“Would it be too forward of me to ask if I can have breakfast at Tiffany’s tomorrow?” – Dan, to a girl named Tiffany

Yesterday was a day of firsts, so many firsts that I felt compelled to write about.  I had a fantastic interview at an off-Broadway theatre company downtown, where I actually scored point for being from Long Island.  Who knew that’d ever be something to shout over?  After I headed over to Batch, on West 10^th, to try their cupcakes – yes, I was weak and had a cupcake.  I bought the cupcake called “The Velvet” which you think would be Red Velvet but it wasn’t red cake, and it had a chocolate filled center.  But the cream cheese icing was very good!

On my way back to the B/C trains, I passed by a restaurant that I am now obsessed with called Sweetiepie.  I have no pictures because my phone had died, but believe me, it is a palace of Barbie pink, and fit for a princess (though I am no princess, Jason!).  The cushions are all bright magenta pink, the rest is white and the walls are lined with mirrors.  I talked to the manager for a while, and we might work something out for the back room for my birthday!  They have a huge $75 sundae that he said is perfect when you’re having a lot a party.  When I’m in the area again, I will take many pictures because this place is adorable.

Later at 4:30, I at long last took in a viewing of Rachel Getting Married with Lindsay.  My parents sent me their Optimum Online card which gets 2 free tickets to any movie at any Clearview Cinema on Tuesdays.  Anne Hathaway was great, as was Bill Irwin and the rest of the cast.  I have to take my hat off once again to the trailer editors.  They made this movie look like a humorous walk through the park to a lovely wedding at the end.  There was a lovely wedding towards the end, but the walk to get there was dramatic and overwhelming.  Hathaway, a drug addict and alcoholic just out of another stint in rehab, has a lot of pent-up aggression towards her family and likes to be in the spotlight at all times.  Maybe this was her real addiction, not the drugs and booze.  The camera work was shaky and hurt my eyes a bit, but aside from that, the movie was quite good.  It was definitely different from the standard film that Hollywood puts out nowadays (and certainly miles away from Saturday night’s Confessions of a Shopaholic).

We headed downtown to Alphabet City after to try Matilda’s, a very cute wine bar & restaurant on Avenue C and 11^th Street.  We passed two street fights in progress on our walk there, but once inside we were safe.  It was “Ladies Night” which meant free wine for women and half price on all other drinks.  We stuck to the wine!  We met Jay, the bartender, manager, actor, and Seth Rogen look-alike.  He served us up free bread chunks, tortilla chips, and guacamole.  It was all SO good.  Lindsay’s friend Erin, who lives next door and had recommended we go to Matilda’s, came by later with her adorable teacup Chihuahua.  Dan stopped by before going to his event around the corner.  Lindsay and I split a small pizza before saying goodbye to Jay and heading over to Louis 649 for free absinthe.

We walked three blocks to 9^th and Avenue B (street-fight free!) to the bar and the crowd was still small so we took seats at the bar and had lemon-ey absinthe induced cocktails mixed for us by a very cute bartender.  Within an hour, the bar was filled with absinthe-seeking bankers straight-from a hard day at the office, or in the case of a lawyer named Patrick, a hard day of meetings in Philadelphia.  Patrick was a very cute 28 year old lawyer who I chatted with for a while.  While Patrick was away from the bar, an adorable guy named Matt, came up to chat while he was getting drinks for his friends.  After 15 minutes, he said, “My friends are going to kill me; I have to get these drinks to them.  I’ll see you later?”  Sure, Matt.  A while later, Lindsay and Dan said, in unison, “We’ll save your seat, go see if you can find him!”  That’s what friends are for.  I went, and I found, and we chatted.  He took my number down in his cell and said he’d call me – I’m not holding my breath, but he was nice!  I had written my number down on a napkin to give to Matt, but somehow it found its way into the hands of Patrick, via Lindsay, who texted me later that night after I’d already gotten home (and who I’m still texting as of this morning).  Oops!

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caro:

poobah:

subjecttomeg:

Here’s a catless lolcat, because I am pissed, and I — like the BBQ — hate winter.

(via)

I don’t hate winter but this is hysterical.

This IS hysterical.

See, I think of face book as a commitment. If she friends me there, I’ll ignore her.

– Jason… boys are so weird.

iPod Privacy & Your Wandering Eyes

When you get on a train, anywhere in the city, you will no doubt see a dozen other people zoning out with their iPods/iPhones/iPod Nanos/iPod Clips/iPod Mini… well, you get the point.  Everyone, almost, has an iPod nowadays.  Have you ever tried to look at what someone else is listening to on their iPod?  Well, unless they are lost in a state of music euphoria, or have their eyes shut, they will, I assure you, see that you’re trying to sneak a peak at ther library of musical passion and tilt their iPod away or turn it over altogether.  You don’t believe me?  Go try it.

I can attest to this because subconsciously I do it, too.  If someones eyes might be wandering a bit too close to my personal space, there goes my iPod!  I tilt it almost instantly.  “Damn it!” I say to myself.  What’d I care if they know what I’m listening to?  Will it kill me?  Will it lead to a stalker?  That’s a bit of a self-centered assumption, don’t you think?  What does our music say about us, really?

Let’s see what my playlist says about me.

1. Adam’s Song (Blink 182)
2. Mr. Brightside (The Killers)
3. Everywhere (Michelle Branch)
4. Never Again (Kelly Clarkson)
5. You’re So Damn Hot (OK Go)
6. Beverly Hills (Weezer)
7. Ocean Avenue (Yellowcard)
8. Bittersweet Symphony (The Verve)
9. No One (Cold)
10. La La (Ashlee Simpson)
11. Bubble Toes (Jack Johnson)
12. Flathead (The Fratellis)
13. Do the Evolution (Pearl Jam)
14. Mad World (Gary Jules)
15. Lonely Day (System of a Down)
16. Just a Little Girl (Amy Studt)
17. Take Me Out (Franz Ferdinand)
18. The Kids Aren’t Alright (The Offspring)
19. We Won’t Get Fooled Again (The Who)
20. Hey Jude (The Beatles)
21. Pretty Fly (The Offspring)
22. Walking on the Sun (Smash Mouth)
23. Miami (Will Smith)
24. Wondering (Good Charlotte)
25. Stacy’s Mom (?)
26. Ants Marching (Dave Matthews Band)
27. Miss Independent (Kelly Clarkson)
28. Lightning Crashes (Live)
29. Iris (Goo Goo Dolls)
30. Time of Your Life (Green Day)

That sure is a random assortment of songs.  I have quite a few songs that could be considered “depressing” including “No One,” “Adam’s Song,” “Mad World,” and “Lonely Day."  That says depressed, lonely, and suicidal.  I am none of the above.  Okay, so my music says nothing about me so far.  Let’s keep going.

• Miss Independent – Feminist!
• Time of Your Life – I’ve had some good times in my life.
• Pretty Fly – I was a child of the 90’s.
• Miami – I’m definitely not a fan of Florida, though!

Which songs say that I’m a girl who wants a guy?  Wondering and Everything.

Looking at this list now, none of my music really says much of anything about me.  They were all just popular when I was growing up, or they make me think of a certain time in my life – and that makes me smile.  So what does our playlist really say about us?  According to the above analysis, absolutely nothing.  So why don’t we want people looking at what we’re listening to?  Maybe because it’s one of the last places in the digital world that we can truly retain our privacy.  It’s not monitored by the government, only by you.  Or we could be afraid of being judged.  If our music doesn’t directly reflect who we are, then strangers can make incorrect assumptions about us.  But is that really so scary?  I don’t think so, but maybe.  Though in a city this big (and this small!), the person sitting next to you on the A-train could be your next boss.

So maybe it’s best we "listen” carefully.

woodlandcreature:

Pink dolphins are real?! Lisa Frank fans, rejoice!

(via f**kyeahsharks : allthedetails)

A dolphin in my favorite color!!  (And oh my god, I hadn’t heard the name Lisa Frank in at least 12 years!)

A Week at the Theatre

In the past week I’ve seen two Broadway shows.  If you know me, you know this is nothing new to me.  I saw my first show went when I was seven years old, it was Cats.  Two Saturdays ago, I took my mother to Lincoln Center to see South Pacific – her favorite show since she was young (she was the only kid in her high school class of knife-fighters to bring in a cast recording, South Pacific, as an aid for a school project), and I’d snagged tickets for her for Christmas.

There were several understudies, but luckily at least TONY Award winner Kelli O’Hara was alive and well, and performing at the matinee that day.  The only production I’d seen of South Pacific was a community production when I was maybe 7 or 8, and though I’d never been a fan of the show itself, Lincoln Center’s production won seven TONY Awards in June, so I was excited to see it for that reason alone.  The overture (to quote Bob Martin, “a pu pu platter of tunes, if you will.”) was one of the longest I’ve ever heard.  The set is one of the most impressive parts of the show, and when the overture is maybe a minute in, the thrust of the stage comes in and reveals the entire orchestra.  When the overture is over, the conductor and orchestra stand up and take a bow.  Where else on Broadway can you see such a thing?

I enjoyed the show entirely and the cast, including understudies, were stellar, especially Ms. O’Hara.  Special mention must be made of Loretta Albes Sayre, who played a hilarious Bloody Mary and made her one of my favorite characters who I completely empathized with in the second act.

I will admit though that I was a bit disappointed with the end.  I saw “Primo Finale” in the Playbill and expected grandiose production value.  Instead I got a cast marching off stage and O’Hara walking back into the plantation to greet Emile and his children.  Curtain.  I guess I’m a product of today’s Broadway show – big, huge, glitzy finales.  The bigger, the better.

Despite the lack of finale, it was a great production that lived up to all of its hype.  A lovely way to spend an afternoon.

Being a former intern at The Broadway League has its perks.  One is administering surveys at randomly selected Broadway shows, getting paid to do it, and also being able to watch the show.  This past Friday night I spent a night at the Golden Theatre on 45^th Street taking in a performance of Avenue Q.  I had seen Q twice before, once with the original cast and once a year or two later.  Friday’s cast was, save for one, all new to me.  In comparison to the original cast this cast was equally as entertaining and enjoyable.

Special mention should be made of Christian Anderson, who despite several years in the show, is still just as brilliant and humorous to watch for a second time as he was the first as he juggles multiple roles with ease.

I have to mention also that I have not related to this show more than during this viewing.  Princeton (thanks!), a recent university graduate with a BA in English, doesn’t know what he’s doing with his life, he “thinks the hard part is over,” he doesn’t know what type of job he should be pursuing, etc.  As a recent university graduate myself facing some of those same problems, I find myself sometimes saying “I wish I could go back to college” because I wouldn’t have to worry about paying bills or rent – but then I snap out of it as I remember what college was like (basically an extension of high school, with more alcohol).  I empathize with Kate Monster as she gets hurt by Princeton; and I remembered that there is “life outside your apartment” as I remember when I was laid off and generally hide inside my apartment, job searching day after day.

The comical staples of the show such as “If You Were Gay,” and the oh-so-true “Everyone’s a Little Bit Racist” didn’t fail to disappoint either.  I was happy to see the show still getting such a positive response, with the audience rolling in the aisles with laughter still.  Though in the finale the “George Bush!… was only for now,” fell a bit flat, I think, due mainly to the actors’ nervousness with saying it.

If you’re in town and need to pick a show to see, I’d say “South Pacific” for the more traditional theatre goer; while you may want a to try a helping of “Avenue Q” if you’re looking for something a bit edgier, while still channeling your inner Sesame Street-fan.  Either way, you can’t loose!

From my cousin Iris:

The Four Agreements by Don Miquel Ruiz.

1. Be Impeccable With Your Word
“Speak with integrity. Say only what you mean. Avoid using the word to speak against yourself or to gossip about others. Use the power of your word in the direction of truth and love.”

2. Don’t Take Anything Personally
“Nothing others do is because of you. What others say and do is a projection of their own reality, their own dream. When you are immune to the opinions and actions of others, you won’t be the victim of needless suffering.”

3. Don’t Make Assumptions
“Find the courage to ask questions and to express what you really want. Communicate with others as clearly as you can to avoid misunderstandings, sadness, and drama. With just this one agreement, you can completely transform your life.”

4. Always Do Your Best
“Your best is going to change from moment to moment; it will be different when you are healthy as opposed to sick. Under any circumstance, simply do your best, and you will avoid self- judgment, self-abuse, and regret.”

Number 2 is my personal favorite.  It makes this whole situation slightly more bareable.

What’s My Age Again?

Thanks to Jason and Ben, for a fact that I’ve been over-looking was brought to my attention.  Jason said, “As someone who’s almost 30, I don’t take girls seriously who are younger than 26 or 27.  I just don’t."  Ben added, ”I’m 24 and I’m dating a 20 year old.  No, I don’t take it seriously, she’s 20!“

Wow.  I never thought age would be such a huge factor in dating.  I’ve been dating 30-somethings for a while now and we know how that’s worked out (even with the ones who think I’m at least 25 upon first meeting).  Maybe this is why.  But seriously, WHY?  If I’m interesting (supposedly), mature, motivated, and can hold a conversation… what does my age matter?  Honestly, please comment if you have an explanation.  I would like to know.

Why don’t I date someone my age, you ask, because they’re generally binge drinkers, unemployed or uninteresting, and have barely graduated, mentally, from their college years – years that I never fully embraced.  Maybe that’s my problem.  Maybe all the internships and jobs made me take myself too seriously.  I understand that was a sweeping generalization, but until I meet someone who changes my mind, well…  Shit.  I guess I deserve any sweeping generalization that comes my way now.  I’m a walking contradiction right now because I’m so outrageously confused.

I think, until I am old enough to be taken seriously by the guys I want to date, I should stop dating altogether.  Otherwise, it’s just going to be one let-down after another.

I got a text from a friend last night, who’s a tad older, much wiser, and often gives advice about my guy problems: ”Oy!  Ok just calm down/relax… he sounds crazy!  I think you have to start figuring out how to better hone your “crazy” meter and be a bit less “trusting.” Sorry you’re having a crap time.  I’m sending you positive vibes! Xo.“

Comments are welcomed, especially from men!

Dear Elisabeth Hasselback:

From The View yesterday, February 26th, Elisabeth Hasselback set women back another 60 years, as usual with this:

“Their bodies should be sacred!… What about their bodies?  We’re in this very sexual society right now okay so we’re supposed to at the same time say, ‘No it’s not a big deal if you’re having sex early; no, it’s not okay if you’re not honoring your own body, how are they supposed to honor their body then choose in a situation of a relationship sexually, so they choose to have sex, okay, so they’re giving themselves over earlier and earlier, we’re seeing the statistics, then they’re in a relationship where their body is also influenced by the man in a different way be it abuse or whatever, then, we’re not teaching them to honor their bodies.”

More or less, that’s a manuscript of what the conservative horror of a person (that should be moved to FoxNews as soon as possible) said regarding the Rhianna/Chris Brown abuse situation.  I’m sorry for the lack of proper grammar.  It’s almost impossible to insert grammar into that woman’s rants.  Thank you, Elisabeth, for negating any progress that the feminist movement has made in the past 40 years.  (I am, in fact, not a feminist.)

What’s been bolded of that manuscript is bothersome.  It’s always baffles me when women talk about young women (or girls) having sex.  Why, in sexual situations, is it always the woman “giving over her body”?  Why isn’t it the man?  By harping on the “giving over your body” point, I think women are classifying themselves as second class citizens.  Men and women are equal.  And when they come together to engage in sex, it’s also an act that is equal.

Also, since the invention of birth control, sex isn’t an act purely for the reasons of procreation.  I believe that when you have sex, you simply acting natural and, to quote The Rocky Horror Show, “giving yourself over to pleasure.”  There is nothing sinful about sex; nothing disgusting no matter what age you decide to engage in it, as long as it is your decision and yours alone.

When people, men and women alike, stop yelling at girls & women for “not honoring their bodies” simply because they are listening to their instincts and enjoying themselves (safely, of course), then, and only then, will men and women truly be equals.  In my opinion, at least.

I tweet, therefore I am.

I found this article on Tuesday and posted it to my Twitter, obviously, but I think it deserves a post here.  Thank you, Gawker. I agree.  Why do you need to know where I’m going for dinner?  You don’t.  By the way, follow @thatgirlallison.

I was baffeled because on the front page of the New York Times main section yesterday was this article about students using “stand-up desks” instead of traditional kinds with a chair.  I would not deem this news-worthy, or at least not front page of the New York Times-worthy.  This is proof that today’s youth needs to step away from the 24/7 stimulation they experience and read a book.

As for books, I found out yesterday at Emily Giffin’s fourth book, “Love the One You’re With,” comes out in paperback on April 21st!  I’m incredibly excited because I’ve read her other three books (Something Borrowed/Something Blue/Baby Proof) and I love getting lost in them.

I sent out an email to everyone in my industry that I know, saying that I was still job hunting and if they were looking for any help, and I got a phone call about 10 minutes later!  It was a producer that I met once through faculty at Pace.  She didn’t have anything full- or part-time but she said she needed some help yesterday and today, and she’d pay!  I picked up a couple of pairs of shoes yesterday and I thought, “I could totally be a personal assistant."  Running errands is a better time than sitting at a desk.  I wouldn’t want to be Devil Wears Prada-assisant style though.  I like having a life.

Tonight is a viewing of Requiem For a Dream at Jason’s.  I love this movie, he needs to see it now.  It’s beautifully shot and an extremely affective movie.  Every high school junior should be made to watch it, IMHO.