Flashing lights

So the cab that drove me home got pulled over by a cop on a motorcycle. My cab driver was fined some sort of ticket for speeding on the highway, but the cop was kind of sort of patronizing. I have to admit that I sided with my cabby (not only because I really wanted to get home ASAP) and I felt like the cop was really on the rude side. In any case, it took me approximately 15 minutes longer to get home than normal. But I may have fallen asleep a little bit while the cabby politely provided the information that Mr. Cop requested.

Super Saturday

My grad school alma mater hosts an event called "Super Saturday" where prospective students come on campus to learn more about the program, take a tour and subject themselves to an interview. As an alumnus, I volunteered to return to campus today and grill two prospective students and appear on a career panel to address the group of applicants.

Sadly, I was not really excited about either of my interviewees. One hadn't done his homework and didn't seem to know what was special or unique about the program while the other one's mouth made a weird smacking noise when she talked. She was also kind of dullsville.

But it was good to return for the day even if I wasn't allowed to wear jeans and I had to tuck in my shirt. On a Saturday!

Celeb sighting: Melrose Place

So, this probably doesn't technically qualify as a sighting since VALedictorian and I purposefully purchased tickets to see The Scene, a play starring Daphne Zuniga (Jo from Melrose!). I'm pleased to report that Daphne looked quite pretty even though the play was pretty lame.

We saw it in one of those intimate "theatres" which seated fewer than 200 people so we did manage to get up close and personal. The other actors weren't nearly as exciting as Daphne, but the blonde girl was quite good as a sexy social climber.

Bombed baristas

I was hanging out with Turtle last night, enjoying some libations and watching music videos, when I ran into one of the fellows that works at my neighborhood Starbucks. This slip of a man - I would approximate that he weighs 90 pounds soaking wet - was trashed. He screeched my name and tried to hug me, but in so doing, he spilled my drink and got a little damp. Then he furrowed his brow and stormed off.

Later, an ex-bf of one of Blanca's former flings - and some sort of manager for Starbucks - also arrived wasted. He was barely making sense and searching high and low for a potential conquest. In particular, he kept wondering where Dyson was.

When the two coffee comrades met, it was sort of a trainwreck. They were talking shop, trying to stand upright, bumping into people left and right, making faces that alternated between elated and angry. It was a good opportunity for me to quietly slide away.

Whether or not we can make you a supermodel is now in the hands of America

Niki Taylor and Tyson Beckford host a show that I'm a bit ashamed to admit that I'm watching: Make Me a Supermodel. In it, pretty boys and girls compete to become a "supermodel" through many challenges that are less interesting than the ones on America's Next Top Model. Then, the judges put three of the week's worst performers up for a vote and "America" madly sends text messages or calls in to vote for their favorite contestant.

It's no shocker that all the girls are being voted off. Who else but ladies and gays is watching this show? And I do wonder how many people actually vote. That is, besides the contestants' families and friends.

In any case, the show remains a moderately entertaining piece of fluff, but I think it would be more interesting if the "models" voted each other off the show. The ensuing backstabbing and bitchery might make for classic television and intra-household tension.

I'm going to die of barfness

So Project Runway crowned Christian Siriano as its winner last night and I can't say that I'm surprised. The pocket gay really did pull off some stunning looks even though I thought his final collection where the Pirates of the Caribbean met soft-serve ice cream met '70s tuxedo shirt was a bit much. I preferred Rami Kashou's drapey gowns, but what do I know? I'm not Nina Garcia, fashion editor of Elle magazine.

I have to admit that I sort of fell asleep in the middle of the episode, but that's probably because I had been celebrating Wednesday with Roommates A&J, Mahogany Sparkle, Dyson, GarGar, PorkChop, Selives and Beetle.

Homework

I spent this morning working from home because I didn't want to be interrupted while writing performance reviews. So after I wrote a draft, I decided to run some quick errands and ruminate over what I had committed to paper.

During my excursion in the beautiful SF sun, I dropped off my dry cleaning and ran into Beetle who was similarly enjoying the sunshine and making the most of the morning hours. I picked up a package from the post office and when I returned home, I ripped it open. Inside was a book - and more importantly - a set of DVDs. The complete first (and only) season of Grosse Pointe had arrived! I'm thrilled to revisit this show ... and Al Santos!