Check it out. Marc took this picture of me in front of Carrie Bradshaw’s home from Sex and the City. Apparently, her home was supposed to be on the Upper West Side (I don’t know the details), but the actual home they used is in the West Village which is Marc’s neighborhood. We happened to be walking down the street and Marc made me stand in front of the place. A bunch of Japanese girls were doing the same.
Close-up of the Highline
Can you believe it’s the three ever-bickering dorks altogether in NYC! I accosted someone to take our picture after brunch at the Cookshop. The food is over-rated there, people! What’s worse was me sitting in-between my two favorite gays as they got into a tiff during our meal. I had to mediate. Me! Mediate. I am an instigator. Mediation is not my forte!
The day that we took these pictures, Keith and I bubbled over to Broadway for the Book of Mormon. Afterwards, Keith and I packed on the pounds at the Shake Shack, then danced our Asian tushies off at the way gay Industry Bar until 2:30am. Then we continued onto the Pegu Club for more drinks. Wowsers, Keith and I are barrels of late night fun!
Just like old times. Marc and I woke up late around 11am, slowly got ready, then walked around the corner to the overflowing Cafe Cluny for brunch. We ordered bloodies at the bar while waiting for a table. Our drinks came in short, thin drink glasses–the single glasses that high-end restaurants put fresh-squeezed orange juice in. They’re tiny. That was our bloody mary for $12. My eyes bugged out. “In San Francisco, for $12 it comes with a couple jumbo shrimp and green beans that have been marinating in spices for weeks, and a tall ass stalk of celery.”
Marc added, “Yeah, seriously, and the $12 includes free refills.”
Came home and made it through an hour of the Adjustment Bureau before turning that off and watching Bridesmaids instead. So funny! Can’t believe I didn’t want to watch it before.
Finished the night drinking and stuffing our faces at Jeffreys: charred octopus, braised pork belly, steak tartare, and braised brisket sandwiches.
Everyone has been raving about the musical Book of Mormon. I haven’t read any reviews, but winning the Tony for Best Musical should silence any criticism. Keith got us tickets for a Saturday night show. I tried not to get my hopes up; when something is overly-hyped, I tend to be disappointed. I wasn’t. I thought it was hilarious! I was laughing out loud constantly.
But was it the best musical ever? Umm, no. I think Memphis, last year’s Tony winner for Best Musical, had better music and dancing, and was better overall. Kudos to the South Park team for expanding beyond TV and bringing their talent to Broadway. I’m sure there are more great things to come and I’m looking forward to the next musical!
I also thought they did a great job of exposing religion’s faults (following the letter of the law), but also highlighting what’s beautiful about religion (helping your community).
Speaking of food, here’s a site Bradley tipped us onto—Savored.com. 30% discount applied to participating restaurants in major cities. Can’t believe I’ve never heard of it.
BlackBoardEats.com is another one. I’ve used that to score 30% off Mission Beach Cafe.
I’m sorta snobby when it comes to food. Or spoiled, mainly spoiled from the Bay Area which really does have the best cuisine in the world. Hands down!
I’m not going to go through my full list of places I’ve eaten. There are a lot of them. But here are the highlights.
Mary’s Fish Camp – lobster roll
Shake Shack – I die for the Shack-cago hot dog and the red velvet custard.
Recette – foie gras and pork belly
Spasso – stracciatella
ABC Kitchen – burger with jalapenos, sundae with salted caramel ice-cream
Momofuku is totally over-rated.
Squeaky clean from a nice hot shower, I got out of the bathroom yesterday and caught Marc snickering in front of my laptop. Here is what he had written as a draft post.
Although we have never consummated our love in the physical realm, I have often fantasized of Marc as my lover — a strong, verile, sometimes rough lover who can pleasure me both vaginally and anally with equal dexterity. He is my best friend, my confidant, my equal, my nemesis. He is also the man to whom Dean will always fail in comparison. Dean is not as witty, sharp-dressed, gregarious as Marc. Ok, so Dean may be straight
Whoops, I’ve been having so much fun I barely go online. It’s very refreshing to miss out on all the negative media! I think we need a break from warring politicos, the recession, and reality TV. Except that I’m addicted to Millionaire Matchmaker. She cracks me up! In one of the episodes, the matchmaker asked a girl with smears of makeup if she was a hooker! Love it. Frankly, if I had to pick one reality show to watch, it would be Millionaire Matchmaker. Ooh and Top Chef would be second.
Last week, I went to the NYC Ballet. I paid a fortune to see Paul McCartney’s first foray into creating the score for the ballet Ocean’s Kingdom. I’ve been, off and on, a season ticket holder to the SF Ballet and desperately have been wanting to watch the NYC Ballet. This was the perfect opportunity. The program started out with Ocean’s Kingdom which is new and contemporary, followed by a traditional Balanchine ballet the Union Jack.
What the NYC Ballet lacked in quality of dance, they made up for with costumes, set design, and theatrics. Ouch! I know that’s a harsh statement, but the SF ballerinas make the NYC ballerinas look like they’re in beginning ballet. Their moves were dull and simple. Sign me up to be a NYC ballerina because I could mimic everything they were doing.
The costumes for Ocean’s Kingdom were designed by Paul’s daughter Stella McCartney. Light and airy fabrics for the fairies. A dark and menacing look for the villains. They were gorgeous. The couple next to me, however, said that the arts critic for the NYTimes panned the ballet and called the costumes garish. I agree that McCartney’s ballet was an overall flop. The plot lacked substance and was so nauseatingly predictable. But I did enjoy the music and the costumes. The McCartney’s should press on. Practice makes perfect.
I’ll also note that the NYC Ballet program guide had full pages of donor names compared to poor little SF Ballet. I would urge ballet aficionados to watch an SF ballet, especially with my favorite principal dancer Yuan Yuan Tan. Catch her before she retires. There’s no one like her.
I think it’s sad that most people zone out when I talk about the arts. In New York, when I said I was going to the ballet, everyone asked where. Ummm, the Lincoln Center where it always is. Cmon people! When I talked about the galleries, it was like I was speaking in tongues. It’s not just a lack of interest by New Yorkers, this is an American epidemic. Travel is not just about seeing the sites like the Statue of Liberty or Times Square or ice-skating at Rockefeller Center. It ain’t the Golden Gate Bridge or Fisherman’s Wharf or dangling off of the Powell Street cable car. It’s the complete experience which includes local food and wine, the arts, theater, and the sites. Explore, enjoy, experience. Goodness, there is a whole world out there and it’s not about visiting the Eiffel Tower but also taking advantage of what your own locale has to offer. If you spent some time discovering, you will be delighted. Which is why I do not think San Francisco is boring! We have so many new gallery exhibits, a plethora of cutting-edge modern dance, theater beyond what’s playing at the Orpheum, and a shitload of food and wine festivals.
No I do not just take advantage of everything because I happen to be in NYC on vacation. I do that at home too.
Next time someone talks excitedly about a certain event, clue in, and venture out of your Netflix queue. Our own backyard is a vacation!
After having lunch with a friend at Mary’s Fish Camp–yummy, but expensive lobster roll–I trudged in the rain to the galleries in Chelsea. Unlike SF where you can freely snap shots of the art, photography isn’t allowed in NYC museums and exhibits. I snuck a few of these in when no one was looking. Most of the galleries are concentrated within a five block radius.
Gallery: David Zwirner
Artist: Yutaka Sone
Not sure which gallery or artist this one is. Sorry!
Obviously two illegal photographers I took at the Gagosian Gallery. Artist Roy Lichtenstein.
I ended the day at the Morgan Library which is now one of my top museums in the city. I was so impressed, gawking at the Gutenberg Bibles, manuscripts from Mozart and Beethoven, letters from Charles Dickens, a hand-written poem by Abraham Lincoln, and my favorite–Sylvia Plath’s illustrated poems from when she was a kid.