"The What's Left of Me" Nick Lachey Challenge!

The summer is heating up as it winds down. To celebrate, NYCBABYLON is hosting the "What's Left of Me Challenge." The competition involves actually seducing and making out with someone to the Nick Lachey song, "What's Left of Me." The rules are as follows:

1. The person cannot know that your seduction is part of this competition or read this blog. You must sincerely put on the song "What's Left of Me" by Nick Lachey and try to get the unsuspecting person to make out with you as a result of feeling the passion in this song.
2. You cannot already be making out and put on "What's Left of Me." This song must serve as the catalyst for romance.
3. You cannot mention Nick Lachey or this song to the person 24 hours prior to your makeout attempt.
4. You cannot play any Ashley or Jessica Simpson song for this person 24 hours prior to the makeout attempt.
5. You cannot have any Proactiv on your face.
6. You cannot be watching Entertainment Tonight during the time of makeout.

You can enter through the comment box by giving full details of your seduction. Most honest and best story wins the Summer NYCBABYLON CD!

To get yourself in the mood, here's the video!



Good luck!

Where Everybody Knows My Name

I had the realization that I'm a minor celebrity in my neighborhood. Everyone knows my name, but the real sign of fame is that I don't know anyone else's name. This is what it is like to be a neighborhood celeb:

1. When I went to Radio Shack tonight to buy some batteries, the salesman said, "Hi, Rachel."
2. When I took my mother to the Indian restaurant across the street, the owner told her that we were "very good friends" and gave us the best table by the fan.
3. The guy who answers the phone at Golden Woks didn't even ask me my apartment number when I called for delivery and said my name. He knew who I was.
4. The owner of one of the boutiques on Bleeker told me she likes my new hair color. I haven't seen her in months and rarely shop there.
5. I didn't have cash at the drycleaner and the woman there told I could pay her the next time I came in to drop stuff off. She said, "I know you!"
6. Mexicans on the block always know my name without even being introduced to me.
7. The tailor hemmed my pants on the spot. She usually makes customers wait three days.
8. The lady at the nail salon gave me five extra minutes of free foot massage and asked me about MJ Cat. I actually know her name. It's Cindy.

I love local fame!

You Don't Bring Her Flowers...

The Bus Stopcast

Even though the gods are crazy, even though the stars are blind,
Todd and Rachel podcast from a Bus Stop this time...

Other lyrical musings include:

• How our wedding date almost didn't happen.

• How to avoid getting on a bus, while waiting for a bus.

• Scary people hang out at bus stops.

• Our favorite other vanity songs (not actually by Vanity).

• Another interview with someone who's kinda famous.


As always, this, and EVERY, BEWARE OF THE BABYLON podcast can be automatically downloaded to your computer and transferred to your iPod through iTunes.

Whatever Happened to Class?

Rather than get threatened with a lawsuit, I will just quote the great Kander and Ebb in regards to the above photo.

Ah, there ain't no gentlemen
To open up the doors
There ain't no ladies now,
There's only pigs and whores
And even kids'll knock ya down
So's they can pass
Nobody's got no class!

Carted Off

Today, my office neighbor disappeared from The Bank. I just told my mother that someone was "carted off" from The Bank and she asked me if "carted off" was an official banking term like "reorg." She also said that my sister uses the term "partnering" and that is also a madeup word. I told her that "carted off" was not an official banking term, but that when you are fired from the bank, you must leave immediately and are "carted off" by a security guard. I was upset about this all day, and was just about to blog about the situation when I noticed that ANP already posted the story in her blog. I also noticed that she uses the term "carted someone away." So perhaps "carted off" is a banking term. In any case, here is her report:

They carted someone away from The Bank today. No drama; no jack-booted thugs. Just a quick "I'm so sorry I can't say goodbye to all of you personally" email from a woman whose cute skirt I had complimented just hours before.


Happier times

And then she was gone.

All of this was made more confusing by the fact that her name was scrolling during the big town hall offsite meeting powerpoint, heralding her as one of the newest members of our team.

Since 90% of what 90% of the people at The Bank do is simply diagram plays yet not actually run any of them (diatribe against what I like to call "Running The Baseline" forthcoming), the office was atwitter with allegations, lies, and other things that none of us could prove.

Did she fail her piss test like that other dude who got booted off the CFO team?
Did she lie about graduating from college?
Did she get arrested and not mention it on her employment application?

(I didn't, but the judge told me not to; I had to come up with the "this was supposed to be expunged" paperwork and it was all good.)

It seems it might have been more complicated than all of that and related to the fact that we work at The Bank. They gave me weeks to come up with my arrest paperwork; they didn't cart me away instantly.

All I know is that I feel sad and I wish that whatever happened, my former colleague had been in a place where she could have been upfront about whatever it is that came up during her background check. I feel badly that she was so ashamed about it that she pretended it didn't exist and did not disclose.

And even though I ran over and gave her a big hug the second I read her email and just before she left the 31st floor forever, I wish I could give her another one.

I still have the nice card she gave me to congratulate me for the debut of my one woman show. She had just started as a consultant then.

* sigh *

Well, shucks.

The upside for everyone not equal to her is that we're now hiring for her replacement.

* sigh *

For the record, I've never been arrested.

Two-Faced Pussy

I would love to have a geek cat like this. I hope Frank/Louie is alive somewhere!

White Guy Rap

As you know, I've been going to thousands of weddings this summer. Check out this video that Todd made documenting how the WASPS partied last weekend at the Greenwich Country Club.

Madonna

This is the opening of the Madonna concert when I nearly had a heart attack from the anticipation of Madonna erupting out of the disco ball.

Malan Is Out!

I was very sad to see the best personality Malan Breton get voted off Project Runway during this season's SECOND episode! I wanted to get to know more about Malan and his fake accent. I was sad for him when he cried as he left the workroom. In any case, I think Michael from Atlanta is the man to beat!

Magic Eraser

I've been out of the office the past couple of days because they ran out of power in Queens and told us to go home. To take advantage of my free time, I've experimented all over the apartment with the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser. The Magic Eraser is the best cleaning product EVER. It's even better than Soft Scrub. It cleans walls, grease, shoe scuffs, etc. I am not joking. GO GET SOME OF THESE!

I Confess

Today, I woke up sad knowing that I was missing my chance to see Madonna at Madison Square Garden tonight. After work, I braved the heat and stood in front of the stadium and loudly exclaimed, "Does anyone have a single ticket?" A man appeared and told me had one ticket because his buddy didn't show up. Before I could say "lucky star," Madonna erupted before me out a big disco ball. When she came out on the crucifix, I almost had a heart attack. Every time I see Madonna, I have this moment of clarity. This time, I realized that I am going to stop being a control freak for the summer and have some fun.

A Lot

Over the past few months, I've been arguing with coworkers regarding the two words "a lot." I am always shocked that educated people use the word "alot" in business emails. Perhaps this common spelling error began because there does exist in English a word spelled "allot" which is a verb meaning to apportion or grant. The correct form, with "a" and "lot" separated by a space is perhaps not often encountered in print because formal writers usually use other expressions such as "a great deal," "often," etc. If you can't remember the rule, just remind yourself that just as you wouldn't write "alittle" you shouldn't write "alot."

Coworkers continue to argue with me that this simple spelling rule is now up for debate and that "alot" is now completely acceptable. I, however, cannot find evidence that "alot" has been fully accepted as a word in the English language. I would never hire someone who uses the word "alot" and I would probably not date someone who thinks "alot" is one word. I don't reply to myspace friend requests who use the word "alot" in profiles.

Friends tell me this is crazy, but I think that the inability to remember this simple rule of English grammar can indicate other personality problems. These problems include the following:
-inability to take direction
-poor listening skills
-laziness
-low IQ
-general moron
-lack of ambition
-brain damage from too much drug use

In my review last week, I was directed that I need to be more tolerant of morons at work. I am using this post to help my readers know that I am not alone in this intolerance towards this spelling error. Poor spelling can turn off potential suitors and employers.

The Ghosts of Christmas Past

So, tonight as I was on my way to meet a date for drinks in the horrible Meat Packing district, I walked straight into an ex and his very pregnant wife. I don't know if this was a good sign or a bad sign for the date about to happen and I'm not quite sure how the date even went, other than that he was sexy as hell yet kind of awkward. Actually, he looked like Viggo Mortensen, and he had a 100% chance if he made an actual move. The date, however, ended awkwardly with a shoulder tap and a "I'll call you," which is never a good sign that I will see a guy again. Then, I ran into my old boss who once made me cry, but he seemed glad to see me and bought me an ice cream cone at Cones. I don't know if this is a good or bad sign, but I have my mid-year review tomorrow and I hate receiving corporate "feedback" as I just want to do my job and go home and not spend time talking about "how I'm doing" at work, because frankly, I'm doing all I can and don't feel like discussing it in a conference room. Why is it when you want feedback you can't get it and when you don't, they put it in an official file?

Is it Real or is it Memorex?

OK, last Spring I bought this DVF dress which is now completely sold out. Today at work, I actually saw some woman wearing it in the cafeteria which I thought was a little odd because she didn't look a DVF type, and the dress is a little much for the office. Anyway, I complimented her on her good taste and told her I had scored the same dress. She replied, "Don't you just love Forever 21?" Up until this moment, I actually did love Forevever 21 for it's designer copies. That was until, I saw someone wearing a copy of my designer dress that I purchased at full price at Saks.

TV Tuesday

I am watching terrible Tuesday TV and was forced to see someone I hoped I would never see again for the rest of my life. And that person is Mike "Boogie" Malin. I didn't mean to watch Big Brother 7, but before I got to turn the channel I saw some broad wearing my DVF polka dot dress and then I was face to face with the most annoying person ever on reality TV. I can't begin to tell you how much I hated Mike Boogie in Big Brother 2 and I stopped watching after that season and I hoped that I would never even have to think about that fake LA wannabe ever again.

Now, I'm watching The World Series of Pop Culture which is the easiest game show ever. I could have won the title.

TV sucks in the summer. I wish I could go back in time and watch this fabulous Love Boat episode where Halston, Bob Mackie and Gloria Vanderbilt appeared as Guest Stars.

Muppets Loving Other Muppets

I'm not quite sure what to say about this other than the people that made this are crazier than me and Todd.

The Devil Wears Podcast

Rachel and Todd pay their dues recording a podcast any girl would die for a chance to be part of...

Listen and learn...

• What do muppets and night-time soaps have in common?

• Our first real fight over the podcast, dramatically re-enacted.

• Where did all the Furbies go?

• Why does Tom from MySpace need a new photo?

• And, as usual, Rachel speaks Martian. Again.

That's all.

As always, this, and EVERY, BEWARE OF THE BABYLON podcast can be automatically downloaded to your computer and transferred to your iPod through iTunes.

YouTube Catblog Friday

I wish I could toilet train MJ Cat like this. This video is better than anything I've seen on Wild Kingdom.

Nose Job!

Today, I met with my ENT who recommended that I get my "deviated septum" fixed. I actually have a severely deviated septum, but I'm not going to use the old deviated septum excuse to explain my upcoming surgery. The fact is, I'm having a nose job although my doctor didn't offer me any cosmetic changes. I'm wonding if perhaps I should call him and tell him that I want a nose like Catherine Zeta Jones or I should let him go in, fix the septum and hope for the best? Does anyone out there have advice?

Independence Day Wednesday

To celebrate the 4th of July, I pretended I was in Paris and visited the Girodet exhibit at the Met with my mother. According to the Met:

This is the first American retrospective devoted to A. L. Girodet-Trioson (1767-1824), a favored but rebellious pupil of Jacques-Louis David. Girodet's idiosyncratic style fuses Davi's Neoclassical ideal with his own prescient Romantic vision. A selection of approximately 100 paintings and works on paper reflects his originality and the diversity of his works, from mythological subjects to portraits and representations of Napoleon's military triumphs.

I don't know much about Girodet, but this exhibition was amazing and was much better than the Anglomania exhibit which brought me uptown in the first place. My favorite painting was The Sleep of Endymion, 1791. There was also a HUGE portrait of Napoleon which was fascinating. While other mothers and daughters sat quietly sketching the paintings, my mother asked me loud questions and disturbed the other patrons exclaiming,"I really don't know much about this kind of art." I told her to enjoy the air conditioning but she wanted to leave to go outside to smoke a cigarette. I wanted to go inside and visit the Susan Sontag tribute, but my mother preferred to sit on the steps and listen to the hysterical sermon of The Reverend Basiru A. Gbadamosi who was proselytizing in the 100 degree heat.
My mother found the Reverend much more entrancing than any exhibit at the Met and summarized his screaming sermon stating that she believes in a benevolent God and if God loves you, God really doesn't expect you to stand in front of the Met on a sweltering hot day wearing a three piece black suit while shouting the gospel at the top of your lungs to a bunch of foreign tourists. I agreed and took the Reverend's card which she asked me to give to her so that she could visit this dude's Web site because that would give her "something to do" when she got home. At first I thought this was sad, but since I'm blogging about the Reverend, I guess I can't make too much fun of her for this. After the Met, we had lunch at Viand and shared a turkey sandwich. My mother insists on sharing entrees because my sister always shares entrees with her to save money. This normally annoys me, but I'm trying to lose 10lbs. so I didn't argue with her this time. (When, however, I am over the age of 60 and start complaining about the size of restaurant entrees, please remind me that I am worth my own sandwich.) On the way home, as we were about to get on the subway, the turnstyle was broken and said "Go," but instead of just going, my mother switched turnstyles exclaiming it was broken. She swiped her card on another turnstyle rather than just walking through for the free trip. My God believes in that if the MTA is offering you a free trip, you should take it rather than spend the $2.00 on another entry. Don't get me wrong. I love my mother and she supports me in everything I do, but I have to say, sometimes it takes celebrating the 4th with your mom to appreciate the freedom you have after she goes home.