July 2007


Dear 10 or so people who sometimes read this,
I am on vacation in California, where I have been for about two weeks. Sorry for not writing. I am currently in a place I am not supposed to be typing this out. I know you’re unable to sleep at night without hearing about the stupid things I see and do.
When I get back to New York, I shall regale you with tales of my adventures here. I really love the West Coast guys. Let’s just say I need to talk about PT Cruisers, hostels, and Pee Wee Herman.
Love,
J.

The following story was too good not to share, but alas I personally did not see or hear it. The account given is from a dear friend who witnessed the entire spectacle with eyes agog and mouth agape. You’ll have to take our word for it.

Do you know Mr. Martinez? Anyone who lives in NYC has seen his commercial. It’s a very effective/gross non-smoking campaign which shows Mr. M, who had a tracheotomy at 39 because he rotted away his throat with cigs. He has a visible hole in his throat and speaks through one of those throat vibration gizmos.

My friend was at work, gazing out the window during his mindless tasks when he saw a man in a blue hawaiian shirt and head wrap approach the poster of Mr. Martinez and begin to have an animated conversation with it.

Now OBVIOUSLY this fellow is crazy. Talking to posters is just….not…what you do….when you have fully functional brain capacity.

So CM (that is what we’ll call Crazy Man) is talking with the poster of Mr. M, when he suddenly leans in and begins to make out with the poster!! And not just kissing (like that makes it any less fucking freaky) but MAKING OUT with Mr. M. Like 9 1/2 Weeks making out with Mr. M. Then CM suddenly pulls away and starts to talk, a little more urgently to the poster. Almost pleading with it. And just when you thought you’d seen it all, he goes in for the kill again, passionately sucking face with the poster of a face with no throat. I mean…..really?

My favorite part is when CM pulls away from the 2nd round of makey-outey time and begins to argue with Mr. Martinez. My friend could not hear the argument, but we imagine it was something like “You’re so two-dimensional” or “You gave me a paper cut, you whore.” Then CM just stormed away, leaving his poster lover in the dust. I guess the lesson learned is, if you are a TOTALLY NUTTERS crazy guy, don’t get into a relationship with a poster of a fellow who had a tracheotomy because you will just get hurt in the end.

This morning as we headed out the door, we saw a bunch of trailers and PAs mingling in the streets!! A SET!! How exciting! Even having lived in NYC for quite some time now, I still get pumped to think stuff is being filmed right here! So we quickly hustled over to see what the dilly was.

Could it be? At long last, maybe now I got to be in the background of a Law and Order episode?

Maybe Spielberg was shooting pick-ups for the new Indiana Jones movie?

We asked the peroxide blonde PA. She smiled somewhat sheepishly and said “We’re filming a Yoplait commercial.”

Wait, whaaaat?

A commercial for Yogurt? Clean, healthy, yummy yogurt? On one of the more filthy and piss-ridden streets in Manhattan?

Oh, the letdown.

I saw Timothy Busfield, star of such amazingly good TV shows as Thirtysomething, The West Wing, and Studio 60 (apparently IMDB says he also has directed a zillion episodes of these shows) on the 7 Train out to Queens yesterday. (I’m guessing he was headed to Silvercup Studios, where many New York based shows are filmed).

He was cool. I looked at him, and it must have registered on my face because he smiled at me. I smiled back. I love all the shows he’s been in! He knew I knew who he was. It was brilliant. Rock out TB. Rock out.

The past week has been kind of rough, with the whole rigamarole (that’s right) tangling with the consulate over clearing my UK Visa. The system was clearly invented by a deranged spider monkey. So that has left me in a constant bad mood, as well as stressed and anxious.

Thank goodness Big-Boned Latina Wolverine came along. She really made my week.

Yesterday I got caught in a huge rain storm. I was soaked and got on the bus dripping and cold and cranky. In behind me scoots a near 300 pound Latina lady. Not a big deal. I sit down and sort of lose myself in my own stupid thoughts when I hear her boast to her friend:

“Everyone in my family has it. It’s like, amazing. Our skin regenerates whenever we get hurt. Like, if I get a cut, it’ll be gone in a few days.”

All my bad feelings vanished as a huge grin spread across my face. I almost turned around to thank her. Because her absurd statement, painting herself as some kind of modern-day superhero with regenerative powers (WOLVERINE) was so loony, but said with such sincerity. I didn’t have to heart to tell her that EVERYONE on the goddamn bus can regrow new skin in a while. That’s why when I fell down on the sidewalk a few days ago I didn’t bleed to death.

Also Harry Potter is into kinky leather vests, as shown by this photo. I am beyond creeped out.

Having beautiful eyes only excuses so much.

Last night I saw Transformers for the 2nd time. It is seriously amazing. If you haven’t gone, what the heck are you reading this blog for?! Get thee to a multiplex!! Although as one reviewer said “In terms of Michael Bay films, it has better acting than Armaggeddon and is more historically accurate than Pearl Harbor” (which is not saying much) it has plenty of humor (Optimus Prime has a way with quips) and romance and of course BLOWING SHIT UP and it’s incredible. As a heterosexual female, I thought it was the coolest thing ever. Girls. Go. Take your boyfriends. Or don’t. It’s still great. My favorite is Bumblebee. It’s really just a love story between man and machine.

As we left the movie, we walked through the East Village, where we stumbled across the set for the new Katherine Heigl movie, 27 Dresses, some kind of charming, formulaic, wedding-themed romantic comedy. (I love Katherine Heigl, whatevs.) But we SAW her and James Marsden (they ran by us, she hopped into her trailer, and he stuck around outside). Now, for those of you saying “Who?” James Marsden is Cyclops in the X-Men movies, people!! Which is why I screamed “Cyclops!!” and he turned and smiled. He’s super cute. And short. But cute. Let’s focus on the cuteness.

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