I watched the all-night marathon of The Real World: Hawaii this morning after I got home.  What a blast from the way-too-recent past.  People listening to Hole songs, people wearing sparkly bodyglitter, people using pagers.  What?!  A pager?!  Huh?  *Sprite looks over at his dead, neglected pager.  Over at his old tube of body glitter (from those wannabe-clubkid days).  Over at that damn Celebrity Skin CD stuffed in the stack of pre-mp3ness.  Hurls all three across the room into the trash.*  Does anyone even remember how those things even worked anymore?  I saw somebody rocking one on their beltclip right next to their cell and it just fascinated me that ppl still use them on the regular.  Ever since I joined the wonderful cellular world, I don’t think I even know WHERE my pager is.  I still keep it, pay the bill every few months, just b/c I’m emotionally attatched to the number and have had it since I was 20 (it was a bday present to myself).  So yeah, the show.  I decided after watching this, that I like Amaya.  Girl was whiny and needy but damn she was cute and real and didn’t put up a front like some of those OTHER assholes (I’m looking at YOU, Matt and Kaia, you evil little cunts).  And I really, really like Ruthie.  She fucking blew me away on this year’s Battle of the Sexes and I just think she got totally shafted during her season by those fuckers @ MTV or BMP whoever.  Coolass girl, I love her whole “Human beings have to realize their power as forces” vibe.  She also just so happens to be a fillipina!  Mmmm.  Plus, she’s all up on the Metrosexual train — hell, she’s the damn conductor.  The way she straight-up romanced that straightish girl outta the boring dark and into the sunny world of hetero-flexibility?  Heh.  Work it if it’s worth it, girl.    The new season of this shit is starting soon…  I love the promos.

Strawberry, blueberry, and brownsugar Pop-Tarts are making me a very happy boy these days.  So are fruit smoothies, even moreso than before.  Strawberry-bananna!  I may have to get mine ass to Target soon and purchase a blender, as I will be making my own smoothies once I begin a roommate-impaired and financially-repressed existance.

I got Fridays off from work!  YAY!  Now I can finally see people again w/o forcing them to meet me at weirdass hours on random days.  Maybe with the summer coming along, Friday can finally be date-night.  Hell, who am I kidding?  The delivery guy @ Domino’s totally gives me the pity-glance every Friday night.  It’s just SAD.

Song:  “Hey Man”
Artist:  Nelly Furtado
Real lyrics were:  And I don’t want ambivalence / No I don’t want ambivalence no more
But I misheard them as:  And I don’t want the syhphilis / No I don’t want the syphilis no more
Age when I realized the lyrical truth:  24.   But I still think my version is better.

Ran into this girl I met once through an old roommate tonight, on the A train.  I forget her name.  Mary-Beth, Maryanne, something very proper and very Petticoat Junction.  She was like, “Don’t I know you?” and I was all, “Yeah, didn’t you sleep on my couch once?”  Anyway, was pretty random.  She told me about this movie she’d just checked out and now I’m making it my highest priority to see it.  It’s called “Washington Heights” and it’s just about this latin guy who lives uptown, runs his father’s grocery store, has crazy white friends, and wants to be a cartoonist or something.  Substitute the grocery store with a madman’s hotel, and toss in “cool stud” in place of “cartoonist”, and you’ve got a movie about my life.  Woo-hoo!  I’m just dying to go see this movie about somebody who lives in New York City and lives ABOVE w.14th Street.  Finally!  Somebody with a NORMAL address.  We are not all trendy little hipsters living in the Village.  NYC life for 20-somethings is hardly an episode of Friends, man.  Fucking shit, that show is the root of all evil.  You know I’m still watching it though.

For the record? that bodyglitter was only worn under my eyes in a very masculine, um, very football jock, Left-Eye style.  K?

Happy weekend, people!

For MORE of my nonsense, click the hyperlink @ the top of the page.

Woke up coughing today.  Not of the “ahem-ahem” order, more like the sound that one of those gross old women on the bus make when they breath.  You know the ones, they’re skin is all gross and leathery and they’ve been smoking hardcore since way back before they’d even invented cigarettes.  Like, they just sat around smoking books all day in the 1930’s or something.  Yeah, that’s what I sound like.  A mighty wind’s a-blowin’ up in this mother.  Also, I hate old women on the bus.

Work bored the hell out of me yesterday.  The only semi-eventful part of the night was when a couple came to check into their suite @ 7pm and it wasn’t ready.  When I saw the room wasn’t ready a funny little nervous rumble started in my chest cuz I knew they were about to freak when I told them, and fuckedup little me sort of was looking forward to the drama.  No such luck.  Normally, ppl would have flipped out about something like that — a room not being ready by that late in the evening! — but these folks were totally cool about it and just hung out in the hotel Patio Park.  It was so anti-climactic.  I was sorta hoping for a scene. 

Adolph pulled me and Roxie into a quick meeting last night, one that I only ended up walking out of feeling ridiculous and tacky.  They just suspended and fired two people yesterday and he wanted to talk to us about it, let us know why, and basically announce that the Front Office is trying to re-establish some priorities and move into a more effecient direction.  Sounds really good right?  Wrong.  All that corporate jargon really means? is that from now on they want us to be flexible enough to work whatever schedules they feel like making, even tho that when we were hired, we were assured they could work with OUR availability.  Roxie comepletely proved her uncoolness to me (which I have ALWAYS been suspicious of) by basically just agreeing with everything that Adolph had to say, even the bullshit about how he’s gonna start re-evaluating some of the staff.  She just kept saying things like, “Good, we need it” and “Well I’m happy to hear this b/c…” and i just wanted to smack her.  The worse part is that I don’t even think she was trying to suck up, she seemed to genuinely be glad to hear that they were gonna try and fire everybody.  Adolph kept assuring me that Roxie and I had nothing to worry about, and I’m like, “Bitch, I know.”  That was so not even my concern; my work (and the THANK YOU, CHRIS! notes from the guests) speaks for itself, I have no worries about losing my job.  To me, it was more about speaking out against this kind if unfair spin they were gonna put us into.  I told him that I found it really uncool that they hired all of us b/c we’re pretty and funny and looked good at the front desk and never even TRIED to see if we were good at the job, and all of a sudden they wanna start acting like the main focus has always been on bigger, more important things.  Bullshit.  The hotel wanted a certain type of people at the desk, people with a Look, and our getting hired had shit to do with how GOOD we were at customer service.  Ian Schrager Hotels is all about the elitist, pretty people and the ambience (hello, Studio 54?) and they only RECENTLY started shifting their focus onto customer service, so it’s a bigass FRONT to try and pretend that it’s what we REALLY cared about all along.  I have ended up really finding a knack for what the job demands, but that’s only b/c I wanted to, not b/c it was required of me.  I told him all of this, and Roxie totally balks at my statements, trying to sound all indignant and offended — which is total bullshit b/c she’s the biggest Lookist out of everyone.  When Roxie first started? her whole GOAL was to do nothing but stand around and look nice and “greet people” while the rest of us checked them in.  Her and Adolph both just pooh-poohed what I had to say b/c they didn’t like that it was true.  Maybe they’d have taken me more seriously if I wasn’t coughing before, during, and after every sentance.

Hating this.  Must. get. to. doctor. NOW!  BJ’s Cute Girlfriend gave me the address to some office she goes to in the hood so I think I’m gonna drag myself over before I hack up my kidneys.  Ugh.  I just hate going to them.  I’m always certain that they’re gonna be like, “In addition to a growing heart abnormality, you have the pox.  And herpes too.  Also, your going blind.  Why have you waited so long to come to a doctor?  We might have been able to help before but it’s too late now.  You’re going to die.”   I’m totally not sick, it’s just this randomn whooping cough that keeps waking me up.  I knew I shouldn’t have done that crack.  Just knew it.

On the upswing: I got a dirty peice of spam mail today.  The sender was Ivana B. Onya.  Fucking love it.

Your boyfriend was sitting in his room today glued to the TV set.  He had this glazed look in his eye.  A freaky smile on his face.  He looked transfixed and happy.  Giddy, almost.  When I peeked at the TV screen to see what had thrown him into such a state, I was met with the image of a boy.  A little boy in little shorts banging furiously on something with a stick.  Then there were tons of them.  Hundreds.  Thousands of little blond boys beating drums.  They were in the stands of a bigass stadium full of… OTHER men.  All in little shorts.  Then Hitler rode out in a car to the center of the ring and made a big speech on absolute power, being really short, and killing all the jews and christians.  This all made BJ really really happy.

Sweetie, get out while you still can. 

Ok, I have gotten a slew of e’s, IM’s, and singing telegrams about the new layout around here.  I’m talking about the whole thing where now, when you click on my journal, you are taken automatically to my newest entry as opposed to an archive of all entries.  To my suprise, a lot of you sort of fucking hate it.  I just wanna remind everyone that it’s just a test, I’m just trying something out.  Also, I’m only updating the Damn Anthems once every few days b/c I don’t think anybody much checks it.  <insert spiteful face.>  Oh, and since there seems to be some confusion, YES you can still read all my old entries!  All you have to do (for um, the 3rd time…) is click on that hyperlink @ the top of the page that says Spriteboy’s Log> and it will take you to the journal list that you used to see all the time.  You can read all the old entries there and no, I would not dream of depriving ya’ll of that shit, b/c we all need a little reminder of just how extreme my damage is.  What better way than to peruse the archives?  Same goes for all my Rants & Raves.  See, it’s just a little bit of change, people.  Nothing too drastic.  I’m not going all Michael Jackson-makeover on ya’ll just yet, my metamorphosis is a but more Cher-inspired, with minor tweaks, nips, and tucks.  If the hate-mail persists and you all just begin boycotting me, I’ll change it back.

Today marks the end of my blissfull, beautiful 3-day weekend.  I had Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday off this week and dear god, it’s felt like a week of vacation.  It’s been so nice not having to do anything major the past few days, gotten me all spoiled and shit.  As much as I wanna say something breezy like, “Ahhhh, it’s just what I needed.  I feel refreshed and ready to handle whatever”,  I just don’t wanna go back to work!  They’re gonna annoy me!  They’re gonna make me TOLERATE assholes!  I feel I spend so much of my week just drowning in assholes.  Nice visual there, huh?  Sorry, my freedom is dying today and I’m back @ work tomorrow, so I’m a little pissy.

Metup with the infamous Jax for dinner in the east village last tonight!  Yay!  She looked great as always, very blonde and healthy and on-the-go — had just came back from kickboxing class, or a man-bashing workshop, or something like that.  She and I went to Dojo, where I had Japanese BBQ chicken cutlets and rice that popped like air bubbles in mouth.  We caught up on everything but spent the bulk of the evening talking about Hudson, which I wished I didn’t do so much with her, especially since she quit.    Walked around the neighborhood, which was really nice.  It was fun playing with her, she’s such a grownup with her big job and her big NYU enrollment and her big Perfect Boyfriend Michael, who is taking her to Jamacia for 5 days in August.  I wish I had somebody taking me to Jamacia.  Hell, I wish I had somebody taking me seriously.  She is very excited about my Mission:Idiot screening coming up, which I had actually forgotten about!  Yay, I’m in a movie!

By the way, if anybody is feeling generous? I am all about this hooplah.  If you got money, I got the time.  Prove your love to me, winners. 

I rewatched some of the Divas Duets thing on vh1 and you know what I spotted?  Celine Dion was lip-synching!  She made all those usual, Celine-standard gestures like flicking her head back and beating herself in the chest to hit those high notes — but it was all a facade!  Queen Latifah totally announced her as the big, wonderful, GREATEST! SINGER! IN ALL! THE WORLD! and the bitch comes out there and lip-synches.  What a world, man.  I knew we couldn’t trust her.  Please, just look @ her these days, she can’t even be trusted to find a get a good haircut or even feed herself.  I think she owes us all an apology.

So, before dinner with Jax, I called upon the presence of Randyboy again, who is officially my new favorite boy in the world.  We’ve hung out like, three times in less than a week which has got to be a record for me b/c I don’t even see my bestest buds more than once every two weeks or so.  Sooner or later, he’s totally gonna catch onto my Evil Plan to have him relocated while I assume his identity.  But ahhh, what a fun identity it is.  I met him afterwork — the boy is hella lucky, his job is right outside that kickass, new H&M on 34th — and Starbucks housed our nonsense for about an hour, then we unleashed our mischeif upon the streets before finally causing a big, ugly scene @ Urban Outfitters where, upon browsing some vintage shirts, Randy had a tragic cub-scouts flashback and completely flipped out, all Rainman-style.  He actually punched this random woman in the head.  Ok, no he didn’t but I told him he should.  Then he punched me in the head.  It’s ok, the hairwax I was rocking made his fist slide right across my head and into Leona Helmsley.  I think it set her jawline straight though, so it worked out in the end.  She didn’t even thank us though.  What an uberbitch.

Only I would have the dumbluck to suddenly wake up @ 6am this morning.  Just BOUNCED UP, wide-awake and feeling good.  Kind of.   I felt an itch in the back of my throat, a sneezy feeling that I knew would bug me, so I popped an allergy pill and ate some breakfast.  Then I fell back asleep and woke up again @ 2pm.    Shit, half my day — GONE!  I threw on some clothes and ran to the Park across the street from my place.  There I RAN!  RAN FREE!  FREEEEEEEE LIKE THE WIND!  It was glorious!  Okay, not really.  It was actually pretty hot and I ended up coming right back home to shower and get dressed a little bit cuter for a Chinatown trip.

I bought The Truth About Cats & Dogs on DVD today.  Now I can enjoy Janeane Garofalo’s cynic underdog wit anytime I want.  Also, something about that phone-sex scene just makes me blush uncontrollably.

On the train ride downtown I bumed into a guy I knew from college.  A guy I really wasn’t friends with… okay, I sort of have always found him to be somewhat annoying as fuck.  Everyone did.  He’d dropped out after the first semester b/c he decided that he didn’t wanna be an actor, he wanted to pursue comedy instead.  But he didn’t really GO anywhere, he was always still hanging around campus and school buildings (which is just strange b/c it wasn’t an open campus so he must have hung onto his school ID or something).  e’s like, the human lizard boy.  Just slimy and sleazy and always climbing all over people.  Rusty saw me first and for a minute I didn’t even notice him (I was deeply involved in the Goo Goo Dolls song blasting on my mp3 player), but he just stood there grinning at me from ear to ear.  For a minute I wondered how long I could ignore him, but I eventually turned around and said, “Um, hi there.”  That was all it took.  From 175th Street to 59th Street, he staked his claim on the conversation and I was left defenseless, held hostage in a moment I could not get out of.  He rattled on and on about this and that and this person and that person and this project and OH MY GOD he would NOT shut the hell up.  As soon as we pulled into Columbus Circle I jumped to my feet and headed for the doors, spitting a quick, “Nice to see ya, man!” and darting out of the train… somehow though, he’d managed to slip me a flier for some show he’s doing this week at some dive bar in Jersey.  Um, yeah.  Not seeing that happening, but thanks.  [Are you totally appalled at my snobbery?  Guys, you have NO IDEA how much worse it gets.] 

Taking things back even more old school, I metup tonight with my sweet X-Roomie (circa spring/summer 2000), who escaped her Kansas City confinement for a week back in the city.  It was so so nice to see her again.  Of all my roommates in NYC history, she was my favorite one and probably the only person who I would take in off the street if she needed it.*  She was rocking a fresh tattoo (some really cool Celtic shit) and feeling extra happy, and her good mood just infected me.  Starbucks was twice as bright, Bend It Like Beckham was twice as shiny, and the fruit smoothies afterwards were twice as sweet.   We even made a pittstop @ Hudson to suprise Stefan, who was shafted this week with the overnight shift.  Stefan just got cast in a downtown play, which I missed last night due to *ahem* power failure, so I brought him a happy goodybag of treats and things to keep him occupied during his lonely and pathetic shift at the desk.  It was also sort of a “Sorry I Missed Your Show” gift but whatever.  He liked it.  X-Roomie and I headed back uptown, where we finished my leftovers and chopped her hair off.  Yes, chopped it off.  She looks extra cute now. 

So, rounding the night out (and b/c good things come in three’s), I met another familiar face on the train tonight.  I’m on the A with X-Roomie, headed for mi casa, when I spot a gorgeous brown girl walking toward us.  She’s looking at me, she’s got a sly smile on her face and for a minute I feel like I’m watching a clip from Foxy Brown.  Suddenly, I remember her — we’d played @ house party on Halloween and exchanged numbers but I’d never called her for some reason.  Yeah, I totally remembered her now.  I’d actually first met her towards the end of my final semester of college, when I was in all my glory and not yet affected by the cruel world.  Anyway, I flashed her my best killer smile and in my best mackdaddy voice I call, ”Heyyyy, Dawn…”  She smiled back and stood in front of me, “What’s up, boy?  Ain’t you a big star yet?” *hee!*  We chit-chatted really quick and she had to get off at the next stop, but not before looking back at me through the doors and instructing me to give her a call if I still had her number.  Ohhh I GOT your number, girl.    It was pretty damn cool, I felt like a mackdaddy.  Then I caught my reflection in the window, saw how bad my hair looked, and remembered that I often look 16 years old.  Reality is a rude bitch, man.  Ahhh, I doubt I’ll call her.  It’s way more fun to just think about it b/c @ least in my head? I get to make it happen exactly the way I want and with all the right music playing in the background.  Also, in my head? I get to have sex on the subway.  You can find me in da club…

* But sweetie? Don’t ask me, ok?  Come July 1st, that place is ALL MINE!

Today I celebrated Memorial Day with a whole lot of nothing.  It rained and I slept in late, had a big breakfast, got some groceries, and did me some walking around the hood.  I live in the Land of Dollar Stores yet had no cash on me, which was absolute torture.  All the cheap shit was just sitting on the shelves SCREAMING my name, BEGGING me to take it home (take a number, sweet cheeks!) so I had to hightail it outta there.  I came home and attacked my apartment with a vengeance.  I swept, I dusted, I vaccumed, I even bleach-scrubbed the bathroom.  I did this all on my own — no threatening notes from BJ needed — and when it was over, I saw that it was good.  And I rested. 

A sweet couple staying at the hotel totally made my shift yesterday.  They’d come up to me asking about where they could find good jazz and dinner in the city.  Rather than shrug and redirect them to Concierge, or play a fun joke and just sent their clueless asses up to Harlem, I just hopped online and pulled up some quick information on The Jazz Standard for the kind folks.  I bullshat some quick “Hey yeah, really hip, very trendy place” stuff and sent them off.  No skin off my nose.  Well, a few hours later, I’m standing around feeling useless and looking pretty @ the desk and the happy couple comes rushing up to me.  They’re elated.  They’re grinning.  They’re looking like they’d just gotten freaky in the cabride over.  “Chris, thank you so much for sending us there!  It was AMAZING!” they gushed.  ”Oh, well I’m glad to hear you enjo—” ”No!  We LOVED it!”  They stood @ the desk for the next 20 minutes and just chit-chatted with me about everything, and I have to say, it was the coolest 20 minutes of my day.  They were a May-December couple (he was robbing that cradle, man!) from Atlanta and just escaped to NYC for the weekend, hoping to hear some jazz and have good food.   They told me I had been so much fun to deal with during their stay and asked for my managers email address so they could write him to brag on me.  I jotted it down for them and then they asked for mine too so they could keep in touch.  Awww!  Totally made my night.  They were hella fun, I also enjoyed hearing all about their lives in the dirrrty south and then about their fun adventures in the hotel (they’d seen Jason Patric in our Bar and nearly shat themselves). 

Randyboy made a pittstop by my humble abode this drizzly eve on his way through Northern Manhattan.  Pizza was had, Zooloander was enjoyed, and then suddenly the lights went out!  Thank God I was in lesbian-mode and stocked up on vanilla candles last time I was @ Target, otherwise we would have had to light kerosine lamps and rock it out ya’ll, Little House On the Prairie-style.   We managed to keep ourselves entertained, though.  Randy had brought with him a yummy set of goodies and was totally willing to gimme some-some-some of this cinnabun.   Cozy night, man.

It was a day of leisure and I loved it.  Tomorrow is supposed to be gorgeous weather.  I’m thinking that I may have to rock out a new tanktop.

I just found out that indie-modrockers Ben Lee, Ben Kweller, and Ben Folds (my three favorite Ben’s in the whole angsty, brooding-but-melodic sadboy genre) have joined forces and become an official trio.  Fittingly, they’re The Bens, and they’re working on an album! 

I cannot tell you how excited I am about this!  Each of these guys have a song that is in heavy rotation on my mp3 player.  Each one of them sort of remind me of me at different stages in my life.  B.Folds’ music is about exactly the kind of stuff that I imagine myself dealing with in the next 5 years or so, sort of reflective and peaceful but still questioning myself and my choices; his song “Still Fighting It” (mp3) makes me wanna call my dad and tell him I love him ever single time I hear it..  And B.Lee’s shit is more of where I’m at now; his song “Cigarettes Will Kill You” (mp3) is the ultimate post-breakup tune for a guy who’s been jilted by someone who never appreciated him much — it’s um, the song that plays on my Journal page.  B.Kweller is honestly my favorite one b/c he sort of reminds me of myself @ 19, his song “Fallin‘” (mp3) is about being young and scared and moving forward in life, he wrote it when he was moving to New York City from Dallas.  Overidentify, much?    But yeah, they’re all amazing. 

Their album is supposed to come out sometime late this year.  They’re describing it as “a new wave/indie/progressive/pseudo-Knopfler potpourri.”  Sounds good to me.  I hear that they accompany each other while in concert on their Austrailian tour right now, which I know has gotta be so awesome to listen to.  Also, word has it that they just finished recording a cover of “Wicked Little Town” (mp3) from the Hedwig soundtrack — even better, it’s the Tommy Version (my favorite one)!  Could life be any more beautiful?  I think nay.

Though I want to officially state that I don’t really care or need any official approval (yeah right), I am proud to announce that SpriteboyWorld.com just got reviewed, and they like me, they really like me!   The cool kids over @ The Weblog Review never ended up hiring me to be a member of their Review Staff, but they did recently have two of their pluckiest writers give my little site a thorough and informative peer-to-peer once-over.  One of the reviews came back really fun and kudos-like enthusiastic, and the other one was… um, well it was LESS enthusiastic.  You can read it for yourself here.  Being the self-assertive litte saucebox that I am, you can sure as hell bet that I’ve got a little thing or two to say about the feedback.  I’ll go ahead and begin my retort right now.

Bluiser reviwed my site the quickest, so we’ll address her comments first.  Where oh where do we begin?  Oh, how about the part where she says I am contradictory?  Very astute observation there, honey, but um I have openly outted myself to be a Walking Contradiction on this here website about a million times.  It wasn’t so much that she said I seemed contradictory, it’s more of her reasons for this: b/c I at one point stated that i didn’t like my country’s involvement with this war, and then later I state that I am proud to be an American.  Well dammit, we oughtta just handcuff me next to the Dixie Chicks and toss me out in front of the firing squad then!  What an oxymoron I must be, b/c you know, it’s not like it’s understandable for me feel torn about a subject or anything.  Whatever, this was only a brief and minor point of hers and really, I guess I’m only getting what I deserve for being dumb enough to get even slightly political on the web.  Shit, I catch way more hell for my Ryan Seacrest-bashing anyway.  Note to self: never mention politics again!  After than letting us know (in the opening paragraph of her review, no less) that she finds most of my comments “personally offensive”, she then bestows a decription of Spriteboy that makes me sound like I’m Bart Simpson (what with my apparent overusage of the word “Yay” and my ever-present fixation on “boobs” — whaaa?).  Bluiser also mentioned that she didn’t really seem to get a clear feel for my personality through my journal, which actually suprised me b/c it seems pretty obvious (to me anyway) that anyone who goes on and on about the stuff I talk about is probably a mentally imbalanced, emotionally unstable young man with a DSL connection.  Isn’t that made clear?  What killed me the most wasn’t that she reduced me to a ignorant, shallow, materialistic ”aspiring actor” (cuz it’s kinda true and I actually DID appreciate her shout-out for my upcoming movie, Mission: Idiot) but that she summed up my site as “an average weblog.”  If there’s anything I loathe most, it’s being perceived to be an Average Joe.  The bulk of her remainding notes were greivences concerning the actual layout of my site as a whole, addressing the overall lack of professional sleekness and the lameass presence of cheap Photoshop image-editing (all legit and vaild points).   She gave my site a final ranking of 3 out of 5, which kinda translates to a C+.  I took the sum of her notes with a grain of salt b/c I read some of her other reviews and she sounds a bit pissy.  Also? judging from her reference to me as “an amiable bloke”, I am assuming she’s a Brit.  And we all know that the British, as a people, tend to be impassive, uptight, and really ugly.*  So she was probably just having a rough personal day.

Unlike most of the submitters @ TWR I was lucky enough to get reviewed twice!  I could not have gotten any more fortunate than getting the lovely and talented Velvet to follow-up Bluiser.  Velvet started her review off with, “Okay, I love this blog…” and it only got better from there.  Referring to me by my real name (Chris), then making mention of my Hudson-related madness, and nodding to both my rarely-seen FAQ & music pages, Velvet appeared to have actually read through different parts of my site (and not just glossed over it in a quick haste to get back to tea & crumpets).  She made helpful and upbeat suggestions as to some technical improvements I could make to my site layout, and then disregarded the critiques saying “but it doesn’t really matter because the blogs are so good.”  She called my writing “vigorous” and “engaging”, saying that it practically sparkles.    Gave me a ranking of 4!  I really dont have much else to add to this.  Velvet is clearly a beautiful, intelligent, and fun-loving gal with a spicy sense of humor and an appreciation for opiniated, neurotic wannabes.  We like her style and she is invited to come over and watch TV with us anytime she wants!

Ok, ok.  In all fairness, I foud both reviews to be very helpful and I’m lucky to have gotten them.  Technically, I don’t run a blog, I run a website.  A real blog is something like this, or this, or this.  A lot of them are edgier, prettier, and not as clunky as mine… but you know what? I like my site the way it is.  It’s simple and painless and easy to figure out (a lot like myself).  You can certainly believe that there will revisions, revamps, and upgrades as time goes on — I’ve already applied some of Bluiser’s suggestions!  Now, when you click for my latest jounral/rant/rave, you will be taken automatically to the most recent post.  And if you want to see the old entries, just click on the hyperlink at the top of the page to go to the main page of archives.  They’re only little tiny tweaks but it’s still progress.  In the meantime, the reviews are generating more traffic and that’s always a good thing.

Big Big Love to everybody who reads my site.  This whole thing really just started out as something I began keep myself amused while I rotted away at my mindless deskjob last year, but it’s turned into a semi-creative outlet that helps me vent, process, and remember my day-to-day experiences.  It’s fun.  Thanks for being interested in what goes on in my world, winners.

* Keep your hatemail, British ppl.  I’m only joking.

I metup with the adorabley funny boy Randy afterwork last night.  I’d had such a hellish shift –a bitchass guest actually complained about me to a manager, said I was “very nice and courteous but didn’t seem to have a single clue about anything.”  Um, fuck you.  I had enough of a clue not to try and walk around with a fucked up complexion and receding hairline, which is more than I can say for you, Mr. Never Heard of Clearasil But Definately Know About Hair Plugs.  Later on, a really cute girl was standing @ the desk talking to her friend and I overheard her say something about me.  I looked over and smiled slightly at her, she flashed me this gorgeous smile and whispered to her friend, “See, isn’t he beautiful?”  I perked right up!  She was calling me pretty!  I almost took a step closer to try and engage them in some witty conversation, and that’s when she mumbled, “Ugh, too bad he’s gay.”    Anyway, it’d been NUTS @ work all evening and I’d held up okay for the most part but was ready to get the hell outta that place by the time 1:30am rolled around.  Got a buzz from Randyboy, who was perusing the hood and wanted to play, so we hooked up around 2am — he was kind enough to wait patiently for me in the Lobby while I fought with Adolph about my schedule next week and then went to change outta my stuffy uniform.  When I finally saw him I practically tackled him.  I got to show him off to my coworker, which was fun, and then we left to find pizza.  I took him to The Bread Factory, a late-nite favorite of mine when I was working those damned overnight shifts.  We stuffed our skinny selves with junk and soda and chilled for a few hours until Paco, Pedro, and Pepito kicked us out for good.  What do you do in midtown @ 3:30am?  Why, wander through outdoor corporate parks and public atrium lunch spaces, of course.  Lotta talking, shoving, and laughing.   Finally, I walked him through Times Sq. and saw him off to his train to Queens around 5am this morning (little bit of huggin’-n-lovin’ goodbye).   When I got home 20 minutes ago, there was a call from him on my cell, thanking me for hanging out cuz it’d been so much fun.   Awww.  What a guy.  I’m making him a mixed CD chock-full of wistful, desolate, emotionally-unstable sadboy music b/c he needs something to balance out his deep-rooted love for dykey, granola, Lillithy-chick tunes.  But that’s okay, we’re gonna work on that shit and get him all caught up on his popculture while we’re at it.    He’s a fun guy, we’re gonna enjoy him.  Also, his outgoing voicemail message is really cute (dare I say more so than mine?) and that just damn well deserves some r-e-s-p-e-c-t. 

I flove meeting new people.  Like, when you come across somebody who really stands out; who, when they talk, make you enjoy listening and appreciate that they’re sharing what’s on their mind.  Good people.  You don’t find too many of those these days… maybe some of it’ll rub off on me and I’ll learn to quit being such a brat all the time.  Ahhhh, maybe not.  B/c that wouldn’t be much fun for you all to read about, would it? 

Spriteboy World: 
Adventures of a Really Nice Guy Who Gets Along With Everyone. 

*shuddering*  Ugh, perish the thought.

Ok, fine.  I’ll say it: 
   2 cool
+ 2 be
   4 gotten

I overslept for work today and got there nearly a half hour late.  I was so freakin tired, I didn’t wake up till 4:30pm and was supposed to be @ the desk by 5pm.  To make things worse, I checked my voicemail as soon as I got up and there was a message from Adolph asking me to come in early.  So not only had I not gotten his message to come in early, but now I was calling in (just before my shift started) to let him know I’d be late.  SUCKS when shit like that happens and you just know that it’s not gonna make you look good, regardless of how seldom it happens.  I overslept once or twice when I was working @ the Bank and they really got pissed about it… things like are just BAD.  Doesn’t matter how stellar your performance has been until that point, when you miss an hour of a busy day? that’s what they all will remember.  They were okay when I got to Hudson, everyone was too busy trying to get through the sudden occupancy boost that they barely mentioned my tardiness.  But at the same time, I just felt awful.  Can’t let mess happen again.

There are about 8 movies I wanna go see.  Hearing lots about this, this, this, and that.  Ok I’ll admit it: I am semi-eager to see this too.  So many movies, so little paycheck to cover it all.

Brian McFayden, the uberloser of MTV, sashayed his little B-list self into the Hudson Bar tonight.  He brought with him a tall, leggy blonde girl and a spiky haired latin guy.  Watching him, you could FEEL the pride beaming from his ego as he sauntered past the velvet rope and into the main floor.  I stood there, observing from the desk, and wondered to myself what a fucking THRILL it would have been if the bouncer hadn’t known who the hell he was and denied him entrance.  Brian probably would have had to call a more popular MTV person who everyone knew, like Carson or Ashton, to get him into the bar.  He would have gotten in eventually, just like most of them do, but it would have taken longer and only been due to someone elses coolness.  Would’ve given me such a big happy.

So, I have the next 3 days off to relax and do whatever I want!  My head has been pounding with work-related issues all week and I can’t wait to just get away from the whole headache.  What will I do with my time, though… I’m thinking about possibly hopping one of those secret Chinatown buses and heading to Boston for the day.  That could be fun, just going all by myself and seeing what kind of mischeif I can get into.  I just hope the weather will permit it. 

The bipolar weather lately has gotten my poor weather pixie is so temperature-torn that it is making it excruciatingly difficult to get dressed each day.  One day it’s a light sweater, the next day it’s a pleather rain jacket, the following day it’s a tank top.  Poor little guy can’t keep looking hella cute under these ever-changing climate conditions, but lets applaud him for doing such a great job so far. 

Need to buy some more candles.  And do some laundry.  I don’t really remember the last time I washed my sheets and bedding, I should get that done too.  Ohh also I am thinking about buying a blender to make smoothies.  I’ve been having some good ones lately from the kitchen @ work and it just puts me in such a positive mode, there’s something very energizing about feeding off of the flavors, juices, and nutrients of natural fruits.  But I have to get a cheapass one b/c in case I never end up using it, I don’t want it to end up sitting there going to waste after costing me all that money… you know, like my gym membership?

Currently, I am shitting myself over news of this.  You have no idea.  This movie? a total classic in the life of me and mine, circa late mid-90’s.  I can pretty much recite the entire film word for word, from Lucas’ opening monologue to to Corey’s hysterical meltdown.  Seriously, Empire Records is my bitch.  Or I am its bitch, rather, for it owns me.  It is my lord and master.  And don’t even get me started on the soundtrack.  Where else can you find Better Than Ezra, The Cranberries, Toad the Wet Sprocket, and The Gin Blossoms all gelling on one LP?  We are going ALL kinds of alt-pop in this mother!    My only issue with the DVD they released a couple years ago (which i DO own) is that it didn’t have any extras or bonus features, not even commentary from the director.  This made no sense to me b/c most of the cast — other than Renee Zelwegger and Ethan Embry — superb as they were, were one-hit wonders and never really did much other shit worth seeing.  Come on, Johnny, Liv, Rory, Robin… what, you bitches are too good to come back and do a quick DVD commentary for the cult-legions of fans out there?  Don’t tell me you’re all too busy working on anything cuz we all know we ain’t seen ya’lls asses in anything for a few damn years.  Anyway, I have already placed my pre-order for one of the new, remixed DVD’s which come with 16 extra minutes and 4 deleted scenes.  Woo-hoo!