oh the places i've been

The first Saturday night in a new place can be kinda daunting. There can be a great deal of ambiguous social pressure, as everyone else is going out (and in New York, you can hear them going at it). And if you are lucky enough to find plans, you run the risk of being "that new guy who doesn't know a soul and ends up pounding gin and tonics in the corner."
I lucked out, and was able to have a fun evening with a few people I already know. It started on the Lower East Side at Fat Baby, a great name for a bar, I think. I had heard that the LES had popped, and now I can safely say it has. It is not what it was, say, last year when I had a friend who lived on Ludlow. The scene I saw Saturday night was pretty fratty and involved a line around the block to get into a bar that used to be known for its laid back, hip charm. Any time you wander around a bar wondering if Miami Vice-style blazers are making a comeback, it's time to leave.
And so I did. The next stop was Sugarland in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, a recently-opened gay bar with a killer roof porch. The drinks were cheap and strong, the music was fun and a little unexpected (anytime Fleetwood Mac makes an appearance, I can't help but smile), and the guys were unpretentious, stylish and a fair bit grungy (which totally works for me). The night ended with pizza on a street corner with a group of friends. Hard to beat.

punctuation

So I just finished up the first week of my new job. I think it's going very well, and I can see myself being happy there for a long while. It's great to be surrounded by smart, articulate and friendly people at the office. Ugh, just listen to me. I'm so chipper, I almost used an exclamation mark. Last night, I celebrated with red wine and pizza, a sophisticated pairing. Good wine can make even the greasiest pizza feel like an elevated experience. Certainly above the standard pigging out.

I've also been packing like mad, readying myself for my big move today. The groan-inducing apartment search came to an end this week, and with winning results. I found a charming place in a killer location with a few cool-seeming roommates. The total New York experience will now begin, and yes, I am elated. Again, so much so that I almost used an exclamation mark.

A note on the exclamation mark anxiety. I had a creative writing professor in college (I say that as if it was so long ago, ha) who told us that every person gets five exclamation marks. Ever. "So make them count," he said. And I have. I find nothing more humorous than the glut of forceful enthusiasm that plagues a great deal of communication. Think of the self-congratulatory letters that flood mailboxes around the holidays. "Tom's team won the first game of the season! Then the second! And the third! Before we knew it, they won the state championship!"

According to the rule, that over-zealous sport fan only has one more exclamation mark to last a lifetime. Now I don't know how the karma works out, but when a person perpetually overuses the exclamation mark, aren't they lowering the bar for excitement in their lives? I don't know. I guess I'm more into smirking than gum-flaunting. But, again, I really am happy! That gives you a sense of scale. One down, four to go.

the next new thing

Tonight feels a bit like the night before the first day of school, as I start a new job tomorrow. It's exciting (I am actually excited), but of course I have those nerves that come with any new thing. There is a lot to process, but only one question lingers in my head: What if nobody wants to sit with me at lunch?

need apartment, will bake

the last movie i saw

I missed the Robert Rodriguez/Quentin Tarantino double bill Grindhouse when it was in theaters earlier this year. Life in LA seldom permitted me a three hour chunk of time to get lost in B-movie send-up splendor. The word of mouth was terrific, though the Weinsteins, true to their reincarnated form, bungled the release entirely. They seem to have done the same with the DVD release, giving us the Tarantino film Death Proof unencumbered by Rodriguez' zombie flick Planet Terror and in its extended, full feature form, which played at Cannes. The result is one of the strangest viewing experiences I've had in recent memory.

The flick, about a psycho killer stunt man who combines vehicular thrill-seeking and homicide, shouldn't be this long. There's the much talked about chase/fight scene, which pits fast-talking femmes against Kurt Russell's maniac, but outside of that exhilarating sequence, we get long chat scenes with mostly uninteresting characters spouting dialogue that sounds like an overzealous film student trying his hardest to sound like Tarantino. I dug the Austin, Texas locales, but I think I'd prefer the Reader's Digest version.

And that's the problem with the Weinsteins' DVD release plan. Planet Terror will be released on its own in mid-October. I don't know when the films will be released as they were in theaters (under the collective Grindhouse title). What's missing from the DVD is the full sticky-theater-floor, spilled popcorn feeling that the faux trailers, missing scenes and double bill created.

obligatory apartment search entry

I took the above picture of the iconic palm trees that line Hollywood Blvd. while walking home from a hike in Runyon Canyon sometime last year. I thought it appropriate to pair with this post because my Los Angeles apartment search was, simply put, heavenly. It was a Craig's List miracle. I coordinated the whole thing from Connecticut, and sealed the deal without leaving the living room. I lived in a studio apartment above a crazy lady's garage. The whole estate (which has since been carved into several properties) was designed in the 30s by the art director who did Mutiny on the Bounty. As such, the apartment had odd nautical design elements, including a porthole in the bathroom, above the toilet.
As awful as Los Angeles was as a whole, my living situation was (mostly) drama free. I will always recall it fondly, especially now as I traverse the New York real estate market with hair-tugging angst. I won't go into specifics, but it has been one disappointing near-miss after another. I hope to find something soon, as I start a new job in a week.
If you have been through this before, I appreciate all good will, advice, commiserating and connections.

the last movie i saw

When I first thought about starting a blog, I envisioned a screening log of sorts. I would chronicle the movies I saw, and through that include little anecdotes about my life as it happens. With bad lighting, I've decided to go broader with entries about whatever strikes me. I still want to include this feature, which will provide a brief musing on films (current and otherwise) as I see them.
It's Saturday morning (afternoon by now, but it still feels like morning) and fall is here. Crisp to the skin, fallen leaves, the smell of cold air, etc. I've missed this ... LA, as we all know, doesn't have seasons. And, actually, September is the hot month there; it's a lot like August everywhere else (read: gross and unforgiving). For years now, I have felt that Saturday morning movies are the best, the equivalent of great cartoons growing up (I remember loving Garfield, Muppet Babies and Pee-Wee's Playhouse which, though live-action, was certainly cartoon-ish).

So this morning, feeling nostalgic, I watched Back to the Future (1985, dir. Robert Zemekis), which is one of the great 80s pop movies. Since then Zemekis has gone on to be a hack-master of schlock (Forrest Gump fans should never read this blog), but this one is pure fun. As a kid, I always preferred the sequel, which finds Michael J. Fox thrust into the future, rife with flying cars, books without dust jackets and yet another Jaws sequel, this one with a hologram shark. The original sends Fox (at the hands of mad scientist Christopher Lloyd) flying back to the fifties to ensure that his parents will meet and fall in love. It's a solid concept, and the result is easily the best "80s slacker time-traveling comedy" (sorry Bill and Ted).

cookie monster

I've done quite a bit of baking lately. It's something about Connecticut, I think. Everyone picks up a Martha Stewart trait or two. Last week I did blueberry muffins, and yesterday chocolate chip cookies (left). They're healthy recipes, actually, that use whole wheat flour and other ingredient substitutions. In the muffins, for instance, I used yogurt instead of cream because they do the same thing chemically and yogurt is, obviously, way healthier.

that title means what?

First, a note on the title. There's that great line in Clueless when Cher laments a date gone awry, saying, "What, did I stumble into some bad lighting?" It's one of my favorite lines in any film, because it's so true to life. Sometimes, things are just out of our control. Bad lighting.