Memorial Weekend

The office is like a meat locker today, they seriously cranked up the air conditioning over the holiday weekend. I’m sat at my desk with a contraband space heater running so as not to freeze my bits off. Ironically its 79F and gorgeously sunny outside, I may have to take my laptop and adjourn to the park for the afternoon. I wish!!

Unfathomably, it was only a fortnight ago I was still wearing wool trousers to work, but this weekend I had to quickly bust out the summer togs from winter hibernation. It was 91F on Friday. Scorchio!! Erm excuse me, but what happened to Spring!! I was relived to find that most of it still fits, although I shudder at the memory of trying on the white Theory pants I bought last year. Big mistake, what was I thinking? Obviously I must be retaining water with it being so hot out and it has nothing at all to do with all the dessert I scoffed this weekend. Ahem!!

A great Memorial weekend anyway, relaxing and low key – except for one minor incident which I’ll come to later - exactly what I was hoping for after an intense week at the office preparing for last Thursday’s pitch – our preso apparently went down like a lead balloon with the client after all our hard work too - a week which started out just wonderfully with a team bollocking from the general manager who wasn’t happy with our progress on the presentation with two days to go until the deadline.

We left her office on Monday with instructions to drop everything to work on the pitch under her supervision. The next few days were spent with the team holed up in a conference room from 9.30am to midnight every day. Ugh. I hate having to work like that, and not even the company of the lovely Joe could lift my spirits. In fact after 2-3 days in his company I found his exuberant personality – ‘that’s great, amazing, I LOVE it - grated on me a little. Sara hit the nail on the head this weekend when she said he sounded ‘very Jerry McGuire’ from my description. That’s EXACTLY what he’s like, surprisingly fake and loud. The bloom is definitely off that particularly rose, amazing cock/cook or not. What? Fickle? Me? Nooooo!! I can practically hear Miles rolling his eyes.

What with working until the small hours for much of last week I was fit to drop by the time the holiday weekend rolled around and very much looking forward to being extremely lazy. Sara came in from Long Beach and we planned a laid back weekend of strolling through art galleries, eating gelato and availing ourselves of spa services at Acqua (sic) Beauty Bar.

Surprisingly for a Memorial Day weekend the city was absolutely chocka with people. Normally it’s relatively deserted, save for the tourists clogging up Times Square, since the weekend signifies the start of the summer rentals in The Hamptons, Fire Island, the Jersey Shore etc and everyone buggers off to the beach. It’s usually a good weekend to get a last minute reservation at a restaurant you’d normally have to book weeks in advance, but not this year, the Hampton Jitney - bus service transporting New Yorkers to The Hamptons - must have been tumbleweeds. The city was jumping with people and on more than one occasion I found myself smooshed dangerously close to some guy’s hairy armpit on the subway. Ugh, although admittedly I didn’t mind quite so much when the pits in question belonged to an incredibly gorgeous skinny French dude with piercing blue eyes and erratic grey hair. Sigh.

I’d been looking forward to feeling as if I had the city to myself that I felt slightly cheated at having to share it, especially as we were completely out of luck bagging a table at the just opened Aurora restaurant in SoHo on Saturday night. The place was packed to the rafters come 7pm and booked solid for the night. Pah!! However I overcame my resentment to the throngs and had a fabulous time hanging out with Sara, lots of eating and drinking and generally over indulging on delights such as City Bakery’s hot chocolate with giant homemade marshmallow floating on top - heaven in a cup – and gelato at Grom, a new gelato place which has had a queue of upper west siders outside ever since it opened about three weeks ago. Hellooooooo muffin top!!

All in all a lovely and relaxing day, that is until we got back to my apartment around 11pm and heard a voicemail from Alan, an ex from a couple of years ago who sporadically pops back into my life - on a strictly platonic basis I might add.

In his message Alan said that he’d given a lot of thought to how I’d acted a couple of weeks ago and had decided to call and let me know that he thought me ‘an absolute cunt’. Charming eh? And what did I do to deserve such verbal abuse? Well, a couple of weeks ago he came over to hang out and I mentioned in advance that I was really tired and couldn’t hang out as long as I usually would, because I was feeling very tired and hadn’t been sleeping well, so he’d have to leave early.

At this he stews for two weeks and then calls me to leave an abusive message on my answering machine? Blowing things a little out of proportion perhaps? He’s almost 40years old for God’s sake. It’s mind-boggling how offended he’s decided to be over something so minor!! And to think some of my friends questioned my refusal to get back together with him. The man’s an idiot. Between Alan and GS I’m sooooo done with these self proclaimed sensitive men. In my, albeit limited, experiences the only people they’re ever actually sensitive about are themselves. They’re such tiresome little fuckwits.

Luckily I didn’t let Alan’s tirade mar the weekend. I’ve had so many ups and downs with him and his sensitivities off and on over the last few years that I’m beyond caring anymore.

Sunday was another idyllic day, even though I woke up ridiculously early for a holiday weekend - too stuffy to sleep in - so I was showered, dressed, made up with my hair blown out and ready to face the world by 8.30am. Sara wasn’t far behind and we were enjoying a hearty brunch in Annies, which was packed at 9.30am – again, who exactly went away this weekend?

My original plan had been to take a trip out to water taxi beach – a man made beach in Long Island City - and loll about for the afternoon before our spa treatments downtown, but it was so hot I didn’t think it was a good idea with my lily white skin, so we walked off brunch with a stroll through Central Park, admiring out the hot, shirtless but clearly crazy male joggers running laps of the park in 80F heat - Mental!! - and headed down to the air conditioning of Grand Central instead to check out the Celluloid Skyline exhibit (http://www.celluloidskyline.com/main/splash.html) at Vanderbilt Hall which explores New York’s portrayal in film.

It was interesting, the scenic backdrops on display are stunning, but it was lacking something for me, and a lot more reading than I expected. I found it a bit disappointing as an exhibit, although I think the book by James Sanders that it’s based on is probably interesting reading.

I also thought the exhibition would be larger but by the time we were done we still had over three hours to kill before our spa appointments so we headed to the Upper West Side for gelato at Grom, taking the shuttle train from Grand Central to catch the 1,2,3 trains from Times Square.

We were sat on the shuttle train waiting for it to leave Grand Central when who should hop on as the doors closed, but Alan. Can you believe that? Seven million people in New York and I have to bump into HIM on that day of all days. It’s not as if he has a specific reason to be in that neighborhood either, it was completely random. Bizarre. He gave me a quizzical, semi-amused look as he walked through our carriage and into the next. I looked at him in disgust and nudged Sara to point him out.

As we got off the subway I held back to let him get ahead of me, but he waited for me to pass and tapped me on the shoulder to apologize for his message, but I shrugged him off and carried on walking. I really don’t want anything to do with him anymore. I’ve been a good friend over the years and if that’s the way I’m going to be treated then I’m done. Sara seemed a bit worried he might physically lash out after hearing his message, but he left me alone as I walked away. However he did call and leave two voice mails which I picked up as we were queuing for our gelato.

The first message started off by apologizing for his message on Saturday, and then for everything terrible he’d ever said and done in the past, but then concluded by telling me it was a mistake for him to have got back in touch with me this year since I clearly harbored a lot of resentment towards him for him being such ‘a taker’ in the past. Ohhhh so that’s why I’m obviously annoyed with him, because I’m resentful towards him, nothing at all to do with him being verbally abusive. I love a man who takes no responsibility for his actions. What a pillock!!

He followed up that gem with a brief message telling me not to return his call if I was going to say something nasty to him. I promptly deleted his number from my phone.

The spa appointment couldn’t have been timed better and I put myself in the capable hands of Mandy, for a relaxing facial. Well, relaxing except for the extractions. My God they hurt like hell and I have to say I thought Mandy was a brave woman as she did not smother my hands in lotion, wrap them in plastic and place them inside heated mitts beforehand as they’ve usually done when I’ve had a facial.

They do this under the guise of giving you lovely soft hands, but it’s an aspect of the treatment I’ve always felt is primarily designed to stop you from smacking the aesthetician in retaliation for the pain inflicted from the pimple squeezing.

Afterwards, proudly blotchy faced, we gave Aurora a call to see if they had any tables available and hurrah, they did, so we hopped in a cab and headed down there for dinner.

Sooooooo good, it’s a new favorite. Divine. Plus the staff there are so nice, very attentive, the food is amazing and Sara will definitely give top marks to the manager with whom she was thoroughly smitten. He was drop dead gorgeous albeit in an ever so slightly Euro trashy way. She could barely take her eyes off him and I was worried, when he came over to resolve a problem at the next table, that she might lean over and sink her teeth into his, admittedly, very biteable bottom. Thankfully she managed to restrain herself and the police didn’t have to be summoned.

Sadly I’m back at work now, although happily it’s a three day week for me. I booked Friday off as that’s when the Satya jewelry sample sale starts. Yippee. I need something to cheer me up as at my dental check up on Friday Dr. A told me that I need to ‘make an appointment immediately’ with the oral surgeon to have the last of my wisdom teeth pulled. This would be the wisdom tooth at the bottom right which the oral surgeon previously told me would be ‘tricky’ to remove. Great!!

I suppose I was just putting off the inevitable by waiting, but still, I’m not exactly thrilled at the prospect, although on the positive side there is that lovely prescription for Vicodin to look forward to.

Employee Benefits

I feel like I left my brain behind this morning. I had a rare chance to nip over to the gym for a lunch time workout and was in the office lobby about to head out of the door before realising I'd forgotten my gym pass. Back upstairs to get it, and then over to the gym, I was all changed and raring to hit the cross trainer when......where are my trainers? Oh yes, under the desk at work. Duh!!

I stood in the changing room for a second wondering if I could get away with working out in my socks, but I've seen people be kicked out of the gym for that - a safety issue I assume - and my kitten heel Christian Louboutin mules ($200 at a sample sale) weren't going to cut it, so no exercising for me today. I used my time wisely though; I took a trip up to the Estee Lauder company store to replenish supplies. I got a 'travel exclusive' Daywear Plus Moisturiser and a 30ml Idealist Skin Refinisher (love that) for $46.87. Sold individually at retail they would have cost $91.57, so a 49% saving. Marvellous!!

Generally the week is not going so bad, but I'm just soooooo tired, although thankfully Jose 'look at me I have leadership qualities' B is not driving me quite as bonkers as last week with his bossing.

Jose B: We need the program business case for the 4pm meeting.
Me: Don't you think we need a program IDEA before we develop a business case around it?
Jose B: No, I think we need to draft the business case

Upstart!!! He is so NOT the boss of me, however I did provide a draft - full of placeholders - and passed it back to him with a request for the missing information. That shut him up, temporarily at least, although it also helps that he's got a new target, Joe, the guy tasked with creating the 'big idea' for the pitch and who ended up working through the night last night.

Have to say that Joe's arrival on the business has improved things significantly. The man is a juicy piece of lusty pash. He came down to talk to me yesterday to get up to speed and I almost swooned. I was glad to note he did a double take when he saw me too, so either I had a bogey on the end of my nose or I was more attractive that he was expecting for the Geek Department.

Admittedly I went slightly cyber stalker and Googled him moments after he'd left my desk. He's on friendster and am happy to note his profile indicates he is 'looking to date women'. With a man who dresses that well you have to wonder.

I sent the profile link to Miles who agreed he is a hottie, but emailed me back to tell me I'm wasting my time as according to the testimonials from Joe's friends re: his 'amazing cock' he was clearly playing for Miles' team.

I was confused given the 'looking to date women' note. A reread of the aforementioned testimonials revealed Joe is actually an amazing COOK.

He’s got a one track mind that one. Clearly he’s missing the lovely Kansas.

Unfortunately for me, Miles' dyslexia has probably ruined any possible chance I may have with Joe since I was just at a meeting where he presented his 'big idea' to the team, and as soon as he walked into the room I had to stifle a fit of the giggles at the idea of his friends' testimonials to his amazing appendage. Am so not professional.

Ah well, regardless of whose team Joe’s on he's great eye candy. I can barely wait to get to pitch meetings these days. Work until midnight with Joe you say? Why certainly Big Cheese!!

Working too hard?

So, I just popped out of the office to pick up lunch and I realise I'm exhausted and extremely stressed from working on two new business pitches due this week, but am I also delusional?

Did I REALLY just see a short fat blond woman dressed as a crew member of the Starship Enterprise?

I believe I did! Is there a convention in town?

Anthropologie tour

Kimberly emailed me today, 20weeks pregnant and bemoaning her new 'muffin top' and how nothing fits her, even though she is still wearing her size 10 jeans - British size 10 that is, American size 4. Skinny wench!! At least there's a baby inside her muffin top, I have no such excuse, unless I am having an odd elephantine 20month long pregnancy, since it's been 8months since I've had any rampant totty, so even though I am feeling on the portly side I think I would have been bigger if I were carrying the child of Gobshite.

Hmmmm, first time I have actually calculated how long it's been, I always find it strange when people know exactly how much time has passed since they last had a roll in the hay. A bit pessimistic. It's not as if the last time I had sex I was thinking 'this is probably going to be the last time for a few months, I'd better make the most of it,' but so many of my friends seem to know the timing down to the week, their very own key performance indicator.

That's got me thinking now, maybe I'll pop over to Kyotofu this evening and grab Michael...except....ohhh....dammit...they're closed on Mondays. Foiled!!!

Clearly I am mad for it at the moment as I was constantly checking out the boys about town while on a mission to track down a white top I'd seen online in Anthropologie on Sunday. Its very cute, check it out...

http://www.anthropologie.com/jump.jsp?itemID=16766&itemType=PRODUCT&iSubCat=1793&iMainCat=8

...although I can't say I am overly thrilled that it is labelled 'Nanna's blouse.' It puts me in mind of something an 80year old woman would wear and not a hip young thing such as myself (ahem), but I have high hopes it will go perfectly with a pair of dark olive green Theory trousers I bought last year at the sample sale, but rarely wear since the colour's a bit on the drab side. Trousers I couldn't actually find for the life of me this weekend when I wanted them to take shopping for the trying on of various tops. I thought I was going senile. I must have looked for them 5 or 6 times and even went so far as to pull the suitcases down from the top of the wardrobe in the spare room where I store things I rarely wear, but who knows when I'll decide that the pale pink skirt I bought almost a decade ago, when I was in Rome with Kimberly and Linda, now suits me. Unfortunately the American trousers were not to be found nestling next to the European skirts and I was beginning to think I might have given them when I finally found them sharing a hanger, hidden beneath another pair of trousers that are too heavy to wear now that we are seeing warmer weather.

I walked miles in search of the blouse. First I trotted 30-some blocks to the Anthropologie at Rockefeller Center, no joy, so then I braved the masses of tourists walking 4 abreast on 5th Avenue and walked down to the store on 16th and 5th in the Flatiron District. Still no luck, I finally ended up in walking down to the one in SoHo after detouring to the West Village to pick up a couple of cans of Heinz tomato soup and a Walnut Whip at Myers of Keswick, then along Spring St and down to Broome where I hoped to catch a glimpse of hot NY celeb chef and all round be-tatooed cutie Sam Mason (http://www.frenchculinary.com/images/Sam-Mason.jpg) as I passed his soon to be opened 'dessert forward' - just what I don't need, more dessert - restaurant at number 525, before ending up at the Anthropologie store on West Broadway.

Once inside I was taunted by the distant sighting of a sales assistant wearing the aforementioned Nanna Blouse, although my attempts to chase her down and ask her where I could locate it in the store where thwarted as the skinny minx disappeared behind a sales rack never to be seen again.

I love Anthropologie, but it's one of the most MADDENING stores when you're actually looking for something specific. When you first go in you think it has such a charming cutesy layout, all quirky birdcages, sofas, country style tables with low shelves upon which they have various tops folded. It's fine if you're browsing and not looking for something specific. It all feels very European and alluring, until you realise that you CAN'T CHUFFING FIND WHAT YOU'RE LOOKING FOR!! Aaaaarrrrrgggghhhhhhhhh!!!!

I ended up taking the subway home and ordering it online - amazingly they had my size, they rarely do. It cost an extra $10 in postage and packing. Fingers crossed it fits and suits me after all the effort or I shall be very disgruntled.

No mood for men

Saturday was a gorgeous day, 70F and sunny, barely a cloud in the sky. I took the subway out to Brooklyn Botanical Garden on Saturday with Priscilla, my horticulturally inclined Brazilian friend from cardio kickbox class. Priscilla is your stereotypical Brazilian in that she’s utterly drop-dead gorgeous. She's also much more forthright than I expected given her reserved demeanor in class. It was the first time we'd hung out outside of the gym and she was telling me why, at 55, she's given up on the men in New York.

"I have no mood for men, I have machine" she exclaimed loudly as I clapped my hands over the ears of a passing child. After years of effort she's decided she no longer has the patience to put up with the male of the species. She's certainly not intending to ever live with a man again since they "take up valuable closet space, sweat when they sleep and wake you up for sex in the middle of the night." She's completely done. Finito!! She's washed her hands of 'em, although she hasn't gone quite as far as two of her friends who became lesbians owing of the lack of decent men in New York. They feared growing old alone and turned to each other for comfort and…well now they're a couple.

Quite a drastic measure I thought, but whatever floats your boat. I wonder if this is what I have to look forward to. I can't imagine I'll go that route, I love my girlfriends to bits, but there are boundaries. If anything I envisage more of a Golden Girls scenario, bingo nights, that sort of thing, but hey, you never know, the man thing hasn't exactly been a roaring success to date.

Speaking of men, I stopped by Kyotofu on Thursday intending to say hello to Michael, the cute guy I got talking to in Cafe Grumpy last weekend. I coerced Francesca into coming along, got myself all psyched up and guess what…he wasn't there!! It was very disappointing. Fortunately the desserts are extremely delicious and more than compensated for the lack of totty, we ordered a dessert sampler each paired with sake and had a lovely time catching up.

We were close to finishing our food when Michael walked in and my tummy did a small somersault. I was all ready to catch his eye and say hello, my arm was even half raised in a wave, when some bloke, three tables down, pipped me to the post, calling out to him and waving him over. Tsk, the cheek of the man barging in like that and snatching away my opportunity for potential romance. I was not best pleased I can tell you. He was clearly someone Michael knew, but didn't strike me as a friend, a regular customer maybe, or a business associate. They chatted a while and the couple of times I looked over I noticed Michael's eyes would dart around the restaurant, checking his customers were happy. He had a 'I really need to get to work, but I don't want to be rude' sort of body language going on. After about 10-15minutes, Michael excused himself to start work and bustled off into the back.

Francesca and I were finishing the last of our sake he came over to clear the table beside us and asked if he could get us anything else. I realised this was my opportunity and briefly considered saying something, but I chickened out and just asked for the check. Francesca was not at all impressed with me and disgustedly called me a wimp, but what can I say, the timing just didn't seem right, he was too preoccupied with work, and I just wasn't getting the right vibe from him. I don't think he even clicked that we'd met a few days ago in Cafe Grumpy, which makes me think that his initial interest was more likely because he was trying to drive business to the restaurant than any attraction towards me. And to think I missed salsa class to stop by too.

Deesha thinks I should call him, but I doubt I will. It feels a little undignified, not to mention a little cougarish, for a woman of my years to be chasing after a 24year old. It would be okay if the aforementioned 24year old had shown clear interest and I was reciprocating, but since he didn't I'm chalking it up to a pleasant coffee shop encounter and moving on. NEXT!!!!

I can't say I am having any luck with Salsa Beppe either. He flirts a lot, gives me huge hugs and always tells me how good I look and how nice it is to see me. He even suggests we go out dancing sometime. I am encouraging and show interest, but he does NOTHING!!! All mouth and no trousers that one. In fact our exchanges are all very high school…

Salsa Beppe: So F, did I ever tell you that you’re my favourite Brit?
Me (smiling): And the only Brit you know I imagine?
Salsa Beppe (defensively): No, no, not at all, I know quite a few
Me (eyebrows raised): Umm hmmm, right
Salsa Beppe: It’s TRUE. I work with someone who's half British. They drink tea and everything.

He was serious about the tea drinking thing, many Americans seem to think this is what Brits do all day. When I first moved here I was gobsmacked by the number of people who asked me if we Brits really do stop work each day at 4pm to "take tea". They were serious too. Uh-huh of course we do, we drink Earl Grey from fine china teacups and eat cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off. Eyeroll.

At least dancing wise the salsa classes are generally going well, although last week was interesting, and not necessarily in a good way. The instructor taught us a step where the followers walk forward and the leaders step to our right while lightly pressing the pads of two fingers to our stomachs, about level with our waists, pushing the followers back into a basic step.

You could tell the guys who were more experienced dancers as they didn't just prod you in the stomach. One guy, who's always a bit heavy handed, prodded me so hard in the belly I had a bruise the next morning. Others didn't aim so well, possibly on purpose, with some hands coming a bit TOO close to my chest, about 2-3 inches north of where they should have been aiming. One guy even managed to prod me between my breasts. He doesn't know how dangerously close he came to a new addition to the dance pattern called a knee in the goolies.

Ai Caramba!!

TopShop minus 3 hours

There were a grand total of eight women queuing up outside Barneys for the launch of cocaine Kate's collection for TopShop when I walked by around 8am this morning on my way to work. With the exception of 2 mumsy looking women in Burberry coats all the women were dressed identically in skinny jeans, trapeze tops and ballet flats. So much for expressing your individuality through fashion.

I'm surprised, I thought there would be a longer line given the US fashion media's excitement for anything TopShop. There were bigger queues for the opening of Grom Gelateria on the Upper West Side this weekend.

http://eater.com/archives/2007/05/good_newsbad_ne_6.php

Maybe everyone's at home shopping online, the Barney's site is impossible to get onto this this morning.

Update (9:06am). Yup everyone's online, I finally got through to Barneys after repeated refreshing and the collection has 'temporarily sold out.'

Tantalizing Treats

I had brunch with Deesha, a former colleague, on Saturday. We went to Good on Greenwich Avenue in the village, it was packed as usual and a bit of a wait for a table, but it was worth it, their orange sour cream donuts are too gorgeous to pass up. Afterwards we wandered around the West Village and Chelsea, popping in the odd shop to browse, although I’m trying to minimise shopping sprees in favour of saving towards a deposit for an apartment these days. A laughable effort quite frankly given the price of apartments over here. I received a card in the post a few weeks ago advertising studio apartments at one of the new buildings going up a few blocks from me for $685,000. Can you believe that? For a studio? It's outrageous. I think the only way I will be able to manage to remain living in Manhattan is to marry a hedge fund manager, although if Manhattan is going to end up populated only by wealthy finance types I probably wouldn't want to live here anyway.

After a few hours window shopping we ended up at Cafe Grumpy for a coffee, a really good coffee shop on 20th St and 7th Ave where they take their caffeine very seriously. They do that coffee art stuff too, y'know hearts and leaf shapes in the froth. I can't resist that for some reason. I was waiting my turn at the counter when I noticed a guy filling the pastry case with the cakes the cafe brings in from Kyotofu restaurant, a high end dessert spot on 9th Avenue and 49th, and decided that Deesha and I needed to celebrate with a cake - her divorce coming through, my green card, any excuse. I’m really stretching out this green card celebration, mainly with food related treats, but you’d understand if you’d ever had one of Kyotofu's mini miso chocolate cakes. They are DIVINE, around 1/2 inch high and 1 1/2inches diameter chocolate cakes with a gooey chocolate center, and perfectly sized to have with a cup of coffee.

The guy behind the counter heard me rhapsodizing about the cakes to Deesha and asked me if I'd tried the muffins (missus). I hadn't, he told me they were also really good and we got to chatting about Kyotofu, how good the desserts were, and how I hadn't managed to go yet even though I worked fairly close by. He introduced himself as Michael, asked where I worked, told me I should come in - which was when I realised he worked at Kyotofu and not Cafe Grumpy and was there delivering the cakes.

Not to sound big headed or anything, but I was getting a vibe he was interested in me. My new resolution is to run with any interest if the man in question is seemingly normal, pleasant and of good hygiene, so I looked at Michael in a new light and noticed he was actually pretty damn cute and assumed he was some delivery boy-slash-waiter-slash actor type working at Kyotofu to pay the rent until he got his big break on Broadway - not that I was letting my imagination run away with me or anything.

The 'I-think-he-might-be-interested-in-me' vibe was further reinforced when he hung back a bit as he was leaving to say goodbye, he shook my hand, told me it was really nice to meet me and said that I should stop by Kyotofu soon. When he'd left Deesha turned to me and said "WOW!! He seemed to be REALLY interested in you!! What is it with you and restaurant types? [GS is a restaurant manager] You should definitely stop by Kyotofu next week."

"You don't think he was just looking to drive more business to the restaurant?" I asked Deesha

"Absolutely not, he seemed to be really interested in you and kept looking you up and down as you were waiting to order. You should go in and say hello to him next week, he was really cute."

I can barely wait to go, it's so nice to finally be interested in someone else after all the crap I put up with from GS. I'm already plotting who I can coerce into coming with me and kicking myself for not giving him my number then and there.

Saturday evening was a good laugh, I braved a salsa social with dance pals Azniv, Jacqui, and her friend Rinna who, it turns out, lives two blocks from me. We went to a vietnamese restaurant in Chelsea first, Safran - great food, but the service was a little lacking, although I'll give them the benefit of the doubt for now as they seemed a bit short staffed - and I told the girls about meeting Michael this afternoon - I'm so lacking for male attention that I feel the need to share even the most insignificant of encounters. Rinna it turns out was at Kyotofu for 'dinner' - a dessert sampler - on Friday night.

"Oh I was at Kyotofu yesterday, I met Michael. He's really nice, such a charmer and so cute. He's one of the owners."

I was flabbergasted when she said that. One of the OWNERS?? Delivering cakes to Cafe Grumpy?? Maybe there are two Michaels at Kyotofu. I quizzed Rinna for a description, but sure enough it sounded as if 'her' Michael was the same guy as 'my' Michael, which had me questioning whether he was actually interested in me or whether he really was just trying to drum up new business for his restaurant.

Of course to be sure we were talking about the same person I Googled "Kyotofu owner Michael" when I got home - I know, I know, stalker behavior. I can't help myself, I'm Google mad. Most of my female friends shamefacedly admit to a similar affliction. I would google GS on occasion after we broke up, there is a female porn star who shares his name ha ha!!! I share my name with a police officer in Canada. I imagine her riding around CHiPs style on her motorcycle, ridding Canada of hoodlums.

Anyway, sure enough a Michael Berl pops up on Google as a co-owner of Kyotofu. There is even a video interview with him, so I know he's the same person I met in Cafe Grumpy. What I wasn't prepare for was the fact that he's 24! TWENTY FOUR!! Can you believe that? I'd have probably said late 20s, but twenty four?? I'm gobsmacked he's so young and owns his own restaurant in New York. Mr. High Achiever

Given the age difference I'm slightly rethinking my decision to go over there this week, I mean, who am I, Demi Moore? Madonna? Miles????

Then again, cute men who show interest in me are few and far between, so maybe I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth...

The case of the clairvoyant cabbie

I had the weirdest exchange with a cabbie last night. About half way through my trip home, with not previously so much as a peep out of the man, he – Mustapha - starts chit chatting …

Mustapha: You look like your aunt
Me: My aunt???
Mustapha: Yes, don’t you have an aunt that you look like?
Me: Umm…Not really
Mustapha: Well, you look most like your father’s side of the family, but with a bit of your mom

All the aunts are on my father’s side, so it’s possible. To be honest I’ve never been able to work out who I look like, but stature wise I definitely take after the leprechauns on my father’s side of the family.

Mustapha: You also like to read a lot”
Me: Yes, I do read a lot”

True I do read a lot, but quite a generic psychic insight, but here’s where he got me…

Mustapha: And you have stomach problems
Me: Ummmmm, well yes I’ve had some problems with my stomach

I hadn’t farted if that’s what you are thinking, but my stomach has been a bit dodgy lately, acidic and irritated and just not happy. I blame it on overdoing the wine when out with Francesca last Sunday – I just cannot resist that lovely Sancerre they have at Momofuku Ssam.....and don't get me started on the pork buns. Mmmmm!!!

Mustapha: (triumphantly)You see!!!
Me: Serious stomach problems?

.....what on Earth was I doing asking HIM if my stomach problems were serious???? God forbid I see a Doctor, but the word of a psychic cabbie is another matter, since obviously the first thought that popped into my head when he said that was…’Oh my God I have stomach cancer’…not that I’m partial to hypochondria at all.

Mustapha: No, not serious, but if you drink too much wine, stop it.

Phew thank goodness it's not serious, and no, I wasn’t trollied after a night out on the lash in case you're assuming he knew I occasionally like to imbibe from the wine fumes emanating from my pores. It was a Monday for God’s sake, I’m not THAT bad. No, not a drop had passed my lips; I’d been working late.

Me: How do you know that?
Mustapha: It’s the…um…(says a word in Egyptian), y’know, we have a connection of our spirits

Spooky!! Or maybe not; perhaps he just assumed I suffered from a sour stomach since almost everyone in NY seems to have similar issues, what with drinking too much coffee, wine and what not.

He also told me I was ‘too pure of spirit for New York’ and that I should watch that ‘people don’t take advantage of me’, and then proceeded to try and persuade me to rent an apartment from him in New Jersey. Hmmm!!!