Rachel Hunter is not a movie star

Tonight, in an effort to escape all the Christmas music being piped into the gallery (I swear I heard three different versions of Frosty the Snowman in a row), I wandered on down to the Barnes and Noble on my break. I was half-looking for a book for my brother since Chanukah is not too far off. I didn't find one, but I did find a book on the best patisseries in Paris, which was infinitely more interesting to me anyway. But the best part came when I went to look at art books (since Brother has expressed a budding interest in art). So I walk past the photography section, noticing a man sitting against the wall whilst flipping through a book. I didn't think much of it until I went back to give the photography section a more serious perusal. And then I took note of what this guy was perusing: The New Erotic Photography. When he realized that I wasn't going anywhere her nervously slammed the book shut and stuffed it back onto the shelf and shuffled away, head hung low. Totally busted! It was awesome! And gross! And awesome!

And speaking of "awesome" check out this link of Vogue's favorite artists' holiday picks! I know I always take my holiday gift cues from Henri Matisse's great granddaughter.

http://www.style.com/vogue/mostwanted/120408/

Lessons in International Relations from the bar at the Buena Vista Cafe

The Buena Vista Cafe recently celebrated its 53rd anniversary, though this evening I heard a waiter tell two customers that the restaurant is over 100 years old. They claim that Irish Coffee was invented on the premises, and I find it very hard to believe that Irish Coffee is a mere 53 years old. I also find it hard to believe that only one person invented it. I think left to our own devices, we humans could easily figure out that Coffee+Whiskey=Things Are So Much Better Now in less than 30 minutes. So I really hope the Buena Vista gets its story straight sometime soon. Anyways, it's really touristy and I try not to go there too much.

But I did go there tonight, and I now have it on good authority that, no matter what you may hear, the British love us because we saved their asses and they owe us one. I picked up this tidbit from an English woman sitting three barstools to my left. But then she started talking about her trip to the Serengeti, and who wants to hear about that? Besides, by this point The Cranberries were playing on the overhead and I was transported away to my happy place. Which is 1995. And the only thing that shook me from my reverie was a Peter Cetera track to which I am rather partial.

Inspired by Liz Turner exclaiming, "Your lack of foresight is INCREDIBLE!"

If my older, wiser, more world-weary 22 year old self ran into my plucky 18 year old self right before she started her first year of college, I'd like to think that she'd hand 18 year old me a pair of tweezers and tell her to take care of her eyebrows, and also that she would give her a few hints and tips. These are the secrets to my success, folks; for me to be posting them in a blog like this is like letting you into one of those Rich Dad Poor Dad seminars, but for FREE. So pay attention.

-Leave the sewing kit at home. You'll soon discover that any holes in your clothing can be mended with a stapler until you're reunited with your sewing machine. You may think that this will look tacky, but no one is going to notice.

-Get off the mind-fuck drugs as soon as you can. And right after that, move as far away as possible from everyone you love. Actually you are going to do this anyway, and it's going to be awesome. But when you do it, don't worry so much about not talking to people/people forgetting you. Because you are great!

-There will come a time when you find more and more perfectly edible food in garbage cans, and you will be tempted to take it and eat it. I'm not saying don't do it, but it turns out that people generally frown upon that kind of behavior if you're not homeless, so use a little discretion. I know it seems a little counter-intuitive- you're a born scavenger! And no one's making fun of you for that sweet pair of badminton rackets you found in a dumpster, so I really do think you're onto something here. Just don't offer to share that found quesadilla with anyone. More for you anyway!

-Don't kiss anyone you've only known for fifteen minutes. Sometimes they're married!

-If you absolutely insist upon drinking a whole box of Franzia by yourself, make sure it's a red and not a white. Really. Even if you ignore all the other advice, take this part seriously. Really.

-When someone invites you home to meet their cats, chances are they probably don't have any. Okay, they really don't have any. But I think you should probably go home with them anyway because it makes for a really funny story later on.

-An empty can of beans is not an acceptable substitute for one of those windshield scraper thingies. And just because I don't know its proper name does not detract from its importance. Buy one. They're like 7 bucks and you're really not old enough for people to be making Cheap Jew jokes yet.

-You can use the foil from packs of cigarettes to spit your gum into.

-Don't feel bad about eating bacon. Also don't feel bad about eating French toast and bacon sandwiches.



Hindsight's a bitch.

Musings, Part II

An alternative plan follows:

Allow a friend to "kidnap" you, but then somehow wind up driving her to IKEA, Trader Joe's, and finally the Berkeley Marina (of "Ballad of Wilhelm Fink" fame) for a really lovely picnic, complete with strange Russian family nearby!

Musings

What to do when the sun is shining, it's 75 degrees, and you've just realized you have no fucking clue what you're doing with your life?

Buy a mini coconut cream tart and head to the park, duh.



Banana cream is also acceptable:



You may not be able to tell from this picture, but I feel (almost) 100% better.

The only youtube video I've been watching for 5 months

I can't watch more than three youtube videos in one sitting. I find it really exhausting. I don't know how people manage to find all the videos that they do, and I must commend them for their patience. So if you're ever wondering why I never counter your onslaught of youtube videos with my own finds, it's because, really, I've only been watching this:

This year's costume is "angsty receptionist"

My number one complaint about not being a child anymore, or aging in general, is the fact that trick-or-treating becomes less and less socially acceptable every year after 12 or so. All Halloweens after age 14, for me, have become more and lacklustre, hitting an All Time Low the year I was in Paris (and really, can you think of a people more opposed to strangers showing up and asking for things than the French?) So I hope that this year, now that I'm legal/in San Francisco, things will take a turn for the better. There's got to be free candy around here somewhere, right? Or at least a wealth of cookies

Things are off to a good start so far. Fall just got here. Seriously, like, two days ago. So there are plenty of leaves on the ground. And the modern rock station on the radio is devoting a chunk of its air time to (what they consider to be) Halloweenish bands- The Misfits, The Smashing Pumpkins (recent stuff though, without James or D'Arcy, laaaaaaaaaaame), and A.F.I. Though I don't get what's so scary about a scrawny pale dude wearing eyeliner shrieking like a woman. Or maybe I do. When did Davey Havok turn into the lovechild of Robert Smith and Jack Skelington?

Adding to the spook factor today was an awkward run-in I had with co-worker Patrick earlier this afternoon. A bit of prologue: Patrick is kindof a creeper. On with the run-in! I was coming downstairs to drop off a package and for some inexplicable reason he was just standing at the bottom of the stairs. And then we had a converstion that went something like this:

Pat: What are you dressing up as?
Me: Oh, uh...nothing
Pat: Oh come on, you can tell me...
Me: No, really. Nothing. Or I haven't decided yet.
Pat: Oh, so you're one of those people....

And later I received this e-mail:

RE: Popping downstairs for a moment, phones are on the floor
Patrick
Sent: Fri 10/31/2008 4:41 PM
To: Rachel


Pop goes the weas

From: Rachel Hunter
Sent: Friday, October 31, 2008 4:40 PM
To: Bernard; Sean; Sam; Carla; Patrick; Brittany; Sky; Kim; Ella; Jean
Subject: Popping downstairs for a moment, phones are on the floor


Rachel
Reception

WTF?
I know this probably comes across as one of those things that only seems weird to me, as any casual reader (both of them?) doesn't actually know or interact with Patrick on any sort of regular basis. Just imagine 5+ incidents like that, 3 times a week, for 3 months. Is it a little creepier now? Maybe? Or is my world just very limited right now?

Things I know about Gary

Today I learned that one of my co-workers speaks German when he actually started speaking German. Right there in the gallery!

The Trouble with Marshmallow Mateys

No green marshmallows!

TOP TEN THINGS I HATE ABOUT POPCORN

1. pieces of kernel get stuck in my teeth

2. sometimes the steam burns my face if I open the bag too hastily

3. I always choke on it

4. there's never enough butter

5. the popcorn setting on the microwave never pops it enough

6. it's not really that good

7. the sound it makes in the microwave scares me

8. it doesn't taste better when it's stale

9. it's too greasy

10. it's too expensive at the movie theatre