Tonight I went to see On Golden Pond starring James Earl Jones and Leslie Uggams on Broadway. REALLY GOOD. They were so natural, it felt like we were simply observing 2 old folks kickin’ back and doing what they’d do whether we were there or not. The show was intimate and simple and touching and GOD I can’t believe I was sitting in a theater watching James Earl Jones (who, to me, will live on forever as Mufasa) and hearing that BOOMING voice of his in person. This was an all-black cast, which I think everyone is going to make a point of NOT commenting on so that it seems like we’re all so beyond racism that it doesn’t even get noticed, but most people know this story from the 80’s movie with Katherine Hepburn and Henry Fonda. I loved both versions, but it was just really cool to see the production laid out in a new way like this.

In other news, word has it that the mogul behind my livelihood is talking about dropping the axe and bowing out of the industry. This would mean new owners, new changes, and overall bad news for a lot of Ian Schrager Hotel bitches like me. Though we’re all being Officially Assured it’s a only rumor (yet forbidden to speak to the press), people @ work were NOT happy to see this on PageSix today… especially cuz this wouldn’t be the first time “the gossip pages” knew the truth before we did. I just hope my pimp in Harlem will take me back if I end up losing my Concierge gig. I seem to have found a niche in the service industry… hotels or backalleys, whatever. Service with a smile; I’ll stick to what I know.

James Earl Jones knows what I’m talking about. You think he doesn’t, but he does. Mufasa knows everything.

You guys I need some help. I can’t stop watching Felicity. It just started re-running again on cable and I’m hooked. All these oldschool thoughts and memories are being relived. Keri Russell is such a cutiepie, I don’t care what the haters say. Noel used to be thin. Meghan was more Marilyn Manson and less Avril Lavigne. Ben: the swagger, the squint, the sheepsih grin, the whispery voice that makes me turn the volume up and and yell “WHAT THE HELL DID HE JUST SAY?” Pink Ranger Julie is like, 14yrs old or something. God I hated her and that stupid voice. It’s Season 1 right now and we’re only 6 episodes in but oh god I’m getting so caught up in it all — and Javier hasn’t even come on yet.

I went to a party the other night @ Oyster Bar in Grand Central Terminal, one of my favorite places in New York. When I first moved here for school, I lived upstate in Westchester County and had to commute to Manhattan everyday via the Metro North trains, so I got to know Grand Central really well. I can’t tell you how many times I crashed on the lower level lounge chairs waiting for the 12:05 after I’d missed the 11:40. Me, flustered breathless and exhausted from the run across the main floor, but kind of relieved to know I’d get the late late train home and probably have a whole car to myself. I could plan my life by those train schedules. I hadn’t been down there in a really long time so it was kind of a sweet moment for me when I walked down the marble steps from the main concourse, stupid as that sounds. It felt good being there, seeing how everything looked, being reminded that it all keeps going with or without me. The party @ Oyster Bar was ok, just another Concierge thing… I don’t care how elegant the decor is, or even how good the fare is, there’s something about eating in a train station that just seems unsanitary. I’d love to have a big party there sometime, but on the upper level in one of the old grand ballrooms. You kids will all be invited, and everybody can bring whoever they want just as long as you all bring me a gift.

I recently met up with my former ex-friend and current ex-blogger Bravo. Wow did I just use the phrase “ex-friend”? Yes. Yes I did b/c sometimes I’m in junior high. Anyway, he metup with me the other night and looked really cute, all wispy and bespectacled. When I met that kid about 2 summers ago he was a high-octane Republican crashing with mom — teenage and preening, straight outta the closet and fresh off the Jersey Path Train, he eager and anxious and trying desperately to make sense of a lot of things in his life. Now I look at him and I see someone entirely different, a young man steadily transitioning into a new place — less anxious but just as driven, still exploring but certain of who he is and who he wants to be. We rarely get around to meeting up or catching each other on the phone but it’s nice when I see him, I like hearing about the changes in his life. Apparently his trifling ass outgrew the blogging thing (I’m still waiting for my own growth spurt in that department), but he says hi. A little hustler, that one — not a url to his name, yet still manages to fire up vivid and blurry libidos all over the web.

Come to think of it, I’ve been “re-realizing” a lot of people in my life lately. Remember my ex-roomate BJ? Yeah I hardly remember him either. But yeah, even he seems to be moving along in life. And it’s nice to see. Actually, I went to a cabaret the other night @ “Don’t Tell Mama’s” to see my friend Jess perform, and I got really weird halfway into her set. Not sure what hit me but I was sitting there in the dark watching her onstage and suddenly there were tears just streaming down my face. I’d seen her do shows before but maybe this time it was I was b/c , or maybe b/c she was singing such a beautiful song I overidentified with, or maybe it was just enjoying seeing my friend be amazing for awhile. She looked really good, she was funny, she hit every joke and I was just so proud of her. Watching how much she’s grown and changed since college made me feel good and made me wonder if I’ve done the same.

What’s up with me and this emo-nostalgia kick I’m on? My friends are so wonderful! Life is just beautiful! I love the world! Ugh, kill this blog already. Shoot it in the face.

So I’m home sick today on this beautiful picture perfect afternoon. Why can’t I be home sick on one of these gloomy wet gray-sky days that we keep getting? (Who is fucking with the weather machine, by the way? Rain, sleet, sunny days, sludge, thunderstorms — I can’t take this.) Anyway, there’s not much to do but sneeze, sip juice, and play online so that’s what I’m doing. Got a whole lot of nothing to do and I’m doing it all today. To show you all how serious I am about this, I’ve made a little rundown of all things nerdy that are currently keeping me endlessly amused… (and I really do get excited by these things, the depths of my nerdishness seem to know no bounds. No judgement, Kettles, cuz look @ you — you’re reading a BLOG).

The Fifth Element: 2-Disc Set, Ultimate Edition DVD. Just released! I saw this movie in 10th grade, the same night I saw Hackers (sneaky double featured it) and it’s just forever burned into my brain. The both of those movies shaped the way I pictured New York, and the way I sometimes still see the city and the people in it. The extra disc has SIX featurettes, costume/set construction, commentary, trivia factoids, and Milla Jovovich’s screen tests. How can you NOT need this?

Internet Porn. To qoute Arianna & Craig: “Abstainence is great — masterbate!
Safe sex is in your hands!”

“More More More” by Andrea True. Tell me am I right to think that there could be nothing better than playing this 70’s on loop? Nothing else makes me feel more like a roller disco porn star than this track blasting boombastic and fantastic over and over while I dance in my underwear around my apartment. Enjoy that visual.

** OK, two Mormon guys just buzzed my door and asked to come share a message with me. I don’t have the heart to be mean and snarky to people just trying to do some good, so told them I was busy painting. Then they (cute guys actually) offered to come in and help me paint while we chat. What? Mormon’s don’t play, ya’ll. Neither do I: I offered them gay sex straightup. (Ok not really but shit, I saw Latter Days. I know how this shit really works). Anyway, these two guys were apparently on their Mission and altho Mormonism (is that the right word?) isn’t a faith I follow, I’ve always respected the efforts they make. I’ve never seen a Mormon standing on the subway condemning folks. They just walk around wearing those proper little shortsleeve shirts with ties (ala Uncle Rico in Napoleon Dynamite) hoping to spread hope and good news. How the hell did they get into my building, anyway? Don’t I have high-security in the lobby or something? It’s like I’m getting SPAM at the front door now. Fucking Real World Julie sent them, I just know it. Fuck that shit, I was down with Melissa on that mess anyway. **

Overstock.com. Everything so fucking cheap and, thanks to the glory that is March Madness, shipping is only $1 this month. I found an old Abbot & Costello movie (Jack & the Beanstalk) on DVD that I used to know by heart from start to finish when I was six.

DVR from Time Warner. $9 a month, ya’ll. It’s the poor man’s TIVO. Do this and be cool, it’ll make it so nice when you hear ppl talking about how they forgot to set their VCR. It’s changing my life.

CallerTunes by Tmobile. Some people hate these and find them annoying, I happen to love them. You can select and customize the tones to whoever you want. The fact that my boss calls me from work and hears Sir Mix-a-Lot’s “Baby Got Back”? makes me so happy. The Unlimited Mobile-to-Mobile feature is also really cool and keeps me from tripling my bill every month.

COMP USA, even tho their customer service folks have taken the art of avoiding any actual customer interaction and perfected it down to a science. A method, really. These kids are some of the most antisocial salespeople in all of New York (not a small feat), they’ve got evasiveness oozing out of their eyeballs. I couldn’t get a red-polo’d fool to assist me for shit the other day. Fortunately, they had a ton of stuff on Clearance to compensate for the rude staff — I got 250GB hardrive for $80, man! Got some more memory and a DVD burning drive too. My computer is fitter happier and more productive, and thanks to the majesty that is Netflix (and DVD Shrink), I will never pay for a movie again.

Ok, that’s it for now. Not so much b/c I have run out of dumb things to be delighted by but more b/c this took effort and, shit man, I have a whole lot of nothing to catch up on. Later, peeps.

Last year today my heart got broken and softly handed back to me by somebody wonderful who got bored (tends to be a day you remember). I worried I’d always hate this day, and that as a relfex it would solely mean something sad. This year today my heart was warmed and caressed instead by somebody special who brought me flowers. I let today become something else, and to my suprise, learned that March 19th doesn’t have to mean just one something afterall.

Last time I mention it, winners. It’s just that some things are worth sappy shoutouts like this… cuz on occasion, when I’m not paying too much attention to all my subversive emotions? I sorta find myself being a pretty lucky guy. I think.

It’s St. Patrick’s Day! My dentist office is @ 57th & 5th ave so I caught the parade for a little while this afternoon. It was kinda fun actually, and I was wearing green so I felt like I belonged even though I’m only half Irish and don’t like potatoes, or drinking much, and I’m not Catholic. I do know all about poverty and famine (remember college, ya’ll?) so whatever.

A year ago this week, my world seemed to get shaken up some. Somebody special left the picture and I went away for awhile. A lot can change in a year, and a lot can’t change. I’m just lucky I’ve had the experiences I’ve had. I’m lucky to be healthy. I’m lucky to be half Irish… although being half Mexican definately adds some spice, but we’ll talk about that in May.

Riverdance, anyone?

Secretly overheard in the guys changing room @ work:

Bellman A: Bro, I had this dream the other night that you were gay and shit.
Bellman B: Oh my god. Why?
A: I don’t know, it wasn’t for a reason but you just were and you were sad b/c your boyfriend broke up with you.
B: That’s funny. If I had one he’d totally dump me quick cuz I’d never give him head.
A: I think if I was gay? I’d date somebody like Chris from Concierge.
B: Yeah, he seems like he’d be cool to date… if I was into that shit.
A: Whatever.
B: But yeah, whatever.

They left to go butchly carry heavy bags and be not into gayness, and I came out of the bathroom stall sporting a strut in my step for the rest of the day. Those guys have no idea cool I’d be to actually kick it with, boyfriend-style. I’d blow their worlds apart… if I was into that shit.

I noticed today that it’s changed. They’ve taken the cube away and now there’s nothing there now except for that fucking mini-shrine to the Time Warner Center uptown. Who can even afford to live there? You just know all those lofts are gonna get bought by some NYU trustfundie poseurs from the Upper Eastside just desperate to be “indie” (i.e. eat @ Dojo wearing vintage tee’s and converse) but unwilling to go harcore and actually earn their East Village cred (i.e. split an apartment with 6 other ppl). It’s obscene. I’ll miss the cube.

At least some folks are still keeping it real. Or is he actually one of the kids I was just ragging on? You never can tell anymore, dammit. (His punkass totally knew I was sneaking this picture of him, by the way — it was obvious from the slight smirk on his face and the way his silhouette just happened to align with the glowing pizza sign.) Work that halo, bitch.

UPDATED INFO:

via Gothamist

An upside to being a little man in a big world: $8 XL tee’s from the Little Boys section @ Target fit me like a glove. This is sort of cool and sort of sad.

It’s the little things in life, people.

So I’ve been weird about writing on this blog for awhile now, if that’s not obvious already by the lack of entries over the last few months. I have so many Drafted Entries saved that I never posted b/c well, I kinda deluded myself into this weird idea that b/c of all the drama I ended up blogging about last year, I should only post entries that are important and have some kind of emotional resonance. I had this feeling like I needed to share my ideas and feelings in a more significant and honest way, like if I went back to posting about work or dating or weird things I see or popcuture nonsense that it would kinda of take something genuine away from all the things I’ve been through. But then I realized something: this site a fucking BLOG, an insignifanct blip on the web radar only good for my own amusement and the occassional once-over from insomniacs and bored 9-to-5er’s. Yes I’ve undergone some profound changes but my life is not a morbid/bittersweet episode of Six Feet Under (where the hell is that show, by the way?), it’s nowhere near as complex or well-casted. Life is random, as Apple tells me (yes, I got an iPod shuffle! I fucking LOVE it) and it’s cool to pull bandaids off your bruises, quit gaurding the sutures that already healed and just get dirty again. Or better yet, get a new thing going — hence the new nip/tuck’d display. How obnoxious is that bigass picture of me looking like bootlegged Elijah Wood staring into the camera?

Big big love (once again) to my the ubervisionary Shan @ Blurbology.com for his techie websense and big gay fabulousness, and also for his numbchuck skills. (Napoleon Dynamite for life!) Shan’s is actually trekking up to my neck of the map soon and I cannot be more thrilled to host and show him just how we do here in Manhattan It’ll be his first time in New York — he’s a virgin! — and I’m excited to break him in! I don’t even plan to be gentle. Ew, sorry. Thanks, Shan.

In other news, I got a facial the other day. The technician (is that right word? I can’t bring myself to type the word Facialist, it’s just too L.A.) told me that owner VIP’d me b/c I send them so much business through work, so she pulled out all the stops. I trusted her. I trusted that bitch and she hurt me like hell. Before that day? I’d never had my nose waxed. Before that day? I never knew what real pain actually is. Meanwhile I’ve never breathed more free in my life, so whatever.