Booze Cruz

Last night, a long-overdue reunion with Dennykwan, back in New York due to his blowing-up-in-a-good-way photography business. DK! DK! DEEEEEEEEEEE---KAY! (Pretending I was a Spartan). Aside from helping in the annihilation of xiao long bow, pan-fried pork dumpling, rice cake, and and chicken with chestnut in pot at Yeah Shanghai Deluxe, DK agreed to accompany Dan and I and others on a rather epic late-night Led Zeppelin cover band concert on a cruise around Manhattan.

I will post pictures once I steal them from DK.

It was epic. (See? LA must be seeping back into my brain. I've used neither "epic" nor "mysto" in like 10 months).

E-mails I Send To Work Friends For No Good Reason

Ok guys. This message is for all of us scrimping and saving to eke out our meager living and cover the rent at 326th and Homicide. Funds are scarce, you know? And maybe you've just moved and you're like, "Hot damn, I need some toothpaste, but I need that $3 for food, or Mace. Full tummy or nice breath? What should I do?"

WORRY NO LONGER. My boyfriend recently purchased a tube of Colgate Sparkling White in "Caribbean Cool: White Teeth with a Surge of Tropical Mint." Although I am unsure as to why my beloved gentleman friend fell sway to this particular marketing message, I AM sure that I really hate this flavor. It's mint with a hint of basement, and those of you who know me well* know that in the mornings, I need all the happiness I can get.

The thing is, "Caribbean Cool," while evoking nothing from Turks and Caicos, St. John's, or the USVI, isn't totally bad. I just don't like it, and you might! And I'm fairly certain at least some of you are cheap enough to go without toothpaste and my dad's a dentist and that's bad for you, and you could probably deal with something only mildly gross if it were free. So if you want it, come by my desk.

Love,
Meghan

****I got 3 takers.

Dream Date Royale

I've had a platonic crush on Mindy Kaling for a while. First, she wrote and co-starred in Matt and Ben, an off-Broadway show about Matt Damon and Ben Affleck writing Good Will Hunting. She played Ben. Second, she's a writer on The Office, and wrote the Dundies episode. Third, she plays Kelly on The Office and although I feel they go a little overboard with her annoyingness it's generally funny and of course I work with two people exactly like her. Also she has a blog devoted to random stuff she buys. A female comedy writer who acts like a girl and rhapsodizes over Mason Pearson hairbrushes? I feel like I could be friends with Mindy Kaling.



(Of course, that can never happen, because if I were to meet her and for some reason she found me cool and we started hanging out, I would never mention that I already knew her work and found her adorable, and then she'd Google herself, find this, discover the ruse, and it would be Because I Said So for girls. Also, she lives in Los Angeles. And is way more successful than I).

Anyway. I like her blog. We've been dark (not taping) lately and I've been kind of bored, so I read the whole thing the other day. She introduced me to Sriracha (also featured on Top Chef) and Kookaburra licorice and a bunch of clothes I can't afford, like---



---a tunic-length cashmere cardigan from Banana Republic in "Dream Date Royale." Says Mindy of this color name, while lavishing proper praise upon said tunic-length: "What a bunch of queerballs."

See why I like her?

Hooky

It isn't technically hooky, because I took a personal day, but at my job you have to beg to get off on Thanksgiving, so it feels that way. I just needed a day to mope, watch bad TV, wear sweatpants, and go to a ridiculously extravagant lunch with my roommate.



Hello, Jean-Georges lunch special. I think I love you.

The Obese

There is a giant line of people outside our building. (I'm at work. Yes it is Sunday).

They are all auditioning for The Biggest Loser.

They don't look fat enough, though. They just look overweight. How depressing would it be to be like, not only am I fat, I'm not fat enough, I fill no ideal body type.

FYI, TBL is looking for pairs. First choice: twins. Oh, and I hung out with* Derek Jeter last night! We went to a swishy club where they charge $14 for a house vodka drink and automatically add the tip without telling you! Dan was so POed. We had fun.


*near

Blech

I like the show Ugly Betty. I think it is clever and fresh and silly. My favorite character, Amanda, is a relentless social and professional climber who somehow rocks formal shorts, and delivered this truism:

"All I want is an office with a door I can shut when I want to take a nap."



Thank you, Amanda.


I say this because we are currently being bossed around by an intern who has taken our old manager's office, and I'd been planning to snooze there. I hate him.

Numbers Are Fun

Kind of an interesting article about The Number Game. You may remember it from American Pie 2 (shut up, I used to live with Alexis): ask someone how many people they've banged. If you've asked a dude, divide by 3. If you've asked a chick, multiply. Voila! Accuracy.

Personally, I think it's more of an addition-subtraction thing, but the mathematicians (who I'm thinking would give you 3, maybe 6) point out that for men and women to have substantially different averages (75% difference) for number of partners over a lifetime is logically impossible. "The prostitute effect," they say, is not enough.

I love the Times. It's like the Sulzbergers just check out for certain sections.

3 Years In 3 Days, Basically

What can I say? My grandmother died yesterday so I'm really Fing depressed. I'm not horribly upset yet; that'll come later, so for now I can share some amusing stories that will probably end up in a spec script, so do not steal them.

My Weekend: A Rundown

Friday

K. was in town but due to painkillers and whatnot drinking wasn't really in the cards, so I went to bed at 9:45. WOOOOOO.

Saturday

Went to the Met with some work friends, took lots of pictures to dilute my apparent yet fictional alcoholism as seen on Facebook, and then went to a house party on Long Island. Thought I was soooooo badass for staying up until 3:30, awaking at 6:30, and taking the 7:03 from Ronkonkoma to work Sunday.

Sunday

Braved arrest to cross 7th Avenue and the NYC Half-Marathon at 51st St. rather than walking up to 57th.

Marco: Is that someone wearing a page uniform? Like, not a page but just wearing something really similar?

Meghan: That's Jessio.

Marco: Shit, it is. Running across the race in a navy blue polyester suit bedecked with flair and no shoes.

Meghan: Crazy. Dude, I don't see a cop, RUN.

Marco: This is a terrible idea.

(Meghan and Marco run; Marco gets caught up in something with the police barriers).

Cop (holding Marco already): Miss! Miss! STOP RIGHT THERE!!!

(Meghan keeps running).

Cop (to Marco, who has stopped): I ought to throw you in the slamma!

Marco: Um... I have to go to work now.

WOW THAT WAS EXCITING. WHAT A CRAZY MORNING, I kept saying. INSANITY.

Then there was lots of chaos at work, because people seem to think that they can just not show up and seriously fuck up my day. People? I will cover for you if you have a family issue IF YOU PICK UP THE PHONE. No call = you better be dead.

Ten minutes after bitching about how certain people at work don't feel the need to tell anyone when they're having issues getting to work and get snippy when I ask rather blandly where they are, I get a call that my grandmother is probably going to die within hours, so can I get to a plane?

So an hour later I'm at LaGuardia (after having covered my ass at work. It's not that hard.)

(I am harping on this as a distraction).

I'm going to skip over the next part because it was very terrible but I'm glad I was there for it. So skipping to---

Monday

My lovely, wonderful grandmother joined Grandpa et al and I am glad she was able to leave us peacefully.

Aunt Cat Lady sent us to the funeral home to make arrangements after hiding anything we might like to take with us, although I will neither confirm nor deny that I found anything she'd hidden and moved it to a different hiding spot just to screw with her head.

At the funeral home, Mr. February learned that I work for Late Night (he did not learn of my peripheral role at Late Night) and asked if I'd ever heard of "Men of Mortuaries" and I am now owner of their 2007 calendar. Perhaps I could show the research team?

I am not making this up.

And now I'm home.

Funeral next week.

And I'm sure at some point I'll start sobbing, but for now I'm just going to bed.

Lessons

If you take muscle relaxants/painkillers at work you will, in the words of my high school drama teacher Mr. Pridham, "see Mars" and accidentally go way over your cut number at Conan and come veryvery close to having to take people's tickets away. Then you'll stumble home and pass out in front of Top Chef.





Way cheaper than a cruise missile though.

Vinny!

Dan left on his 10-day trip to Greece yesterday, but I don't care, because Vinny is here!



Vinny The Huggable Cambodian Fireball is a phenomenon that requires experience for belief. I only got to see him for a few minutes but it matters not. Who else can you inadvertently introduce to your friends and said friends actually send you emails 2 months later thanking you for it?