A day by day and often hourly account of a temp

Wednesday, October 12, 2011


I really didn't think the New York Times could out-New-York-Times itself, but after reading an article today, it appears I was mistaken. Now, don't get me wrong. I love the New York Times, and if the paper wasn't true to itself, I would be disappointed. So I share this with you lovingly.

Here is what happened: I'm on the train today reading the New York Times on my iPhone because I'm that girl. Sidenote - my boyfriend was also reading the New York Times on his iPhone because he's that guy. Together, we are blindingly white. So he's reading about sports or Slovakia (collective WTF about that, right?) and much like the commercial, I check out the magazine. Or, an article about Per Se. Basically, it's a food critic's last article there and he wants to go out with a bang, so he chooses his "last meal", and declares Per Se as the best restaurant in New York City.

That wouldn't have been bad at all had he not compared the restaurant to an opera, proceeding to declare each dish certain aspects of said opera. Here's some fun parts:

"And to some, a simple garden salad is the functional equivalent of an aria — particularly as sung at Per Se."

"Standing-room tickets are not sold, but there is an à la carte menu available in the salon up front."

"The restaurant’s truffle-stuffed fat-chicken thigh — crisp, soft, juicy, deep in flavor, with Medjool dates made into marbles, a Nantes carrot mousseline and buttery truffle sauce — might be a tenor’s great turn."

Fuck, now I'm hungry. Where was I? Oh, yes:

"And the beauty of Christofle flatware and Raynaud china, as well as a polished view of the Christopher Columbus statue below, the twinkle of gas firelight and the feel of linens ironed to the texture of freshly sanded pine, can be exactly analogous to towering sets and a thundering orchestra, to the kind of stagecraft that can lead to tears and applause."

No review like that would be complete without this line:

"You may ask to tour the kitchen afterward, or linger over coffee, or simply stare out at Columbus and his dour expression, and contemplate Nirvana."

I swear, this entire review has an air to it akin to the breathlessness of a Courtney Stodden tweet. But really, it was over for me when he managed to make a reference to Marlboros and Coca Cola. And don't think for one second I don't know that as a "blogger" I, too, have jumped the shark by making a Courtney Stodden reference. No one should ever have to deal with that.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Presidential Primary Theater

Herman Cain: Thank you for meeting me here.

Michele Bachmann: Why are we at a Denny's?

Cain: Shhh!

Bachmann: What?

Cain: I don't want to get recognized.

Bachmann: Ok. So, why did you bring me out here?

Cain: First, have you tried the Grand Slamwich? It's fucking delightful.

Bachmann: Mr. Cain!

Cain: Herman.

Bachmann: Herman, I'm a busy woman, and I don't have a lot of time so will you please get to the point?

Cain: Michele, I think you know why you're here.

Bachmann: They say you are ahead in the polls.

Cain: "They" are right.

Bachmann: If you win the nomination, you'll need a running mate.

Cain: No.

Bachmann: What?

Cain: That's not true. Not in my world. I'll need you.

Bachmann: Herman, I don't follow.

Cain: How about... I be YOUR running mate.

Bachmann: I... huh?

Cain: Michele, it's PERFECT! No one has ever seen anything like this before! I win the primary and then BOOM! I declare, as president of the nomination, my first order of business will be to step down and be YOUR running mate!

Bachmann: I have no idea how that will work but I like where you're going.

Cain: Michele, this party is all about surprises. We're going to need to do something radical to get people's attention. And let's face it, you are more qualified.

Bachmann: That's true.

Cain: And your husband has always been so nice to me.

Bachmann: He does like to give a good back rub!

Cain: Plus all the time he's visited me at Grandfathers Pizza late at night, walking me to my car to make sure I get home safe.

Bachmann: He's a heck of a guy.

Cain: It's your calling, Michele.

Bachmann: Herman, you know I only listen to God.

Cain: Just think of me as his son, Jesus. (He takes Michele's hand)

Bachmann: (she holds it, then pulls away) Herman I...

Cain: Yes?

Bachmann: I should go.

Cain: Should you?

(They gaze into each others eyes)

Tuesday, October 04, 2011

Heart, Occupied

Well, we knew this would happen. It's our first, or, fist (you'll see), official Craigslist Occupy Wall Street Love Connection. I can't believe there's not more of these. I have a lot of friends who are heavily involved in this issue, so I've refrained from making a, "Jobs may not be getting made during the Occupy Wall Street protests, but I'll bet you that babies are" joke. Either way, we can only hope that this is just the beginning. But I do hope that in the future, the second word of the post doesn't have a sexually connotative misspelling.

Cute anarchist(?) protestor arrested at Occupy Wall Street - m4w - 29 (90th precinct house, Williamsburg)

Date: 2011-10-02, 5:14AM EDT
Reply to:

I fist spotted you at Zuccotti Park/Liberty Square right before the march started. You're a few years younger than me with short, dark hair and you were wearing all black with leggings and a red handkerchief around your neck. I thought you crushingly attractive but things got moving and I lost track of you before I was able to work up the nerve to say hello. I saw you again a couple hours later when we got arrested on the Brooklyn Bridge, and then we ended up in neighboring cells at the 90th precinct house in Williamsburg. I'm the tall guy with glasses and short, dark hair wearing jeans and a tan t-shirt. I had a gray hoodie with black stripes on the bridge. You made fun of my shoes' tongues falling out because they'd confiscated our shoelaces! Unfortunately you were released in the first group and I in the last, so I couldn't find you by the time I got out. Curses!

I'll be looking for you hard the next time I'm down there, and I won't let the opportunity pass by me a 2nd time! But in case I don't see you, know that I'd love to buy you a coffee or tea or what-have-you (it's cold in that park!) and hear what draws you to the demonstration. Say hello!

UPDATE: You are photographed very prominently on The Guardian:

  • Location: 90th precinct house, Williamsburg
  • it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

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