Spotted
July 25th, 2003I was spotted traversing across w59th Street the other day. Kicking across town, I was, when a young pretty thing chirped: “Hey! Spriteboy!” It was a brief, semi-jarring, yet fun exchange! I felt like a rockstar. 
The young pretty thing is actually casting an upcoming production of As You Like It and wants me to come in and read for something. Could be fun, but I’m not so much a Shakespeare fan. It’s just a degree of theater that I care not to touch — altho I’d play “Puck” in a heartbeat. I actually read for the part once, but nothing came of the audition and my ego was bruised and I decided that Shakespeare sucks anyway. But it was still sweet of the girl to offer.
Work was a breeze tonight. Despite being a bit pissy for a few hours due to an uncalled for and bogus accusation (“Why are you always on the Internet?!”) from my manager Johnson (b/c he’s kind of a dick), I had a pretty great night. We had SO MANY vacant and CLEAN rooms available! No one had to wait for 2 hours to check into their reservations! I wasn’t scared to ask anybody how they were enjoying their stay! It was like we had a hotel that worked! Wonderful!
I have disabled the mp3 downloading features of SpriteboyWorld.com. Things are just getting far too risky. Damn the man! I’ll still let you know what I’m listening to, though. Cuz I know how much everybody just sits around wondering what damn anthems I’m jamming to. Right right.
Oh, the always-adorable CurlyQNessa popped in to see me @ work tonight and she totally made me smile. I just looked past this bigass crowd of Bruce Weber models that had been annoying me (some of the dumbest ppl on earth, I tell you) and saw her cuteass self just standing there smiling @ me. Melted my frown away, I tell you. She’s like this little walking episode of Felicity, it’s just adorable. She is one of the latest friends of mine to defect from the lofty-but-distant surroundings of Washington Heights and relocate to the cramped-but-convenient Hell’s Kitchen. We’re gonna meetup @ K-Mart soon so she can help me pick out paint for my bland apartment walls.
Spent a good chunk of the later part of my evening @ home, just chatting the night away with my bud (who most of you know as) Bravo, star of the uber-popular weblog SignalShift.com. He’s a very cool tyke and the two of us spend far too much time chatting on AIM into the wee hours of the morning. Returning his backscratch, I must instruct all of ya’ll to give him a holler. His site is back up after a brief haitus, much to the joy of webloggers across the universe. If none of you read him, you gotta check him out from time to time b/c he’s got one of the most intimate and honest webjournals I’ve browsed… AND he gave me a sordid little shoutout* today — WE LIKE THAT! Also, he’s pretty damn easy on the eyes.
>Bravo
This scenester prettyboy is something of a Hudson regular so I’ll try and snap a shot of him next time he pops in to say whazahhhhhhh to his spritely friend @ the desk (when, in actuality, we really all know he’s just buttering me up so I’ll get him into the Hudson Bar)! Hee. Go check his site, tell him Spriteboy sent you. Oh, what a wonderful world of weblogs it is, winners.
Btw, is anybody having any trouble clicking into my site lately? I have gotten complaints that my splash page doesn’t link into the rest of my site, or to anywhere @ all. Then again, if you are reading this then I guess you’re not having any trouble clicking into my site and this doesn’t much apply to you, does it? Ok. Moving on.
One of the Bumble&Bumble people left a flower for me @ the front desk! I’d helped him earlier, him and this cuteass girl he was hanging with (his hag, I presume). They’d both been a little tipsy and were just chatting me up. I think the guy had forgotten what a bitch he was to me earlier when he checked into the hotel but whatever, I played nice and made banter for a bit — although I made sure to keep reminding them of the age gap, by constantly adressing them as sir and ma’am. Hee! Then I left the desk and went on break. When I came back there was a rose for me with a not-so-subtle note stuffed into the actual rosebud. Awwww… and ew. I’d like to take a quick minute to respond, if I may. Ahem:
Yes, Mr. B, I DO know what you’re room number is (bitch, I’m the one who checked you in, remember?), yes I DO know how adorable I am, no I DON’T plan to “thank you later in person” for the flower, and fyi? I’d have gone for your cute hag before I’d have done shit with you. I will, however, thank you for the cellophane wrapping that the flower came in though — it actually served as a pretty good umbrella on my way to the train. 
* And um yes, the rumors are so damn true.
Cover Me
July 24th, 2003A lot of people don’t feel that “cover versions” of songs are any good and hate them immediately, as a general rule. I am not one of these people. I freakin’ love covers! I sometimes actually wish I was an over-the-hill, has-been singer with a few old hit records, just so somebody could cover one of them and I could hear what it sounds like. How many times have I sung along to a song that i really love and played around with the phrasing and tone and harmonies (I’m a dork) and just found my own verson a little bit um… better? That’s essenitally what a cover is. Don’t look at me like I’m a fool, dorks. You know you all do it too.
Some of the covers I am currently loving
Oh, most awful cover ever made
Ok, I’m off to work. I spent the entire morning sorting my clean laundry out and baking more things. We now have 2 batches of muffins (blueberry and banana-nut) and a batch of fudge-walnut brownies. Move the hell over, Betty Crocker. Chef Boy-R-Sprite is in the hizzy.
Letting It Be
July 23rd, 2003What’s the deal with ppl who say “Leave me be”? How do you do that, how does one walk into a room and leave something be? Ugh. It’s one of those down-home, kickin’-back-on-the-front-porch terms that just make my skin crawl… and makes me giggle. I used to have this friend when I was little, Jacob, and his family always said things like that. If their littlest one, John-David, was streaking through the house, they’d tell their mom “Mom, he’s runnin’ around the house bare!” (hee! Bare!) and the mom would be like, “Ohh, just leave him be.” And this would just send me into a fit of giggles that I could not control. I remember thinking how funny it all sounded.
What the fuck is that? Leaving something be — is it any different than letting something be? If one were to say the wrong phrase, would it just send everything into chaos? It’s like, Hey guys, see that glass vase on the mantle over there? just make sure you leave it be, ok? No, no. Don’t LET it be, you have to LEAVE it be. What are you, trying to screw up the whole thing?!
I just don’t get it.
Singin’ In the Rain
July 23rd, 2003
Woo-hoo!
Last night I sat in my living room with no lights on (just candles), windows wide open, and listened to the rain. It was amazing. Ok, ok, I got bored and turned on some Daria after about 6 minutes but it was still pretty cool. I like when we get some really good thunderstorms like this, it just makes the day so much more exciting and dark.
I’ve got 4 loads of laundry tumbling around downstairs right now. Well, actually only 2 loads are down in the basement b/c only 2 machines work. So the other two loads are @ the laundromat across the street. Mutli-tasking, man. I actually got into a quick little spat with this girl who lives in my bldg. She fucking left her clothes in the washer for 30 minutes after they’d completed cycle so I kindly put them into the dryer for her (I even seperated the colors from the whites!). Then I came back about an hour later and she still hadn’t come back, and I needed the dryer. So I put all her shit into one dryer. Of course this is when she decides to come back — as I’m cramming all her thongs and bra’s into a dryer with her whites — and she totally gets the wrong idea. “Um, you could have at least waited for me to come get my own things!” she snapped. This is a person whom I have never met before in my life and that’s how she talks to me, a total stranger to lives in her bldg? What a rude little brat! So I put one of her pairs of thongs on my head and danced around the room like a ballerina, you know, just to embarass her even more. She didn’t like that. I guess you just can’t please some ppl.
I’m thinking maybe an evening with Randy & Mandy would suit me just fine. Let’s get it percolatin’ in this dancerie, dammit! 
In some humbling news, I am actually really liking that Daniel Bedingfield song “If You’re Not the One” (mp3) . Since my random exchanges with him I suddenly have been haunted by the song, my culture-deprived pal Pat down in the desertlands of Reno called me the other day blasting the song from his stereo and holding the cell up to the speaker, all, “I loooooooove this song!” And I must admit that I, too, now love this song. Yes, yes, after the big fuss I made over him semi-stalking me during his stay @ Hudson. I’m a big fat greek hypocrite, whatever. Bygones. The song is just too fucking sweet, I’m powerless to the part where he’s all “I miss you body and soul so strong that it takes my breath away….” *sigh* I AM NOT MADE OF STONE, PPL! I suggest you all go forth and purchase (download!!!) the single right now. Try not to let the fact that he wrote the song as a serenade to me taint its beauty and keep you from connecting to it. Oh, and make sure you go see this video. After all the hype I’ve been hearing, I had to check it out and it is indeed funny. I laughed so hard, the mannish cheerleaders are my favorite part.
I’ve gone through all of my 12 muffins like a big fat hog and will now take a stab at baking a cake. Or perhaps brownies. Keep your fingers crossed for me. Oh, and while you’re donating the use of your hands for my benfit? also put them together a few times (clap, you fool) in recognition of my having ignored the TV all afternoon. I normally wake up and turn it on, not necessarily WATCHING IT, but just leave it playing for some background noise while I do my thing. Instead, this morning I just decided to be productive and abstain from the use of electronic media… well you know, other than this computer.
Oh, and I’m glad it’s not just me who thinks it.
UPDATE: Ok, I have finished doing my 600lbs of laundry and I feel so damn proud of myself. There’s nothing like loads and loads of warm, fresh, clean clothes in your room that just make you feel like the most powerful person in the universe! I’m on top of the world looking down on creation… and now I have cute clothes to wear again! *happy sprite dance* Oh and btw, BJ, I did not appreciate those cat calls you screamed at me when I passed by your window coming back from the laundromat. No, I do not want some of what you got. No, I do not want to be plowed more times than your daddy’s acres of land. And no, I don’t have any fries that come with this shake, nor do I want to you to “bring the beef” if I “bring the buns”. I don’t want none of yo money, none of yo time. No scrubs, please. Thanks much.
How dare you, good sir, how DARE YOU. 
Sweet Treat
July 22nd, 2003
I came. I saw. I baked.
(and no, you cannot have one)
Happiness Costs 99 Cents
July 21st, 2003I was supposed to do all my laundry today, my day off. Um, I was going to. I got up and sorted all my clothes and got the roll of quarters and lugged the first bag down to the laundromat in the basement of my bldg… only to find the entire space covered in ripped up walls, sheetrock shambles, and sawdust. There wasn’t a sign or anything but I was pretty sure that it meant they’re renovating or something. It was 5:30pm, the laundromat across the street was still open but I’ve got like @ least 90 lbs of shit to lug around and I’d much rather just keep recycling old dirty clothes and spraying them down with some of my Axe Body Spray until my next day off on Wednesday. Procrastination is an evil and sad truth, winners.
I am currently toying with the idea of getting myself a pet fish, just b/c it’s a little bit lonely by myself in this apartment. I don’t figure it takes that much responsibility, and a fish wouldn’t really take up much space, just a small little glass bowl. I’m thinking of heading on down to Petco and getting one this week! Something colbat blue, I think, to go with the blueness of my apartment. We must follow a motif, right? I hear that goldfish are the worst b/c they get the water all dirty much faster than regular fish. We can’t be having that mess up in here, we’re looking for a self-reliant pet that will just sit there and look cute and not require me to maintain its existance.
Visited the dollar store around the block today and stocked up on some goodass 3-for-1 shit. Dollar stores are like little kisses from God, man. Soaps, toilet paper, plastic bowls, sponges, candles, laundry bags, extention cords, brooms, mini tool kits, whatever you want! And everything 99 cents! I just love it, it was a happy moment during my day. I’m just taking it easy now, watching a rerun of Curb Your Enthusiasm, checking some e‘s and eating some Bacon Bits. The weather is all cool and breezy outside, I have the windows wide open and the curtains are blowing around. Got me some Michael Jackson “Man In the Mirror” playing right now. This song has got some Holy Spirit on it, man! Makes me wanna march through the streets of New York and hug the homeless or something. I love it.
When I was coming back from the dollar store today I saw an old woman sitting on her building’s front steps feeding pigeons. It made me think of that “Feed the Birds” song from Mary Poppins. Remember that one? The children were in bed and Mary Poppins was tucking them in (after having drugged them with that cough syrup that changed colors and flavors) and sang them a song and showed them that snowglobe/crystal ball that projected images of that haggaard looking old homeless woman sitting in the gutter throwing rice at the birds. Yeah, really nice visual to give the children right before bedtime, Mary. Mary Poppins was a fucking lunatic, you guys. They should have locked her away in a padded cell for endangering the lives of minors. Lock her up right next to Willy Wonka with his freakyass, bipolar self.
I watched the Biography special on Oprah Winfrey last night, or The Oprah, as I like to call her. She’s a freakin billionare! What a life she’s had. I already knew she was pretty damn invincible, but I had no idea she was God. Wow. She’s totally one of my life role models now. (We’re being all kinds of sarcastic up in here, fyi).
By the way, just in case anybody missed it? that is indeed the term METROSEXUAL listed on Jim Mullen’s Hot Sheet @ No. 10 in the current issue of Entertainment Weekly. Apparently, the Hollywood masses are catching on and beginning to herald the latest breed of man in this here modern age — a declaration that I have been making since back in the day. When will this ship of fools start listening to the funny little man in the back row? Come on, ya’ll.
** Just taking a minute to send some love to my pal Kyle, who’s nursing some uglyass wounds right now. Keep your head up, boy wonder! You’ll be back to good soon enough. In the immortal words of the great and long-departed M People: movin’ on up, movin’ on up (nothing can stop us).
Workin’ It
July 20th, 2003Guess what, I may be working at the new, shiny, and uber-trendy Maritime Hotel soon. Not sure yet, it’s all just speculation and possibility at this point but strings are definately being pulled thanks to my favorite little powerhouse, Jax. We’ll see, we’ll see… More on this later.
Hey, I kinda got hit on! I was walking through the Columbus Circle Station tonight after work, just minding my business and rocking along to some Mick Jagger on my mp3 player (“God Gave Me Everything” is the damn anthem, man!). It’d been a longass day, so I was all kinds of ready to get the hell home and just chill in my place. I was about to slip through the turnstiles when i felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and it’s this guest from the hotel, a young French guy I’d checked in (and upgraded) earlier this weekend — really nice, kinda cute in a eurotrash way. I’d probably flirted with him some just b/c he’s from Paris and probably bi and that’s just what I do with all the guests anyway, but I couldn’t remember and it was late and I was sleepy. He said hi and we small talked and it was pretty boring… until I caught onto the fact that he wasn’t actually getting on the train. He’d apparently just spotted me crossing the street and darted down into the station after me to “uh, say hi”. Suddenly, this was all mildly amusing. “What’s up?” I prompted. “You going out?” He just sorta shuffled around with a slight smile on his lips. “Um, so I leave tomorrow…” “Oh yeah?” I replied. “Did you enjoy New York?” “Oh yes, I have friends here and they show me around. Very fun.” *awkward silence* “Thanks for the bigger room!” he blurted. “It’s very nice!” “Sure, no problem.” *more awkward pause* (he’s totally giving me the once-over at this point) “So…” I reach for my Metrocard. “Are you going…?” “Huh?” I asked. “Um, are you… this is the metro you take?” “Uh huh,” I nodded, humoring this French little poptart who was slyly attempting an indecent proposal. “Have you ridden the subway yet?” He nodded. “Cool. So, what are you doing now? Going back to the hotel?” “I don’t knoooooow,” he shrugged all sheepishly. “I’m leaving tomorrow…” “Uh-huh.” 
… I know where this is going and I am so not interested. “Well it was nice to meet you,” I announced as I began to walk away. He looked suddenly ALERT. “Oh! Yes! You too!” He extended his hand out and smiled brightly. It was really cute, actually. I couldn’t help it, I had to do it: I flashed a big smile right back and shook his hand. “Good night, then.” And I turned around and walked right through the turnstiles, cranking up the rest of my Mick Jagger, and walking with an extra little strut in my stride. Heh, nothing like some good, old fashioned, intercontinental human kindness (with a little bit of gay subtext) to make the world a better place. Spriteboy: uniting the nations, my friends.
I recently stumbled upon BlackTable.com and it’s quickly becoming an addiction. It’s perfect for ppl like me who want to know more about what’s going on in the world and in my lifetime, yet don’t really feel like watching the news to find out and would rather just catch it all in witty, snippety, blog-form. Cool site! Funny writers! I want to sit at THEIR table!
The ever-lovely Miss K threw her 25th b-day par-tay @ this kickass Bulgarian lounge in Chinatown on Friday, where they all just push the tables aside at some point in the night and just start dancing. It was hella fun! I raced down right after work (Randyboy in tow) to join the drunken, writhing masses and I just had a really good time. Saw some old friends, did some bumpin’ & grindin’, and Randy and I ended up crashing @ that amazing loft apartment again — it was just ONE BLOCK away from the club!!! I am telling you, I need to stop doing that b/c it really gets me spoiled and then I just hate the rest of my life once I have to leave. I need to be rich dammit! I need to be the one having amazing loft apartments in Tribeca! Who dropped the ball?! Somebody needs to recognize this shit and get me my inheritence, already. Fo shizzle my nizzle and whatnot.
I worked straight through this weekend and ohhhh am I glad it’s over. Tonight felt like an entire week’s worth of stress and madness all pushed into 8 hrs. Sucked. We’ve got them staying @ the hotel this week, they all checked in today and I was looking forward to banter with lots of edgy, trendy little fashionistas… no such luck. These are some of the bitchiest, ugliest ppl I think we’ve ever housed. What a letdown. Work has been such a headache lately. I don’t like working, it’d be so much better for my mental health if I didn’t have to do this whole employment, labor-in-exchange-for-money thing. I’d really love to just quit my job and run away to a tropical island with the Gyllenhaal’s or something.
Yes, btw, that is my babymomma in the new issue of Maxim. I know, she’s lookin’ a little malnourished and hungry. We’re working on this, ok? I’m making her a burger right now.
The Pitfalls of Piracy
July 19th, 2003BJ brought this to my attention. 
Ok, I’m a little scared now.
Do you think if I just pretend it’s not really happening that I’ll just manage to escape the danger and continue to pursue mp3 happiness?
I don’t like this, dammit.