He Stole Them While I Was in the Shower!

What, you ask? My damn sneakers!

It was after my Saturday run in Central Park with the Front Runners, when I was taking a shower at the upper west side gym, where I use their lockers to keep a change of clothes. Being raised in New York (and therefore 'street smart'), I lock up all my belongings when I know I can't keep an eye on them; except for my sneakers, where I place in front of my locked locker. Who wants smelly sneakers with their clean clothes, right?

I mean, who wants smelly sneakers at all?! (Except them of course.)

After my shower, I returned to my locker and my sneakers were gone! I thought the cleaning guy took them (to the front desk or lost and found); I mean, that's what I hoped as I continued to dress and scan the locker room (secretly grateful that I locked up everything else). Every single guy in a towel was suspect. The hotter, the more suspect.

Of course, they weren't at the front desk, nor did the cleaning guy take them. Instead, some crazy is probably using it as a champagne glass.

Well, the bright side is I get to go shoe shopping. Yay!

"My Boyfriend's Back..."

And I might be the one in trouble.

After a long, long tour schecule, my boopy is finally back in New York! I'm so excited!

As always, I won't be posting about my love life here, as I think it's something you should pry out of me in person. But if I'm (even more) lax in posting, you'll know why.

You can ask about the rope burns though.

While we're on this topic, I spent the my last week of my regained bachelor-hood-dom out and about. Splash, Barrage, Astoria*, and Spirit. My calves are killing me!

Also, now that restaurant week is over (though some restaurants are extending their prix fixe menus until Labor Day) I have a few more stories to tell; one where I was labeled the "Charlotte". I don't know how I feel about that; though, she is the prettiest.

But first things first...

* Not a club, the neighborhood of Astoria, Queens.

"Finish Him!"

I can only follow my previous post by posting this link. This shows what kind of geek I am.

Speaking about games, I have a Scene-It play date... anyone have any tips on how I can cheat? Well, if not, I'll kick their ass in Mortal Combat; and I'm not talking about wrestling, though I know the 'finishing moves' for either situation.

And if that doesn't work, I'm breaking out the DDR.

Omg, I'm such a geek.

Zidane, Naturally.

What's up with all these bloggers becoming podcasters nowadays? Almost makes me want to pull a Zidane.

On second thought, I think I might start one myself. I know enough crazy people that it might just work. And by crazy, I mean neurotic, narcissistic, and incredibly entertaining. Naturally, I mean bloggers.

Speaking of which, I hung out with a few of them last night. It's Restaurant Week here in New York City, so I used that as an excuse to have some good food and conversation. We went to Riingo, so at least the conversation was good.

Okay, the food wasn't horrible, I would even say it was good; but there was just no 'wow' factor. In the end, the price just didn't justify the small portions and mediocrity. There's just better deals out there; and naturally, I already have plans to find them.

They Need to Stop Letting Me Into Straight Bars

Or they need to cut me off when I stop random straight boys that I think are cute and tell them that my friend, the hot chica, thinks they're cute. Without her consent. Or her knowledge for that matter.

Because then I start snapping pictures¹.

Yep, that's the picture of the victim and the target I took last Saturday at some Lower East Side basement bar while participating in some 'Critical Dance/Bar Hopping' event. We lost the group and were left to our own devices.

In other words, we were too drunk to realize they had left for the next bar.

And while we're talking about 'knowing better', they shouldn't have given me bacon if they didn't want me to savor it like it was meant to be savored.

Know what I mean?

¹ Why? To determine if they're actually cute when you've sobered up!

Thought of the Day: Air Conditioner

Why is it called an 'air conditioner'? I would make more sense if it were called an 'air cooler'. You wouldn't even have to change the way you refer to it abbreviated: the 'AC'.

Speaking of which, I think I'm going to start referring to my air purifier as an 'air shampoo'.

Four Day Weekend

Within the past three days, I found myself talking about the Brazilian wax I had more than a year ago. On three separate occasions. If something else happens in thrice, I'm going to wonder if someone is trying to drop me a hint.

This past Saturday, I ran around Central Park with the Front Runners. 6.2 miles - the longest distance I've ever ran at once. And when I say ran, I mean jog, jog, jog, walk, walk, jog, walk, fall down, roll over, and die. Luckily, I had a jogging buddy to save me. We celebrated my accomplishment by shopping, of course.

Saw Superman Returns. Didn't feel like 2.5 hours; until I stood up and my ass hurt. Recommended - especially when Lois Lane gets killed.

Today, I was lucky enough to tour Steiner Studios at the Brooklyn Naval Yard. It's just amazing the amount of work that goes into movie making, even more so all the details of setting up a sound stage. Thanks BFF!

And since it's July 4th, and I am a model american citizen (blogger), I must recycle this fabulous display of nationalism. Happy Independence Day ya'll. I hope everyone rebels in their own way until they get what they want.