Tuesday, February 15, 2005
We see a lot of movies
Because both Bolton Video and Movie Magic have three movies for €5 specials. Last night, rented the Doors, Death to Smoochy and Super Troopers. Watched the first two, both awesome. The Doors in particular is a rush. Val Kilmer does a way too accurate Jim Morrison. Sadie is head over heels for Val Kilmer, and I went rhapsodic over Catherine Keener in Smoochy. I'll smoochy her. The night before, we went to Sideways, which is definitely one of the best movies I've seen in years, up there with Lost in Translation and American Beauty. It's everything gentle naturalism, alive with humor, can and should be. It's one of the most wonderful movies I've ever watched, that is, it's full of moments that just make you feel so happy for the characters, so nostalgic for a place you've never been, so passionate about wine you (I) can't smell, so invested in the journey--wine, women and driving, it's sort of my ideal movie. It's a pity I have virtually no sense of smell. On the other hand it's the only thing stopping me from developing into an oenophile.
We have tickets to the IFI showing of La Dolce Vita tonight. Very excited. The other day Sadie rented Spun, Friday and Ocean's Eleven. I watched Friday. Before that, it was Charlie's Angels II, Excalibur and the Princess Bride. I'd been to Ocean's Twelve a few days before, also a brilliant show. We're at the giant cinema next door at least once a week. We consider it our office. We keep meaning to see Spongebob Squarepants, but the latest showing is always at 6:30pm, and we refuse to go if we're not drunk enough to see it in all its fluorescent glory. We need to budget our time better. And we never get drunk anymore. It's just too expensive at this point. We've spent the year cocktailing relentlessly; I'd venture that by now even Sadie knows more drinks than 99% of bartenders in this city, and probably mixes better, too. It's a pleasant feeling, actually, to realize that you've followed through on a resolution. I decided one of the year's main projects would be the assemblage of an outstanding liquor cabinet and constant experimentation, and I've done that. It's something new every night now: I just learned that if you up the sugar level a little, Calvados makes for a terrific Sazerac, and last night, pulled together an Obituary Cocktail (an ordinary martini, plus Pernod/Pastis equivalent to the dry vermouth), which tastes excellent, even if the anise scent is overbearing.
Sadie bought Pimm's the other day, and I picked up Bitter Lemon and used some of it to fill an ice tray. Going to try something when I get home. It should be interesting: shake together seven counts Pimms and bitter lemon ice cubes. Strain into cocktail glass. Float ginger ale (or possibly the kickier ginger beer) and garnish with a cucumber (the usual Pimm's garnish). I challenge anyone to name me a student (or non-student) apartment with Pimm's, Chartreuse, grenadine, two garlic presses, three wooden stirring paddles and enough baking paraphernalia to cater a coronation. Also, I've noticed a distressing trend, and I'd like to know if it's as big a problem in the states as it seems to be here: the chronic lack of ice in students' apartments. Between icing the cocktail glasses--it's essential--shaking, and drinking everything hard or soft on the rocks, we go through a freezerful of ice per day--five trays of 12 cubes, plus one of 12 penguins. Everywhere else I go, though, they've got no goddamn ice! How do you people live? It's not like it costs you anything, for Christ's sake.
Saturday night in the club was excellent. The music didn't suck as much as it normally does on a Saturday, the place was jammed but not slammed, and I personally raked in €55-60 in tips, not counting credit cards. Unfortunately, we pool our tips, and the other bartenders don't pull their weight. I walked out with €13.
On another note, Harvard was sent out yesterday. Three envelopes, application, supplement, transcript (despite the good overall grade, the capital F after LitSex and the III after Old English do not seem to me rousing endorsements). Kissed them, pushed them through the slot, and they were gone. Then it occurred to me--moment of delusion--that I might get in, meaning I'd actually have to go to Harvard. Scared me to death. Fortunately, I don't think there's much chance of that happening. The good news is, Chicago, being the mean scary place it is, only gets 8,000 apps per year (compare to Harvard's 22,000), and accepts 3000 of those, of which only 1100 attend. I remember being a big fan of that number, because it meant that Chicago just frightens away a lot of potential applicants, and ends up mostly with the ones really willing to crucify themselves for their passion. At least that's how I imagine it; don't burst my fucking bubble.
We have tickets to the IFI showing of La Dolce Vita tonight. Very excited. The other day Sadie rented Spun, Friday and Ocean's Eleven. I watched Friday. Before that, it was Charlie's Angels II, Excalibur and the Princess Bride. I'd been to Ocean's Twelve a few days before, also a brilliant show. We're at the giant cinema next door at least once a week. We consider it our office. We keep meaning to see Spongebob Squarepants, but the latest showing is always at 6:30pm, and we refuse to go if we're not drunk enough to see it in all its fluorescent glory. We need to budget our time better. And we never get drunk anymore. It's just too expensive at this point. We've spent the year cocktailing relentlessly; I'd venture that by now even Sadie knows more drinks than 99% of bartenders in this city, and probably mixes better, too. It's a pleasant feeling, actually, to realize that you've followed through on a resolution. I decided one of the year's main projects would be the assemblage of an outstanding liquor cabinet and constant experimentation, and I've done that. It's something new every night now: I just learned that if you up the sugar level a little, Calvados makes for a terrific Sazerac, and last night, pulled together an Obituary Cocktail (an ordinary martini, plus Pernod/Pastis equivalent to the dry vermouth), which tastes excellent, even if the anise scent is overbearing.
Sadie bought Pimm's the other day, and I picked up Bitter Lemon and used some of it to fill an ice tray. Going to try something when I get home. It should be interesting: shake together seven counts Pimms and bitter lemon ice cubes. Strain into cocktail glass. Float ginger ale (or possibly the kickier ginger beer) and garnish with a cucumber (the usual Pimm's garnish). I challenge anyone to name me a student (or non-student) apartment with Pimm's, Chartreuse, grenadine, two garlic presses, three wooden stirring paddles and enough baking paraphernalia to cater a coronation. Also, I've noticed a distressing trend, and I'd like to know if it's as big a problem in the states as it seems to be here: the chronic lack of ice in students' apartments. Between icing the cocktail glasses--it's essential--shaking, and drinking everything hard or soft on the rocks, we go through a freezerful of ice per day--five trays of 12 cubes, plus one of 12 penguins. Everywhere else I go, though, they've got no goddamn ice! How do you people live? It's not like it costs you anything, for Christ's sake.
Saturday night in the club was excellent. The music didn't suck as much as it normally does on a Saturday, the place was jammed but not slammed, and I personally raked in €55-60 in tips, not counting credit cards. Unfortunately, we pool our tips, and the other bartenders don't pull their weight. I walked out with €13.
On another note, Harvard was sent out yesterday. Three envelopes, application, supplement, transcript (despite the good overall grade, the capital F after LitSex and the III after Old English do not seem to me rousing endorsements). Kissed them, pushed them through the slot, and they were gone. Then it occurred to me--moment of delusion--that I might get in, meaning I'd actually have to go to Harvard. Scared me to death. Fortunately, I don't think there's much chance of that happening. The good news is, Chicago, being the mean scary place it is, only gets 8,000 apps per year (compare to Harvard's 22,000), and accepts 3000 of those, of which only 1100 attend. I remember being a big fan of that number, because it meant that Chicago just frightens away a lot of potential applicants, and ends up mostly with the ones really willing to crucify themselves for their passion. At least that's how I imagine it; don't burst my fucking bubble.
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