Last night went to a party at the home of Al who used to date Ruth who dated GK4 after me, where I met Megan who went to college with Charlie and who went to camp with my across-the-street neighbor Beth and who is childhood friends with Vera, with whom I also used to play as a child, and who slept with GK4, and who lives with Marie,who is dating Moishe, and whose ex-husband grew up with Tony who went to college with Slim, who went to high school with Caitlin, who dates Justin who went to high school with me.

OK, Another of My reviews

"I had always assumed that, like swimming with dolphins and visiting Sesame Place, dining at Stand fell into the category of things I could happily die without ever doing. And yet, the other evening some friends and I emerged from a nearby theatre on the cusp of 11.30 craving burgers, and Stand (open daily to midnight) beckoned.

The cavernous space is high-concept and vaguely post-industrial. We were confronted by a large circular desk thing containing a wholly superfluous maitre d', who seated us at an enormous wooden table. Various beautifully groomed, black-clad men glided around. This was all very well, but the only other patrons (on a Friday night, btw) were a table of strikingly un-fabulous NYU students, and some Japanese tourists in a corner - although it should be said that one of these was sporting a faux-hawk.

We gave a pass to the burger soup and burger salad and all ordered regular burgers and a large fries. Root beers were presented with some ceremony from the slick-looking bar at the room's center, from whence, one assumes, the various alcoholic milkshakes emerge. Having all tacitly decided to get out of here as soon as possible, no one in my party availed himself of these.

Burgers were tasty enough (although I'm on record in my dislike of brioche buns), topped with red onion, pickle, shredded lettuce, mustard and sided with homemade ketchup (helpfully supplemented by some Heinz's on the table.) Fries were hot and fresh. The homemade ketchup was controversial, tart and somewhat chunky. While no substitute for the real thing, I took a shine to this peculiar condiment and ate everyone's portion with a spoon. (But then, I eat canned tomatoes as snacks.)

Food was fine, prices were standard upmarket at about $10 a pop. But the whole experience made us giggle. It managed to feel really dated and silly, like some kind of former hotspot club from 1998. I'm sure if I lived in the area I'd succomb to takeout on a rainy night, but I certainly don't feel any need to reprise the experience."

Another Review

"Wtf is the deal with Billyburg/Gpt and their one-night rentals? And if they're gonna do that, would it kill any of these video places to get a drop slot? It's such a scam. I'm tempted to grab a hatchet and spend a night hacking slits in all their doors.

Beyond that, this is an okay little video shop. The selection's not huge, but the niche stuff - ie, Hammer Horror, and (duh) noir - is solidly repped.

I liked the owner, Will, but wasn't really satisfied with my experience.

I explained to him what I was looking for:

A creepy psychological thriller/horror movie along the lines of Don't Look Now, The Innocents, the original Wicker Man, Haunting of Hill House or The Others. (I added that, despite its mediocrity, there were things I liked about the Skeleton Key.)

In short, I like a non-campy movie dealing with ghosts and the occult. Catholic clergy is a plus. Serial killers, vampires, zombies, killer animals and monsters of other kinds need not apply.

We discussed this earnestly for some time and he determined that I must rent The Black Cat, based on a Poe story. As he seemed to understand exactly what I was looking for, I was very excited and set aside a whole evening for viewing.

Well, The Black Cat was idiotic. Campy, silly and full of fake blood. I hope I'm not spoiling anything for anyone when I tell you it's about an evil cat (black) who mauls people. I had no problem getting it back within the allotted day's time frame.

If there's something specific I want, I guess I'd try Film Noir again, but I do rely on the expertise of the film geeks at this sort of small shop - the thing, aft all, that separates it from Netflix - and The Black Cat left a very bad taste in my mouth!"

There was an odd period this past Spring when I was up for a job at an online reveiw site, and as a result was cranking out reviews at an almost preternatural pace. I just looked some of them over - and they were strange. I can really see why I wasn't hired. Here's one:

It has been suggested by the less charitable of my associates that if something is mediocre and more than a hundred years old, I automatically love it.

This is true.

It is certainly true of Glaser's, which celebrated its 106th birthday yesterday. It's the kind of no-fireworks bakery that you used to be able to find on every block: basic cookies and cake; brownies; not-terribly-strong coffee, and that New York classic, the Cheese Danish.

No, nothing is spectacular, although plenty of things - the cinnamon roll, the very basic hot cross bun, the sugar donut - are just fine.

Nevertheless, Glaser's is one of my favorite places in the city and, with all due respect to my grandparents and Museum Mile, my favorite reason to come to the Upper East Side. It's a total time capsule: utterly old-fashioned and friendly, with rock-bottom prices. (A coffee and donut will run you about $1!) The somewhat mediocre pastries are somehow comforting: you know exactly what you are getting and nothing ever shocks or surprises. Things taste exactly as they did when I used to come in for a leaf cookie when I was three. And, probably, just the way they did in 1902.

Cakes etc. are shockingly cheap. I don't know who gets wedding cake here (although I totally will) but I'm sure the dusty specimen in the display case would not be hard on the wallet. When I was in yesterday, a young mother was ordering cupcakes for her 3-year-old's birthday party.

"I'm going to write "vibrant colors" very clearly on this order form," said the lovely woman taking down her order, "otherwise the baker might write "vibrant' on the cupcake. Recently, he wrote, "leave this space blank" on a chocolate cake; he's very literal at 4 a.m."

There is a wonderful parade of Yorkville old-timers who come in and out; the ladies know everyone by name. Last time I was in, a smug old man in a "USS Missouri" cap snickered and sneered at everyone who came in from a corner. He was there for at least two hours (I checked.) I wanted to die and be reincarnated as a mediocre 75 cent chocolate cupcake in that ancient display case, to be eaten by a strange old person of German extraction who may or may not have been involved in The Bund as a youth.

The End."

The Jack Russell and "the little dog," both of whom live upstairs, are having puppies. "The little dog" (the dad) is something tiny so they should be cute in combination. Kind of want one.

On The Town

I usually have to be forced to go to parties, and always try to back out at the last minute and then have a moment of panic before going in...BUT this weekend I was persuaded to go to one of those Scene parties where you know and almost know a lot of people. I had fun, not least because Slim enjoys everything so wholeheartedly. What's more, we had a new friend - whom Slim met in a vintage shop - who proved to be one of those social creatures who relishes meeting people and dances with no self-consciousness whatsoever. He was darling and at the end of the day lots of other people are, too. Or was I in a benevolent mood? Certainly feeling philosophically inclined, having just come from a sherry with a friend who impressed upon me the importance of aesthetics - sensibility-wise, that is.

What a contrast was the next evening! We had a few of Slim's friends over for birthday drinks. I must say, it's very rewarding to cook for gluttons: they really relished the two casseroles of mac & cheese, roast tomatoes, salad, pumpkin pie and cake I made. (Later on, Slim and Frank made a concoction of pumpkin piue filling, brandied whipped cream and cake crumbs; they also fried some of the leftover mac and cheese in bacon fat.) The cake was, of course, a wine cake, which is the official birthday cake in my mother's family. It's so good that I'll tell you how to make it:

-Mix 1 box yellow cake mix with a large instant vanilla pudding (or a regular box plus a few T), a cup of oil, 5 eggs, and 3/4 cup of sherry. Bake it in a bundt pan at 375 for about 45 minutes. Then, while still in the pan, poke the cake's bottom all over with a skewer. Make a glaze from about 1 C powdered sugar and enough sherry to thin it and pour this over. Let it sit about 15 minutes. Then turn it out, poke the cake all over, and pour on more glaze. Sounds vile, is the best thing ever.



Sunday we slept late, then had brunch at the new market-driven hipster spot in the area. It was pretty good: a pleasant vibe, Heart etc. on the box, of course a few too many familiar faces. I had the eggs, which came with a choice of 2 sides (I had baked tomatoes and bacon.) My poached eggs, while organic etc., were too hard, and the home fries are the french fry type I don't like. Also, they only have espresso drinks rather than coffee. However, Slim liked his gravlax a lot and the whole experience was pleasant. We took a long walk and it was a nice Sunday...and then.

I had a movie date to see Twilight with two friends, semi-ironically. I headed to Carroll Gardens, stopped by the store with some pumpkin whoopie pies from One Girl, and met my friends. The setup couldn't have been better: we were surrounded by young teens who were almost overcome with excitement. I didn't know much about the movie and have no interest in vampires, but I was quickly riveted: I can't remember being more satisfied by a viewing experience! And oh my gosh the chemistry! Unfortunately, then there was a scene with a lot of bleeding and in what I think may have been a humiliating incident of hyper-empathy for Bella, the teenage heroine, I got very woozy, stumbled out of the theatre and promptly fainted on the floor outside the bathroom. I came to to find a bunch of people yelling at me; someone - I think not an employee - was saying that I'd had a heart attack. I tried to explain that I hadn't and not to call an ambulance, but it's hard to recover at first from the nausea and wooziness and it took a few moments to get me settled against the wall with some flat coke - when all I wanted was to get back into the theatre to see the PROM SCENE! They wouldn't let me. What's worse, someone insisted on pulling my friends out of the movie, which was the last thing I wanted. Ignominious doesn't begin to describe it. But yeah, Twilight is incredibly good.

Discoveries

When I went to find these pictures on the camera, I discovered that Slim has been taking all sorts of nocturnal pictures.
Strange still-lifes:

And self-portraits!