February 29, 2004
Let's Call The Whole Thing Off
Sometimes, a divorce is a festive occasion. For me, it marks the end of a destructive period of my life and the beginning of a new phase of financial and personal freedom.
That's not to say that it isn't a painful event. My three-year separation allowed me to forget many of my old wounds, but the final showdown tore off some of those half-healed scabs. I can't deny that I'm still bleeding.
On the other hand, my official emancipation gives me new optimism. As much as I still love my ex-husband, I'm relieved to never have to see him again. A tangible threat has been neutralized, and already I feel safer and freer. And as much as I loved my mountain property, parting with it reduces my expenses. Overall, my life is significantly better!
My friends are the best. I invited everyone to the Orbit Room, possibly the only bar in the Lower Haight that isn't a gritty dive. Its atmosphere is classy and festive, and so were we! I was delighted to receive so many congratulations and compliments, and even more pleased to spend the occasion with all my favorite people. Below you see us carousing in honor of healthy life-choices:
This evening provided tremendous emotional refreshment to launch me into my optimistic new phase. Thanks to everyone who turned out and showed me such a great time!
February 29, 2004
Oscars at The Roxie
The Roxie's "Up The Oscars" party is my favorite way to watch that travesty of an awards ceremony. The Oscars are pretty lame, really. The truly innovative, well-crafted films usually get little or no mention, while the big-budget crapfests get lavished with little gold statues. I still haven't gotten over the year that Gladiator won Best Picture, despite its idiotic plot contrivances and insipid dialog. The only way to endure such disrespect for the cinematic arts is to get together with John, Lamont, and several hundred strangers to heckle the screen and throw popcorn around.
Still, the Oscars are important for the US movie industry. The winners score major clout, which amounts to funding for their next projects. Sofia Coppola was properly recognized for her original screenplay for Lost In Translation, and I hope that means she's well on her way to a prolific career. It's shame that Bill Murray didn't win Best Actor for his performance in that picture. It had all his usual wonderful silliness, but this time combined with a candidness that made this his most mature performance.
I did find it interesting that Johnny Depp was also nominated for Best Actor, for his Keith Richards-inspired role in Pirates of The Caribbean, a silly part in a silly movie. He's certainly graduated from generic pretty boy to become brilliant at creating and owning a character, much like Brad Pitt. Both have earned my respect. But Depp's Jack Sparrow character, while creatively and skillfully acted, lacked the depth I'd expect to actually warrant the award.
Other than Lost In Translation and my boyfriend Johnny Depp, I wasn't much interested in the nominees. Mainly, I like to acquire ideas about fashion and makeup from the gorgeous stars. Scarlett Johansson is wonderful to look at, and of course I'm gay for Uma Thurman. Looking at all the fancy ladies has inspired me to experiment with putting my hair in curlers. I'm sure I'll post more about that later!
February 25, 2004
Report on Neighborhood Indian Food
There used to be a Hahn's Hibachi on my stretch of Haight Street. I liked that place because they served an unagi plate—a huge slab of eel, barbecued and laid out on a bed of rice, warm and silky and mouth-watering.
Hahn's Hibachi disappeared two weeks ago and has been replaced with an Indian restaurant. There are now three Indian restaurants within half a block of Haight and Fillmore:
This place sucks, as you can tell by the fact that it's almost always empty. They must be funded by the Punjabi mafia or something, because they're definitely not doing much actual business. Lunch consists of a mediocre buffet. Dinner is also mediocre. The decor is shabby. Hopefully this place will go away and be replaced by something more useful.
This place rules, as you can tell by the hordes of hopeful diners waiting outside every evening. It's only open for dinner, which is priced comparably to Raja but is ten times more delicious. The ambiance is rich, the staff is attentive, and the wine selection is wonderful, including a very drinkable Indian champagne for only $15/bottle. It's a great place for a date or a special feast.
This is the new place that supplanted Hahn's, open for lunch and dinner. Today I tried it for the first time. The entrees are inexpensive at $5.99/each and absolutely delicious. They're served à la carte, so I ordered a gigantic slab of garlic naan for only $1.50, also very tasty. My only complaint is that the complimentary chai is bland and served in tacky styrofoam cups. Nevertheless, this place will be a handy new staple, as it's convenient and very economical.
There you have it. I'm hoping that Naan 'N' Chutney will offer delivery service in the future, making it faster and cheaper than my current delivery staple, Great India Restaurant.
February 22, 2004
This Is My New Life
Until this week, I've spent almost every weekend for the last three and a half years in the forest, where I was perfectly happy being cold, wet, filthy with mountain detritus, alternately serene and terrified, feathering my dusty little nest and cleansing myself in clean water and clean air. I'll miss those weekends!
But these weekends in The City aren't half bad. I can use them to do all kinds of good living!
February 16, 2004
Mattspotting
I took my visiting family to breakfast at Kate's Kitchen this morning. As we left, my brother pointed out that Matt Gonzalez had been sitting right behind me! Sure enough, there he was, slouching over his plate and looking distinctively frumpy, the only guy in the place wearing a suit.
Naturally, I was too chickenshit to speak to him. Next time I'll try to at least go over and smell him. Maybe he smells like Green Party.
February 12, 2004
Tempting Fate
Now I have only four keys: house key, office key, bicycle key, and "the key that may save my life", a key purported to unlock any standard police handcuffs.
I had five keys a minute ago. One of them hadn't been used in a really long time, so long that I couldn't remember what it was for.
I threw this key away.
On Tuesday morning, the garbage service will take it away and bury it.
I hope key really is superfluous! I hope I don't need it someday! Gah!
February 10, 2004
The Night Guard
I hate my night guard. I haven't worn it in years. It's a good thing it still fits, though, because I have to start wearing it again.
I've having problems with my jaw. It opens crookedly, or pops at the joint if I force it straight open. My teeth are wearing down, and they chip easily. My bedfellows inform me that I make an eerie sound at night that begins like fingernails on a chalkboard and ends in an alarming CRACK-POP! Yuck.
But I hate my night guard:
Are there any new developments in night guard technology that might encourage me? Any other night guard wearers have tips for making the wretched thing more palatable?
February 9, 2004
Terms of Service
There are some murmurs of concern and annoyance about the Terms of Service (TOS) of orkut.com, the latest craze in online social networking. Apparently you can make unreasonable demands on strangers, as long as it's in the context of a TOS. Thus, I have decided to make my own:
Smartacus.org Terms of Service
By reading this blog, you agree to kiss my ass. Should you fail to kiss my ass, or kiss my ass in an unsatisfactory manner, you agree to buy me this new bicycle.
All your comments belong to me. You agree not to boast about the cleverness of your comments to impress chicks. You agree that no one is impressed, except my cat, and let's face it, he's also impressed by small points of light projected onto surfaces, such as from a laser pointer or the reflection off the face of a wristwatch. By reading my blog, you concede that I am the cleverest person you know and that your dim-witted comments serve only to highlight my comparative brilliance.
You agree to feed me chocolate on demand, and the chocolate must be dark. Failure to feed me chocolate, or any attempt to feed me milk chocolate, will result in a blog entry dedicated to the diminutive and persistently floppy character of your penis, as well as your mom's disappointment therein and her subsequent appearance on several "black-on-white" porn sites, where I hear she was very pleased indeed.
I think that just about covers it for now. My lawyer may later amend these terms without notice, and any amendment will apply retroactively. Also, I could go for some of that chocolate right about now.
February 4, 2004
Mornings in The Bathroom
When I get out of the shower in the morning, this is what I do:
I do these things every time. It's the most consistent part of my morning routine. What are your daily ablutions like?
February 1, 2004
Return of The Movie Log
After I switched from Netflix to Greencine, I was left without a Movable Type plugin for inserting items from my rental history and queue into the side column. I know you've been dying to know which movies I've been renting. You've been lying awake, wondering whether I've seen any good space porn lately, or whether I can recommend a blaxploitation film to slake your unbearable thirst for afro-picks and bell-bottoms.
Wonder no more! Thanks to the helpful and talented Auros, my movie-rental activities can now be viewed here on the smartablog. Hooray!