What's your poison?

Hacker-Pschorr is a brewery in Munich, and I must say- I'm a big fan. German and Belgian beers are my favorite, as you probably already know, and this brewery is no slouch. Plus, look at those amazing photos- don't you just want to hop a plane to Germany right now? I know I do.

Anyway, I'm hitting this spot up on Friday night for a lil' Dunkel Weisse action, and I'm pretty psyched. Hefeweizens, dunkel weizens- anything wheat, really, and I'm all about it. Add a little slice of lemon to that creamy head and you have yourself a lovely German treat.

With jimmies, please

me: I'm watching Queer Eye, Las Vegas. i had a donut this morning!
sister: it's in vegas?
me: i never eat donuts!
sister: yum. what kind?
me: dunkin donut
one with chocolate sprinkles
mmmmm
wow, that's a HOT elvis.
sister: niccccccce. a hot elvis? oh i thought that was the name of the donut
hahaha

re:re:re:fwd

Fred: my boss is notorious for sending emails with random ass subject titles, that have nothing to do with the actual emails content. I think I am gonna just start doing it back. Its cause she is too lazy to change the subject so she just hits forward on any email.
me: like what? The subject will be "hair" and the email is about picking up proofs?
Fred: yeah like the one I just got is FW: Help! Need Cherry Coke logo and copy, and the email is about a black history month id, and the freakin thing has all these random attachments too.
Me: ohhhh
Fred: I tell you my next email subject : Cocks, Pussies and Coffee pots
me: hhahahhaahahahah
Fred: and I am gonna attach random photos of astronauts, and be like, yeah I can I take a couple days off next week?
me: HAHAHAHAHAAH
Fred: no shit, I am gonna do it
me: i'm just imagining opening that
pictures of astronauts!
hahahahah
Fred: fuck this place, I am going to the strip club for lunch tomorrow

Word to your mom

In action....

Score Board

Boccismo! Vs. The Jerk Store- L
Boccismo! Vs. JTPB- W

We started off with a bit of a disappointing loss, although our opponents were sweet as pie. No trash talk was really necessary. However, the second game, which we FINALLY won by 1 point, was riddled with riddling- heyoooo! The drunker our opponents got, the more we wanted the game to be o.v.e.r. Thankfully, we pulled it out, and the season opener was not a total wash. Next week, we'll be uniformed and ready to take on the Daddios- a division of our favorite team on the league, the Slope Dads. It's going to be a tough game- they're pretty darn good, AND they're dads! What's not to love?

Back to the beat, y'all

Boccismo! starts its second season tonight, and BOY am I pumped. We are playing what I believe to be two new teams to the league, although I could be wrong. Either way, we're ready to DESTROY. We've ordered new outfits, which sadly have not arrived just yet, but stay tuned. Pics to follow.

Oh my sweet Carolina

From my favorite Weekly:

I answered an ad for a job as a data-entry clerk at a faith-based charity, but I stopped filling out the application when it said I could not work there unless I signed a "statement of faith," affirming that I had evangelical Christian beliefs. Isn't this religious discrimination? -- Janet Lama, Charlotte, N.C.

I haven't spent much time in the south, but one of the few places I've been was Raleigh, North Carolina. It was for my stepaunt's wedding, which featured a "pig pickin." The wedding celebration was in a single-story community center in a residential neighborhood. They set up the smoker in the front yard, and everyone pulled pork from the whole pig, like some kind of post-apocalyptic feeding frenzy, but with an abundance of delicious sauce.

At some point I got upset about something. I was in high school so I was probably mad that I wasn't allowed to listen to my Walkman during the wedding toasts, or whatever people in high school get mad about. I went outside to get away from "my fucking family who don't know anything about anything," and ended up sitting against a streetlamp across the street. A man came out of his house and asked what I was doing. I said that I was just sitting there. I told him that I had come outside to get some air, and pointed to the community center across the street. "Well," he said, "you better get back where you came from." I would like to say that I murdered this man and burned his house down, but I just straightened my tuxedo t-shirt, gave him the finger in my mind, and went back to the party to drown my anger in barbecue.

I guess my point is fuck North Carolina. Fuck evangelical Christians. Fuck data-entry clerks. Fuck filling out applications. Fuck "statements of faith." And obviously, fuck you. I'LL SIT WHEREVER I WANT, SOUTH.

Your Daily Brew

Let's keep it local, shall we? And yes, I have a thing for Brooklyn.
Today's featured brewery is none other than Brooklyn Brewery. I'm a fan of Brooklyn Brewery beers- you can find at least one or two on tap in almost every bar in New York, and as far as a "cheap" local beer goes, the beer is pretty good.
Last summer, Dan and I attempted to go on a tour of the brewery. It was a very hot July day, in an un-airconditioned joint, but the promise of free (or cheap) beer at the end of the tour drew us in. The tour itself is really nothing more than standing in the master brewing room, hearing about the history of the brewery, and a bit about prohibition. I began to feel quite warm during the tour, and all at once, the room started closing in on me. I looked at Dan with a chalk-white face and said, "I gotta get out of here." I don't know if it was the heat, or the excitement over the beer, but our time at the Brooklyn Brewery was cut short. Dan, being the lovely person that he is, promptly got me some water and sat with me while my stomach crept back down to it's natural place.
At any rate, my nearly-passing-out experience at the brewery didn't cast a shadow on my feelings for the beer. Happy hour at the brewery (every Friday) boasts $3 beers- normal prices for most places, but a steal here in New York. The Lager and the Brown Ale are probably the two most common offerings- I prefer the Lager myself. I've also had the Pumpkin Ale (it's OK), and the Oktoberfest (pretty good).
There are two brewmaster's reserve ales- I haven't had either one. One is the Blast, with is a strong pale ale (I'm not a fan, but my friend Alex would be in heaven), and the other is a Blond Bock (which I would probably really like).
MAN I sure do wish beer had fewer calories.

Beer beer beer beer beer beer

Due to some serious work "downtime", I've decided to start another THEME POST. Remember my Countdown to Thanksgiving? Yeah you do. You looked forward to my daily dishes; you KNOW you did. Well, I can't say that I'll be posting a beer favorite daily, as that would make me appear to have a drinking "problem", but I will say that I will share with you- my adoring fans- my favorite brews, breweries, styles, and maybe a waterin' hole or two. Y'READY?!!!??

I'd like to start with Sixpoint Craft Ales. Brewed in Brooklyn, Sixpoint is a relatively new brewery. Methinks it's only a little over a year old, but I could be wrong. To be perfectly honest, I've only had one Sixpoint brew, and that's the Sweet Action. It's an American Blonde Ale- similar to Magic Hat No. 9, but more hoppy. Smooth, rich, fruity finish. It's turned me on to Sixpoint, and I look forward to sampling more of what this brewery has to offer.

Hot Hot Hot

A few nights ago, I accompanied my good friend Ryan and his lady, Nikki, to an improv night at the Upright Citizens Brigade theater. Ryan is taking improv classes at UCB (you don't care that I'm telling everyone your business, do you Ryan?) For 5 bones (Monday-Thursday), you can see some pretty good comedy, improv, stetch- you name it. There are also free shows, so if you're a poor bastard like me, you can still get yo' laugh on.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaanyway, the hosts of Tuesday night's show were Hot Sauce, a hilarious trio of New York comedians, who all happen to be hot. Check 'em out. I have.

Gunn shy

OK, I know this is totally inappropriate, but 'tevs- Nathan Gunn is hot. I'm sitting here watching the Met's production of Die Zauberflöte on PBS, and he STILL looks hot, even though he's dressed as a bumbling bird man. (Papageno, for those who aren't familiar with the opera.) You know I don't date singers, but I'm not even gonna lie- I wouldn't say no. He's probably gay.
The fruits of his labor:



Dang.



Ummm, yeah.



Oookay. That's quite enough. I won't be able to sleep.

Coffeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

There are two beverages that tickle my fancy: coffee and beer. And by tickle my fancy, I mean just that- I like 'em fancy. I'm not talkin' pink umbrellas or lattefrappamochaspressochino- I'm talking good quality; I'm talking well-brewed.

Because I can't really tap a keg of the good stuff at my desk (anymore), I've started brewing my own coffee. Small coffee pot? No. Bodum French Press? Yes. I have good coffee sitting around the apartment, and I never make it because I hate taking a travel mug on the subway. So now, at my desk, I have my very own little breakfast beverage station- grinder, beans, press. Starbucks? Hell naw.

In the midst of life we are in death.

Sorry for the morose title, but after working a difficult funeral this morning, it's fitting. Working funerals is not in my current job description, but when the Dean needs a favor, one doesn't say no. I did not know the man who died- I've never even seen him. I didn't know anything about him, like the fact that he passed away very suddenly after a struggle with cancer, until this morning.
Funerals are tough regardless, but this one today was especially difficult for me. Not because I fear my own death- let's face it, I don't even know what I'm wearing tomorrow. Moreover, I fear the deaths of those around me- namely, my parents. Again, this may seem silly, as my parents are only in their early 60's, and are both quite active and healthy. However, the funeral today celebrated the life of a man who died at 62- my father's age. And his children, who all spoke at the service, are not much older than me. In addition, my mother was only a few years older than me when both of her parents were tragically killed in a car accident. I never met my maternal grandparents. Their untimely deaths were understandably very difficult on my mother, as my brother was just a toddler. She suffered from intense inner ear problems and dizzy spells. These symptoms began when she started cleaning out her parents' home. They didn't end for a year or 2.
As I listened to the seven speakers (it was quite a lengthy service), I couldn't help but picture myself at the podium, talking about my father. I became quite upset at several points during the service, and noticed that all 350 of the people in the congregation were also visibly upset. This man must have been one helluva guy.
I hope and pray that I do not have to stand at a funeral podium any time soon. I also hope and pray that every single person in that congregation gives thanks for the family and friends they have. I know I am.
I'm gonna call my Dad.

Daaaaaaaaa Bears

I love football. Yay Colts and GO BEARS!

Hebrew Honey

Looks like Britney and I finally have something in common.

FINALLY

It is snowing. Now, it's not much. In fact, I could hardly tell there was anything falling from the sky. And it hasn't hit SoHo yet. BUT STILL! I'm glad it's finally winter. Unlike most people, I'm not a fan of 70 degree weather in January. I thrive on seasons, and when New Mexico gets 10 ft. of snow, Texas has ice storms, but New York remains a balmy 63 degrees, there's a problem.

Cheers for flannel sheets and gloves.

Cocktails?

I wish I could take credit for these, but I didn't make them up. A friend of a friend who works at a pretty sweet restaurant has these ideas for some new cocktails:

Shits and Giggles:
prune juice and vodka with champagne on top

Fromagerie:
muddled bleu cheese with vodka, garnished with spray cheese around the rim of the glass

The Red Wing (my personal favorite):
a clam in the bottom of the glass, bloody mary mix and a cow's tounge suspended by a toothpick

The Silly Goose:
muddled foie gras with Gosling's rum

Oyster Pressee, also called Oysterade:
simple syrup, a juiced oyster and water

Superficial

Haaaaaaahahaha!

I guess I don't look THAT bad

It's always a relief to see a candid picture of oneself and realize you don't look as bad as you thought you did. In light of all the pizza, beer, and general football food I've been eating for the past few weeks, I don't look as huge as I thought I did. Still, my cardio time is about to double.

I've nothing terribly exciting to report. I spent the weekend watching football, playing bocce ball, doing laundry, and drinking beer. I didn't make the Liederkranz finals, despite singing the shit outta Mahler, but that's OK. I represented.

This post is lame. Sorry.

Shitstorm

Things happen in 3's- or in my case, 10's. I'm having a little pity party for myself, but you're not invited. Why? Cause it's totally lame. It's totally lame to be upset over things one cannot control. And I know that each and every one of you eight readers knows that just as well as I do.
Here's a list of things that suck:

-Doing a lot of auditions and being rejected from every single one (TOTALLY TOTALLY lame to be mad about this. It's the biz! I know that. But still, it kinda sucks)
-Boys. 'Nuff said.
-Money. Taxes are right around the corner, and I'm worried I haven't saved enough money. As a result, I'm broke.
-Other people's problems. Seriously- I'm the one who needs therapy now. I'm tired of being put in the middle.
-Dry skin.


So, like I said- I'm lame to the extreme and I totally know it, but once in a while, I get to have a little pity party for myself. I'll promptly get over it and be my regular old self again.

I don't get it

Accents, slang, and sayings are all colloquial to cities, towns, and states. Yinz, y'all, yous; they all mean the same thing. Even though people in California probably never say "yinz 'n 'at", when used in a sentence, Californians could figure out the meaning. Maybe. Although, they might be to busy surfing and dying their hair blonde, right Peter and Phong?

At any rate, one such colloquialism (and relatively new-found, I believe) that I just do not understand is the use of "on line". Here in New York, when one is standing in a queue, it's common to refer to waiting as "being on line." This makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. None. None at all. What's worse- people I know (NOT native New Yorkers), use this exact phrase! It's not correct, people...not even a little bit. Honestly, how can one be standing ON line. Unless there is an actual line drawn on the street, and waiting involves physically standing on said line, it's wrong.

I won tickets to the Daily Show (!!), and I received my confirmation email last night. Under the "Terms and Conditions", it says, "Your guests may meet you on line until 4:30pm. Past 4:31pm they will not be allowed to meet you on line."
!!!!!!!!!?????????????!!!!!!!!!!!
TWO uses of "on line" in ONE sentence????? In a published document? Dear God.

From now on, whenever anyone says "I can help the next on line", my response is going to be "thanks 'n 'at up unnereef 'er...goin dahntahn 'n see yinz later 'n 'at." Then they can look at me funny too.

Let the baby-havin' begin

I am pleased to announce that I'm pregnant.

Just kidding.

I'm actually pleased to announce that my cousin and his wife are the proud parents of a TEN POUND baby girl, born yesterday morning. She is the first of three important babies (at least, in my life) to arrive. Her name is Kira, and I'm sure she's a total doll. I bought her a little Puma track suit, to be worn when she's a little older, so she'll clearly be a hip, urban baby; much like my future nephew, and fake nephew. I bought both of them I (heart) NY onesies, to be followed by ridiculously expensive baby teeshirts and cute outerwear. My sister bought my future nephew a Ramones bib that says something like "gabba gabba eat", and we bought the future parents Brooklyn Industries diaper bags. No clowns or teddy bears there.

It is a bit strange, all of these people in my life becoming parents, when I'm a single woman who is renting an apartment in New York City. I don't even own a car anymore. My most prized posession is probably my computer... or boots. Alas, I'm perfectly fine with being a single renter. Besides, I'd much rather be able to give the screaming, crying kid back to mom and dad, on my way out the door to a scissor sisters concert.

akdjaskjdf;kj Arcade Fire laksjdlfjas;dfj

Tickets went on sale this morning for six NY Arcade Fire shows, and of course, all shows were sold out in a half hour. I didn't get tickets (honestly, because I forgot the sale started at 9 AM), and neither did any of my friends. In an attempt to keep up with the ridiculous craigslist ticket postings (do yourself a favor and read them), a few of my friends wrote in bogus entries. They go a lil something like this:

Who wants to marry an Arcade Fire ticket holder? - $1
Reply to: sale-258039565@craigslist.org
Date: 2007-01-05, 12:42PM EST


Here is your chance to score a ticket to February 15th's Arcade Fire show at Judson Memorial Church... and a husband.

How?

Send me your myspace profile (or equivalent,) pictures, etc along with a short explanation of why you deserve to be my wife and attend the Arcade Fire show.

We will be wed on the steps of Judson Memorial Church prior to the show.

Good luck!



AND

Re: Arcade Fire Tickets

Friends,

I will pay top dollar for any ticket to the February Arcade Fire shows at Judson Memorial Church. I will also pay hundreds of dollars each for any Arcade Fire ticket stubs from previous Arcade Fire shows. Additionally, I offer cash or trade for any items having to do with arcades (ski-ball machines, amusement park rides, boardwalks, tokens, etc.) or anything to do with fires (cigarette lighters, gasoline, Great White concert tapes, Backdraft movie posters, etc.). I can also pay you a small but generous fee to call my cell phone and say "Arcade Fire" to me when I answer or, for a slightly lesser but no less generous amount, text the words, "Arcade" or "Fire" to the same cell number.

Please help. I've never seen a band live before, not even on television. In fact, as far as I know, Arcade Fire and Great White are the only two bands out there.

Back to school

Today I am buying my German textbook for my upcoming class, and I am wondering- do I need pencils and a notebook too? Or should I just bring my computer to class? I'll probably opt for the notebook, which will make me look like a fossil, so I don't have to cart the computer around with me. Do people even take notes on paper anymore? Are pencils still manufactured? What's a folder?

Anyway, I'm not looking forward to dropping serious cash on a book- a book that I already own from the first time around the German track, but of course- this is a newer edition. AND it comes with an online practice thingie, so guess what I'll be doing all weekend. Apparently, the class will be conducted auf Deutsch, so ich must study.

To die by your side...

...well the pleasure, the privilege is mine. Folks, I am PUMPED because right now, on U92, it's "Smiths Hour". Seriously, what could make the morning better than an entire hour of Morrissey? Nothing. That's what. Nothing.

Recovery

I am a bit braindead from the debauchery and total relaxation of the last week, but I am now ready to be back in the city, to go back to work, and to get back into the swing of things. My New Year celebration in the boonies was fantastic. Really. We ate, drank, cooked, slept, watched football, maintained a constant buzz, played trivial pursuit, wanted to play balderdash, "jammed", ate pie at 5 in the morning, and had an amazingly good time. I could have used ONE more day, but alas- all good things must come to an end. Oh, and WVU ROCKED THE GATOR BOWL ONCE AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Such a good game.

We have cameras.


The real star of the weekend, and Boccismo!'s new mascot, Gianni Boccismo.


The dinner table.


Happy new year!


Fuckin right.


Mmmmdinner. Beef, beef, and more beef. Oh and salmon.


Oh Jerblett.


Gianni Bocc. Word.