i'm at 8

i'll be honest.  saturday was such a fantastic day.  yes, i am a few days late, but today is the first day that i've done absolutely nothing.  i woke up grumpy - saturday - because the thought of an impending hurricane gives me some uncomfortable but seriously stupid memories, but thankfully, i was able to move myself, that is, mainly out of bed.

i've been taking these body reading classes and they have been amazing.  not a chance sorry that i'll give up my secrets here, but they have certainly made me more perceptive on so many facets and for that i am so beyond grateful because who doesn't want to be more in touch with this place we're living in otherwise known as the world.  that or crawl under a rock, i suppose, but i've always valued the more gregarious side of my social little self.

so, things i saw.

the sky over manhattan, the hurricane still churning some 200 miles away.  the Williamsburg Bridge.  i've seen this scene a million times, and it's still always so pretty looking down this kind of shady little alley, i really don't know exactly why.  Diner, i do believe the best place for hot cuisine sex in Williamsburg.  they write out the menu on your table or on a slip of cash register ticker tape - they can't keep a standard menu since everything is always being switched up since it's always so goshdarn freshy fresh.  there was duck fat donuts soaked in creme anglais with chunky sugar that shouted "i love you and only you" to your mouth buds, scottish eggs that positively made a chaise lounge out of the back of your throat, what's better than deep fried perfect prosciutto wrapping soft boiled balls, duck crepes that's duck confit mixed with sweet shredded crepes from the tables of mount olympus, sweet trout making out with bacon, and homemade salt and vinegar CHIPS that actually DISSOLVE on your tongue.

i'm not done.  i was so jubilant over brekkie that someone asked if it was my first time in restaurant, but look why can't one just be happy about life???  then there was the puppy that was really a big fat warm potato and the wall of red ivy art that i thought about stripping to take away for my All Hallow's Eve costume but the neighborhood residents would probably tar and feather me, the cutest ever grungy little gremlindog that i loved so much for its ugliness that it hurt and then lamb pizza for dinner.  actually, i love life so much it hurts.  actually, it hurts.    

this morning i ran into someone who knows someone i love.  at the body language reading class, we were asked to guess where Americans fell on the internationally recognized happiness scale of 1-10.  there were confident shouts of "three! four!" throughout the room, peckered with cynical scoffs, to which the instructor, who trains the secret service when not dealing with rooms-full of self-righteous depressed urbanite paranoics, replied congratulatory, "you are TRUE New Yorkers!" evidently, the average American takes his mass of sunshine at 7.5

no sesame

it used to be, for many a moon, that i was a vegetarian.  well, technically, a pescatarian, or whatever i was, it didn't matter, but i did spend a lot of time practicing and legitimately making looks of utter disgust coupled with condescending sneers at the losers around me who would tear into their steaks, burgers, birds and other bloody shit with nasty abandon.  gross.  not only were you just fat and seriously ugly, but you were going to die soon, that was pretty much the gist of it.

well, what can i say, life ebbs and flows.

for some reason, mainly because of bacon, i started eating meat again.  i can't get enough of it.  salads?  fuck that, do i look like a cow??  all these things being highly considered, i've realized rather quickly that just like the cattle in the pasture, one burger is far from being like another.  oh burgers, how i love thees, let me count the ways:

your juicy greasiness that leaves a delicious amino-acidy film in every crevasse of my mouth
your heft, as i hold you in my hand
THAT TASTE, you know the one
ketchup
ketchup
buns

i've decided i need to dwell on this.  don't be surprised if there's a post on burgers twice a day now; i mean, why not?

here's a burger i had w my gf Laura at Morgane, a newish French joint on Bedford that you think could do sexy a littler better than literal grease-juice running in rivulets down my plate.  how do you say "barf" en francais?  no amount of fromage bleu is going to cut the serious [lame] cheese factor on this one.  thumbs DOWN!!!!

not long thereafter, on the brighter side of things, Jack, aka "my building husband"slash"pension partner" as in we'll live off my pension whilst living on his island, traipsed across my threshold waltzing a pint of Steve's orgasmic i don't even care if that's cliche this is frozen salty sticky caramel sunshine from the land where everything is really good no simply amazing 1000 our of  scale of one to ten food no not sunshine that doesn't make sense it would melt it's inconceivable this taste oh my god ice cream.  and THAT'S what i'm going with.

value: EVERYTHING you save: NOTHING

i'm a total whore for Groupon.  it's embarrassing.  Subway sandwiches used to be my thing, but now i find myself waking up in the night in the throes of my early morning sleep disruptive disorder stress patterns checking out the latest must-must have deals on my smartphone.  i'm afraid to look at "My Groupons", the place where those deals are stashed lying in wait for their day in the sun.  what the F?!  did i really need $200 worth of framing from some place in Chelsea?  all the laser hair removal packages go without question, but the body-reading class taught by the former spy?  well, shit, that actually sounds super exciting, and i saved 80% on that deal, so lay off already.  the half-price tickets for live mystery theater on the LES?  don't you DARE tell me i didn't need that.  other items on the list include sheets, teeth whitener, a trip to Jamaica, acting classes, painting classes (BYOB!), belly dance classes, magazine subscriptions, mani-pedis, language learning aids, entrance to the Museum of Sex, massages, facials, and multiple, and i mean MUTLIPLE, half-off passes to the Russian Bath House on 10th Street where Zhenya, THE most muscled very tall Russian man in all of New York will spend an hour walking on my back at 78% off the regular, significantly more expensive price.  in a word, or two or three, Groupon has changed my life and i just happen to know that i am far far far from being alone.

now i hear they're going under.  what the fuck, and why can't all good things in life just mother-fucking last ALREADY??!