d take a bullet for him (in the hand, not torso, but still, a bullet)) and I headed to the Belgian Beer Garden (can't recall the name) and started downing frites and glass upon glass of Lambic Framboise (a raspberry beer that is more like cherry 7-up than any beer. It’s like a pricey version of the red Smirnoff Ice, but better. Drink it, Alice.) Molly the Red (also known as Molly the Charming, Molly the Showtunes Goddess (more on that later) joined us. The French bartender who used to work there and at Murray’s cheeseshop back in early ’04 was nowhere to be seen. Man, I wish I had gotten up the nerve back in the day to talk to her, or at least buy her everything she wanted and propose marriage). After raspbeerathon ’04, Molly left (no worries: lots of good Molly stuff on Saturday). A note in advance: I ate like a king while in NYC. Gluttons everywhere would be proud. P-Getz and I then walked over to Cornelia Street and joined Martha (former roommate #2) for dinner at Pearl Oyster Bar. I gotta hand it to Rebecca Charles; She runs a tight ship and Pearl is still cranking out superb New England style seafood. We ordered: a bottle of wine (I was already drunk and don’t have any clue what it was), 3 lobster rolls, 18 oysters (6 fried, a dozen raw), 2 bowls of clam chowder, and a slice of apple crumble pie (which actually had berries in it as well, thanks Ms. Charles. Appreciated. Your not-so-secret-admirer, Eric). While the lobster rolls aren’t complicated, (Lobster Meat with Mayo on a toasted, buttered, Pepperidge Farm hotdog bun) at Pearl, every single time, it’s perfect. The lobster meat is perfectly tender, the shoestring fries are right out of the oil and salted nicely. It’s a great way to spend 20 dollars (just the lobster roll, the meal was a little higher than that). P-Getz and I jump in a cab with Martha and head to a party her friends are showing. P-Getz and I feel uncool surrounded by the hipsters and leave quickly. Apparently, we miss out on beautiful models.But not too bummed. I mean, I live in Los Angeles. I see human form reach perfection every time I go to the gym. P-Getz and I go to the Cowgirl Hall of Fame and drink strawberry margaritas out of glass jars. We wander home and I fall asleep on P-Getz’s floor.

Saturday: I wake up at 11. I watch tv. I take a shower. I get in line at Tomoe Sushi on Thompson street at 12:45. (They open at 1), and wait for P-Getz who’s getting a massage (really, a full spa treatment. Read: mani and pedi…) E-Nolte (my amazing co-worker from the paralegal days) joins us. I can’t recount everything we ordered, but I’ll say it was definitely too much. The toro was super-decadent.
3pm- P-Getz and I meet up with Molly at Murray’s cheeseshop (now next to Faicco’s on Bleecker) and order a wide variety of cheeses. The guy at the counter recommends 3 cheeses in a row that he thinks are better than what I asked for. He gives us samples and the cheeses all taste good, so we’re in. Then the P-Getz, E-Rock, M-Balfe gluttonous triumvirate walk over to winesby.com (the store not the website) and buy a couple of reds. Support this store. They’ve got great wines. Molly, P-Getz and I sit on the couch at my former home on Waverly Place, eat pears and cheese, drink wine, and watch “Fletch”. The apartment fills up with stinky cheese stench. Success. Molly heads out to get ready for the night’s activities… Which brings us to…
9pm- P-Getz, Martha and I head to Yeah Shanghai, next to the Chinatown Ice Cream Factory. N-Romaz, A-Wurthmazizzle, and M-Balfe all join in for a great dinner of dumplings and Chinese cerveza. Next destination: karaoke. A-Davie and B-Talbs show up as does poker host extraordinaire/karaoke supernova A-Scars. M-Balfe and A-Scars lead the karaoke-ers on a 4 hour mission. Fueled by liquor and lousy instrumental tracks, the mission was a complete success. I was a mess, referring to myself as “Rick Dickulous”. After singing most of "Jesus Christ Superstar", We, as a group, closed with “Sister Christian”. We gave ourselves a standing ovation and called it a night. Outside, there was a gang of unruly dudes, all drunk; dressed as Santa Claus. Nice to meet you guys...

Sunday: Martha and I have brunch at Deborah’s on Carmine Street. I order a Bloody Mary for the first time in awhile, and yes, I still think it’s a gross way to start the day. --- Dear Self, No more Bloody Marys. You hate tomato juice. Love, Yourself.--- We then walk to the Apple Store in SOHO where I wanted to incur some credit card debt. Unfortunately, the line was superlong so Martha and I bolted north. We caught “Lemony Snicket” and I laughed hard. The baby’s baby sounds are subtitled in a way that feels separate from the film, but still great. Really awesome production design and I feel like it would have been rewarding to cry at the end, but I didn’t want Martha thinking I went soft during my time spent thus far in L.A. After “The Incredibles” and “Lemony Snicket”, I’m sort of curious about this trend of having human characters die in family films, and whether there’ll be more of this as an attempt to be truthful to American kids in a post-9/11 world… I dunno… Anyway, “Lemony Snicket” is a lot of fun, and it’s got a nice dose of cynicism that kids can enjoy… The big climax at the end of the movie felt awkwardly paced but overall, a strong B+ recommendation for this film.
I leave Martha and head uptown to B-Talbz’s house where I’m going to crash that night. As I emerge from the subway at 110th Street, snow is falling.
B-Talbz, K-sis and I head to Mama Mexico for margaritas, guacamole and grub. The margarita hits me hard. B-Talbz and I stay up late and watch “Jackass:The Movie” and “Citizen Ruth”. I fall asleep on the Aerobed (which I still need to buy for Hotel Los Feliz so that I don’t have to crash in the bathtub everytime there’s a guest).

Monday: I’m starting to feel sick. Runny nose, sore throat, heavy head. 10am breakfast with P-Getz and Blueman. We go to Grey Dog Coffee on Cornelia. It’s 14 degrees outside. I go back to Casa de Talbz and fall asleep for a few hours. I’m not feeling so good, and now I’m afraid that she’ll get sick. I pack up all of my things and depart without so much as a goodbye to B-Talbz or a thank-you. Felt like a jerk but a jerk with a bad case of the flu. Mom picked me up at the train station. I went home and fell asleep.

Things are well... Will fill you in on the rest of this week as it comes... Just so this makes sense, I'm posting this on Thursday although it only fills you in on life up until Monday. Anyone have a fav. Christmas movie. I mean, "Dekalogue 3" by Kieslowski, although only an hour, is pretty awesome for film dorks. "A Christmas Story" is playing on tv in a 24 hour marathon this weekend. Can't wait, Eric