Saturday Night-Stalking, Cocktails, Robert?

So, we did our ’spa’ thing for hours on Sat. then shopped. My phone died so I wasn’t able to check my celeb crap all day.  Killed me But, I was pretty sure that Mr. Pattinson was already gone so it was tolerable.  AND, not being able to be reached by the Cling-Ons that I gave birth to was a major bonus.  Anyway, ended up back at the Not Soho and used my new $12 sketchy-bought-from-street-vendor charger.  Checked out radaronline (one of the 72 places I go for up-to-the-minute gossip) and I find out RPATTZ is STILL IN NYC.  Holy crap!  Time for scheming! LOL

We decide on Thai food (lower east side – called Sea I think??)…Not happy w/my outfit sadly. Grey mini dress (cute – Michael Stars bought thru RueLaLa — Bargain baby!) with tights and black shooties (shoe/booties)…it just wasn’t quite right…you know those times when you have things that are fine individually but just won’t work all together?…and since i was so frugal while shopping I had no other options…grumble…hair marginal…face flushed from saunas…eyes bloodshot from last night’s alcohol consumption and lack of sleep. I threw back THREE champagne cocktails (called Strawberry Mojos b/c of the yummy strawberry puree in them!) while dissecting my entree. Over dindin we discussed our potential destinations…I read that RPattz was possibly staying at the Bowery Hotel. They have a fun ‘lounge’ there so we decided to check it out after dinner.  Tried to come up with a code word in case we spotted him.  OHMYGODITSROBERTPATTINSON was really just not going to work, kwim?  Ash and Robin were coming up with terrible code words like ‘Sparkle’ and ‘Vampire’…jesus, may as well just say OHMYGODITSROBERTPATTINSON, kwim?

So, the Bowery Hotel…so cool.  Very cozy, shabby-chic…but British and hunt country too…make any sense? We walked right in…which, from what I have since read, is unusual b/c there are parts of it that are ‘hotel guests only’. Settle in for cocktails in the back bar area. Had my first of THREE champagnes. Only $22/glass, not bad right?! haha  Welcome to Manhattan, bitches!!  Sat in a comfy couch w/the girls and chilled. A Seth Green-looking guy came over to chat us up.  So cute and funny. He was drinking an absinthe cocktail and a coke and carried a Glen-something bottle of scotch. Set for the night, right? He seemed to like Ash and bonded w/her with the acting thing.  But, we dismissed him quickly…not there for the Seth Greens of the world, kwim? After about an hour, we realized my man wasn’t there.  Moved on to the next spot.

The B Bar…right across the street.  Hung out and had a yummy sangria.  Amazingly I was still able to stand up at this point. Moved onto a latte tho…Ash & Robin ordered triple espressos…with butter?  Seriously, the coffee came w/butter. Bartender thought it was white chocolate but she was very very wrong! lol  Quick comment on the bathroom there (after god-knows-how-many-drinks I was in there a number of times!)…it had an Attendant. I HATE that. I am fully capable of getting my own soap…and turning the water on…and getting a paper towel.  And, I don’t want to have to tip someone in the bathroom.  Do not want to linger in there..fumbling w/dollar bills, etc. It’s just uncomfortable.  And, you also don’t want to be the bitch who doesn’t tip…it’s just bad all around.

So, at this point, Robin and I decide we really liked the Bowery Hotel bar and want to go back. Ash thought it was pretentious. (for the record, it sort of was, but I liked it!) My lovely niece thinks going to a drag queen bar would be better. WTF??? Don’t get me wrong, I love drag queens. I have been to the Drag Queen races in DC. Sometimes, with a bad eyebrow dye job, I even LOOK like a drag queen. I am down with them. We manage to veto her (2 against 1 but she is a fiesty domineering bitch sometimes! lol and so so not kidding)…

Cue me semi-stumbling in the street and laughing and talking loudly about Rob.  Like, what would I do if I saw him? What would I say? Would I say anything? What if he really looks like a 23 year old baby?  Like, what if I see him and POOF my panties fly off?  What if I trip and fall and my tongue accidentally goes done his throat?   Don’t recall much more…other than me yelling the word VAGINA and cackling.  Repeatedly.

(have decided to make this into 2 posts b/c it’s gotten impossibly long!)

Sorry!  See Part II in a bit, okay????

Weekend Attire – 24 year old edition

So, I have detailed what I wore. Jeans/cute top…dress/heels…Robin had similar stuff on.  But she is 5′10′ and all legs (“I can’t find jeans that are long enough!” b*tch!) and big boobs and glam. I looked like Troll Whore Barbie next to her.

Anyway, Miss Ashley wore leggings all weekend.  Leggings and shooties.  Leggings and boots.

Ash wore a cute top instead of the sweater

Day/night.  Different ones, thank God.  But, leggings nonetheless.  I have weird ’80s flashbacks w/leggings. Make me want to do BIG bad things to my bangs (and spray them with the rock hard Sebastian hair spray – the smell of that stuff brings me way back)

Not from my yearbook but oh-so-close

and put bright blue eyeliner inside the rims of my eyes and clump on the matching mascara. Gorg!

Kath, be happy that I couldn't find that classic blue mascara pic of us

 

Leggings also make me think of Tina and Hope. “What are you wearing?” “Leggings and a sweater!” “Cute but casual!”

Ash looks cute in them and most of the girlies in the under 30 crowd were wearing them with FMe pumps or shooties. Can’t pull the leggings look off anymore. And really don’t want to!!  Would feel like I was going to the gym (shudder! lol)…or make me all worried about having camel toe, kwim?  Oh, here’s a link to a ‘fix’ for the dreaded camel toe.  It’s called the ‘Cuchini’…it’ll be a lovely stocking stuffer this year, doncha think?

so, you were wondering what camel toe was?

Celeb Stalking/Paps/Etc

So, it may be pretty apparent by now that I have a minor, passing crush on a certain Robert Pattinson.  You may have heard of him…he was in this little indie flick called New Moon…just came out, perhaps you have heard of it?…and, it may have come across as if I was planning on stalking him in NYC…

Hmmm.  Maybe.  It wasn’t real stalking.  Just checked my gossip sites and twitter, etc. to see if he was anywhere in the city.

Sadly, despite my best efforts, I did not see him in NYC this past weekend. I did sense his British hotness in the air though. It’s part of our intense celeb-crazy fan connection. haha

BUT, after seeing this insanity while out shopping in Soho, I am starting to maybe question my stalker tendencies. Robin was with me at this point.  We were just leaving Topshop (loved it in there…so many funfunfun things that I will never buy!)…turn right…and see the strangest thing. About 30+ people, standing silently outside of the Madewell store. Staring into the windows…at a distance tho, not taking pix or storming the place. Just standing.  I asked one of the men with the gigantic cameras who was in the store and he said ‘Katie Holmes‘…we looked in the window for a sec then moved on.  A bit later, I saw her come out and saw all the flashbulbs.  Scene repeated when she went into Topshop. It was creepy…like watching golf…the crowd just moved to the next hole, in a manner of speaking.

Not that I don’t like Katie…but I wasn’t going to hang out and gawk if it wasn’t you-know-who.  But, the whole scene made me feel yucky. The poor girl was just shopping. What’s the big deal?? I cannot imagine being famous and having idiots follow me around and take pix while I do mundane everyday stuff. The price of fame? I don’t know.  Just seemed intrusive and awful.  Now don’t go thinking I am canceling my RPattz obsession.  I am just starting to get a twinge of guilt. Not growing a conscience for goodness sake!  ;-)

But, what if he *had* been the one they were waiting for?  Would I have stood there, staring?  I like to think that no, I would have walked away…grossed out by the circus. I hope so.

Don’t Hurt Yourself Now!

Katie Couric ‘cutting a rug’…made me snicker.

 

Don’t Hurt Yourself Now!

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Friday Nite in NYC, Baby

So, so much blogging from a 72 hr. visit, no??  Shows mama needs to get outta dodge, right? Can’t write if nothing ever happens in your life, right???  So, my point? Perhaps this weekend can be classified as a ‘business expense’? lol

Arrived at around 8pm on Friday night. Robin and I met Ashley in the Not Soho Hotel Bar. Quick pomegranate margarita and ‘get dressed for night out’ frenzy.  It reminded me of college.  Dumped out suitcases and shared clothing while listening to some Prince. No children or dogs anywhere to be found. Ahhhh.  I ended up wearing a cute gray sleeveless top with long knotted metal chain necklace that I got at the Nordie’s sale that I wasn’t even invited to with my Citizen’s “Kelly” jeans and gray platform peep toe shoe/booties!  Hair behaved. Face was okay. All in all, I was READY to go!

Poor Ashley was trying to accommodate 2 other women who kept saying ‘oh, we don’t really care where we go’ and then shot down her suggestions.  Like Pastis. Which is French. And not Bistro French. Fancy French.  Yes, I know about it b/c it’s in my magazines but sorry, no French food (sauces and fanciness. blech)…Nobu?  Sadly, no reservations (they say ‘fully committed’ which makes me smile)  We ended up at a Jennifer Aniston fav called Da Silvano.

this logo cracks me up!

Adorable. Italian. Intimate and cozy. Rob and I should totally go there sometime Had an interesting experience. Our waiter was immediately annoyed by us and gave us away to another waiter!  Wine list, all bottles. Someone Ashley asked for a sauvingnon blanc and the dude sneered and said ‘never heard of it’…we were all quietly like ‘WTF?’ and then realized we tried to get a French wine in an Italian restaurant. Hoenstly, it that a ‘thing’?? Whatever. I was about to ask if they had a nice White Zin and then caught the side eye ‘I cut a bitch’ look from Ashley! LOL  SO, when the wine came (something white and Italian, who knows?) we realized it was a different waiter!  Have never had one ‘quit’ before. And it wasn’t a case of one guy does the bevvies, another does food. The place is far too small for that. He just decided to hand us over to another guy.  Which ended up being good b/c the new guy looked like McDreamy’s Italian cousin.  He had the same hair (mmm), eyes, and nose.  And even that little sexy smirk thingy.  So, things worked out! lol  Good food. Cute waiter. Happy me.

Next stop?  A packed bar called ‘Employees Only’…so packed that we had to wait outside for a bit. My little New Yorker insider Ash was incredulous. Don’t they know who she is?? I felt like it must be b/c of me.  Straight out of Knocked Up. You know the scene and here’s the clip, one of my FAVS…trying to get into the bar and it’s the preggo (the dreaded and dreadful Katherine Heigl) and the older sister versus the warehouse guy on The Office:

Doorman: I know… you’re right. I’m so sorry, I fuckin’ hate this job. I don’t want to be the one to pass judgement, decide who gets in. Shit makes me sick to my stomach, I get the runs from the stress. It’s not cause you’re not hot, I would love to tap that ass. I would tear that ass up. I can’t let you in cause you’re old as fuck. For this club, you know, not for the earth.
Debbie: What?
Doorman: You old, she pregnant. Can’t have a bunch of old pregnant bitches running around. That’s crazy, I’m only allowed to let in five percent black people. He said that, that means if there’s 25 people here I get to let in one and a quarter black people. So I gotta hope there’s a black midget in the crowd.

Eventually got in…battled the bathroom line while Robin got the drinks. She and I got so-f*cking-strong-undrinkable tequila based cocktails (Ash had a blood red vodka thingy w/mint).  Ash also had to battle the tiny Indian/Pakinstani man who was dancing behind her, um, behind. Someone not me, not Robin dubbed him “Dr. Rajid’.  At one point, Robin and I were drunkenly trying to pour club soda into our drinks to make them drinkable and were pretty much just watering our shoes and the floor. Got some on Ashley…she picked up her leg to inspect and Dr. Rajid came over to touch it and said ‘your legging eezz ex-squeeze-it’…we died.

Had to escape from there. Ended up at 230 5th. Officially one of my favorite-bars-in-the-world.  Rooftop bar, looks out at the Empire State Building. Since it’s chilly, they have the heat lamps thingys AND…SNUGGIES. Well, hooded robes. All red.  We looked a bit like the folks in NEW MOON (you knew I had to mention it at some point, right?) in the festival scene in Volterra!  I was snug in my Snuggie, having a delicious Bellini…it was like a little slice of heaven, right there in Manhattan!  Here’s a pic of Robin and me…all cuddled. We look like luvahs.

If Ashley had been in this, it would have been perfect!

 

 

NYC – the Shopping

Ah, New York. So much shopping, so little time. So little money. Le sigh. The thing about shopping is that is can be fun even if you don’t purchase anything.  Especially in New York. On Saturday, after the pleasure and pain filled morning at the baths (tremble shudder moan squeal), we went shopping. Just a little.  Hoping for some sort of fab outfit that I could wear to stalk and capture Robert Pattinson. Since the baths took much more time than we planned, we decided to stick close to the hotel that was NOT in Soho and ended up at Century 21.  Have you heard of it? When Ashley mentioned it I was like ‘um, isn’t that a real estate company? the one wear they wear yellow jackets?’ Apparently not!  She described it as ‘TJ Maxx on crack’. A pretty apt description. They had Manolo Blahnik shoes for like 75% off.  Granted, they were the ugliest f*cking shoes I have ever seen but hey, they were a bargain! lol  So so so many shoes.  Everything from 9 West to the Manolos and in between. And that was just the shoe dept. Oh, and so so so so many (@$&)@ people. This place is not for the claustrophobic.

Browsed shoes. Looking for sky high f*ck me Robert pumps or over the knee boots. Practical stuff, kwim? Just wasn’t in the cards. Onto the clothes! Holy cow, so many clothes. Overwhelming. And a little skeevy. Just too many people, too many hands touching everything. Ick. I went back there on Sunday before I had to go to the train station and looked again. Sadly for me (and happily for the AmEx), NADA for me. But, I have high hopes for the next time I am up there. Which, please God, won’t be another 3-5 years.

On Sunday morning, Ashley left (Beer Fest in the Poconos – so cool – not) and Robin had a brunch date w/a girlfriend. That left me blissfully alone. ALONE. I spent several hours just walking thru Soho and parts of Chinatown ALONE. No one spoke to me. I spoke to no one. No one wanted a piece of me, kwim?  Funny, I spend years worried, consumed with fear of being alone for the rest of my life and now I CRAVE alone time. It’s just that rare.

Went to American Apparel (got a cute gray cotton jumper which I wore home on the train. Was almost like a nightgown but shorter and cuter!), Topshop…this place was COOL. Just opened.  It’s a UK store, filled with all kinds of merchandise that a boring suburban mom should not even glance at, let alone buy!  Love. LOVE. Expensive as hell. And so cool. Bought nothing. Shoegasm. Had to go in there, of course.  Madewell. Didn’t go in there b/c Katie Holmes was in there and the paparazzi had it surrounded. More on that later. Hit H&M right before the train. Wanted to see and HAVE a pair of the Jimmy Choo for H&M shoes. The only thing I said as much as ‘but more importantly, where is Robert Pattinson?’ was ‘I must have some CHOOS! I need those CHOOS!’ (please note that Choos sounds like Shoes. I found that quite funny. Robin and Ashley somehow grew tired of that. Bitches)

Look at the Choos! The fabulous Choos!

As you can imagine, this whole cheap Jimmy Choo thing was popular!  There were so few left. The first store we went into was sold out. The one near Penn Station had some.Not sure how clearly you can see the images above. I tried on the black stilettos (2nd image in, top row) and the zebra print ones (bottom row, on right). Le sigh. So so so sad. Weird european sizes. I was somewhere in between a 39 and a 40. The sizes made me feel fat somehow!  Anyway, couldn’t find a pair that fit. And, truth be told…they were so cheap. And awful. The leather was so stiff. I’m glad they didn’t fit b/c if they had fit, I would have been compelled to buy them. And suffer the consequences…the AmEx, the blisters. Not sure which would have been more painful??

The sum total of my weekend purchases? The American Apparel jumper ($30? maybe) and a pair of tights. The Frug is breathing a sigh of relief. AmEx is pissed.

Public Flogging OR a Day at the Russian Turkish Baths

Not sure how this even came up…over dinner on Friday night (Da Silvano – Jennifer Aniston goes there and now so do I), somehow bathhouses came up. Ashley had, of course, done this before…and Robin, the world traveler, had been to actual bathhouses in Russia AND Finland…I, ordinary boring stay-at-home mom from the suburbs, have not. So, we decided that we would go to the Russian & Turkish Baths on Saturday morning.

This place has been around since 1892. I think there may have been a Seinfeld episode based on this place. Very very very authentic and ‘old school’…it’s $30 admission…includes robes, ’shorts’, facilities, etc. It is NOT Elizabeth Arden. It is NOT for the shy or faint-hearted. Pretty much you are walking around half naked with a bunch of fat Russian men. And getting beaten.  I’ll get back to that in a minute!  We didn’t bring bathing suits which I would highly HIGHLY recommend. We wore these black robes, which had the unfortunate problem of exposing ’side boob’ when you least expected it…and underneath (and you are required to wear these on co-ed days – and naturally, we were there on a co-ed days – and you are grateful that it’s a requirement!) we wore this unisex gigantic shorts.

So, facilities…Russian Sauna…the hottest *&$@ sauna in the world, I swear.  It’s almost painful. And that’s before the beating! haha and not kidding. Ice cold pool. Again, painful. But in a good way. Turkish Room (steam room). Aromatherapy Room (also steamy). Swedish Shower. Sun Deck.  Back to the Russian Sauna…here’s the deets:

This authentic russian room is the highlight of every visit to the baths. The oven is filled with 20,000 lbs. of rock which are cooked overnight. During the day, these rocks give off an intense heat. This is one of the few rooms of its kind in the United States.

Surrounding a huge rock-walled furnace, women and men alike will be immersed in a hot, very steamy, stone furnaced “radiant heat”. When the heat starts to get unbearable, take one of the dozens of buckets around the room, fill it with ice cold water, and like the Russians hundreds of years before you have done, dump it over your head. Now don’t be self-conscious because as you will soon notice, everyone is dousing themselves with buckets of water. In that sheer moment as the ice-cold water pours over you, comes one of the most enjoyable moments you will ever experience. It is sheer delight. You can also request a traditional Russian Platza treatment.

This was the first room we walked into. It’s so so so freaking hot. There are men everywhere. Sweating. Half naked. More than half, actually. People are pouring buckets of ice old water on their heads. In one corner, a guy is getting a massage, but the masseuse is alternately walking on his back and yanking the guy’s legs up and over his head. In another corner, an enormous guy is getting beaten with a flogger of some sort and having ice cold buckets of water poured all over him. I was like “HOLY SHIT, I am not in Arlington anymore!”. And “get me the F*CK out of here!”  The beating is the Russian Platza treatment. For only $35 you too can be publicly beaten. There was no way in HELL I was going to do that. No way. Robin went off to get a massage (so cool – no appts before hand…you just ask and go have it done) and Ashley and I did the other steam rooms. Which were great. My sinuses were very very happy. But, I started thinking that okay, I’m here. In a Russian bathhouse. When am I ever going to do this again? Etc. So, I decided to just go for it…and I asked for  the platza!!  Ashley did it at the same time (I did’t want that little b*tch watching me get beaten AND I knew that if I saw her go first I would chicken out) Here’s a description of it:

Platza Oak Leaf
Lie down while in the Russian Room and aplatza specialist will scrub you (actually beat you) with a broom made of fresh oak leaves, sopping with olive oil soap. The oak leaves contain a natural astringent, which will open your pours, remove toxins, and actually take off layers of dead skin. Some described theplatza as “Jewish acupuncture”.

Most.Intense.Experience.Ever. Hot. Cold. Pleasure. Pain (mild). Public Humiliation. It was sensory overload. It left me shaken and out of breath. I wasn’t sure if I was going to laugh or cry. I think I did both. Very domineering man, wearing a wet towel on his head and a pair of shorts and nothing else, takes me by the hand and lays me down on a step in the Russian Room. Cold towel over the head. Cannot see what’s happening. Warm water poured over the body. Very firm hands massaging and CRACK CRACKing my back. Bliss. I think I grunted and moaned. Wait. I know I did. Scrubbing with soapy water.Smack smack brush brush with the oak leaf flogger thing. So hot. Please pour cold water on me. Whoosh, cold water. Shock. Heaven. Both arms pulled behind my back and torso lifted off the step. Squealing. Next, both legs are lifted up and I am bent in half in a way I have never been before. More cold water please. YES.  Roll over. One leg up and over my head. And then the other. More soapy scrubbing and whacking and brushing. Towel still over the head. What’s happening?  Hot water rinsing soap off. Then nothing. COLD BUCKET OF WATER. Thank you. Thank you. Sit up. Cold water. Hot water. He stands me up (can’t really walk, shaky) and walks me out and orders me into the cold pool. I go. So cold. Polar Bear Club cold. Numb. He dresses me in a dry robe and wraps me in a warm towel. Walks me to a bench and sits me down. It’s over. This all took 10 minutes. I don’t know my own name at this point.

We stayed for over 3 hours. I could have stayed longer. I told random people sitting near me that I was going to move, not just to NYC, but actually into the bathhouse. Live there. Be flogged. And blissed out. Robin did a massage (and mud/salt treatment) that apparently like a physical therapy session, wrapped in a chiropractor visit, topped off with the dude washing and conditioning her hair. OMG. How amazing does that sound?

Oh, just to be clear. Not sexy. Not sexual. Nothing felt weird or inappropriate. No leering from the male onlookers. It was just so amazing. I don’t think this long winded description did it justice. It was the best spa experience of my life. Seriously. And I have been to some serious spas. Including the sublime Spa Grande at the Grand Wailea in Maui. If you get a chance, GO. Definitely.  Well, fancy friends like “Debbie” or “Fawn” might not want to go. You may be horrified. But, the rest of you? Do it. Love it. Beg for more.

Hotel Report – NYC

Hotwire. F*cking Hotwire. I trusted it and it f*cked me.  That’s okay tho. Still had a good weekend, despite Hotwire’s f*ckery.

The Frug has rubbed off on me a teeny bit.  Actually tried to save money!  Not be a spendthrift!  Wanted to have a Girls Weekend in the city but didn’t want to horrify him too much and then find myself locked back up in my Life of Servitude forever, kwim? So, I decided to book a hotel thru Hotwire. Have used it in the past and really liked it. Ended up that time at the Parker Meridien a few years ago and loved it.  In case you’re not familiar w/Hotwire, basically, you search hotels based on price/location/etc. but you don’t find out what the name of the property is until you book it. So, I searched hotels in Soho (wanted something hip and cute and boutiquey but not too $$$. In Manhattan, how hard could that be?! LOL)…came up a 4 star hotel w/restaurant/bar, pool, fitness center, etc. for $188. Seemed too good to be true, right? Well, it was. (&$@$ I booked it. IT WAS NOT IN SOHO. It was not a cute little boutique hotel. It was a f*cking Hilton.  Nothing wrong w/Hiltons at all. Just like there is nothing wrong w/the Olive Garden or Sbarro, kwim? The most painful part was the it wasn’t in Soho at all. Yes, technically, it was South of Houston.  But, it was so South of Houston that it was in Lower Manhattan…Financial District. Our room overlooked the footprint of the World Trade Center…Ground Zero. Freaked me out.  I swear there’s still dust in the air from 9/11. There is still just a pit there. A huge gaping hole…8 years later. Why??

Anyway, Hotwire is going to be getting a sternly worded letter (okay, email) about the location! NOT SOHO, did I mention that part yet?  The hotel itself, the Millenium Hilton, was very, very nice. Clean, decently sized for Manhattan…the Frug and I stayed at the W back in ‘00 and our room was smaller than a cruise ship cabin!  So, we had a room w/2 double beds, etc. that was just not where it was supposed to be…but, it worked out. Had a lobby bar…3 drinks (1 round for us girls) for $50…welcome to Manhattan, baby!

NYC, Public Flogging, and more importantly, Robert Pattinson

Had a Girls Weekend in NYC. Left my dreary Mommy Life behind me for a few days. I was so thrilled to be away, I was actually giddy.  Today, Life said “Welcome Back, Bitch!” Laundry overflowing out of the hampers and spilling out into the hall…dishes piled precariously in the kitchen sink…and, joy of joys, Peter is sick and staying home from school today. I shan’t let it be a F*ck Me Day tho. My buzz will NOT be killed, damnit.

However, I have much to report on…the city, what I wore, how much I drank (and ($@ how much those drinks cost! Not Frug approved at all!), where I shopped, Turkish Baths, conflicted feelings on celebrity stalking, and Robert Pattinson. Always RPattz.

Keep checking back today and tomorrow. Sordid details will be shared.

EXCLUSIVE: Lisa Gastineau Owes Ammex $68k | RadarOnline.com

hahaha  I don’t even know who this is but wanted to point out that she’s worse than I am! LOL

EXCLUSIVE: Lisa Gastineau Owes Ammex $68k | RadarOnline.com.