Well, I won't lie, this holiday has turned a funny shade of weird: Hilary is now in hospital. Yeah. Possibly with gout, or worse - lime disease. They don't even know yet. She's been there since Sunday and although I briefly felt sorry for myself as I spent my birthday on my own, in my hotel room, watching television, I managed to put things in perspective when she called from the clinic (she'd gone there without telling me) and said that they told her if she'd left it any longer, she might have lost her foot.
So I'm now on my own in NYC, seeing sights on my own, amusing myself, and visiting my sick friend in hospital. Hopefully she gets out today, though she probably won't be able to do much for the rest of the week. I just knew I shouldn't have looked forward to this trip so much.
I did get to see my first episode of Veronica Mars, but I have a feeling it was, like, the last in the season or something because there seemed to be a bunch of important revelations involved, but whatever. Logan is HOT.
On a more exciting note, the Hot Concierge took me out last night. We went to a movie - The Aristocrats; more on that in a sec - then wandered about for a bit. So. He is really, really sweet; 26; Pakistani, though has lived in NY for 8 years; beautiful mouth and gorgeous smile; he doesn't drink (!) because he was raised Muslim; studied business; lives in the hotel; and is, oh dear God, so boring. It was one of those - How the hell am I going to keep this conversation going, when the hell is this date going to end? - kind of evenings. And of course, *shakes head* of course, he now has a big crush on me. I let him hold my hand and I even let him kiss me when we said our goodbyes (so sue me, those lips were just asking for it), and then he called me twice and asked if he could see me (is he even allowed to have sex?) and, oh yeah, he thinks I'm hilarious because I use four syllable words like acclimatised. Hilary, get your ASS out of hospital NOW, because I would rather shoot myself in the head than spend another evening with the poor, sweet boy. I mean, damn it. I was hoping he was like some kind of hotel Lothario who seduces female guest all the time. I didn't want to be *special*.
Anyway, The Aristocrats. I am so pleased the Hot Concierge isn't easily offended, because this is definitely not a first date movie. And don't take your parents to it. And maybe avoid it if you're at all delicate and if the idea of a documentary about one joke told by comedians to comedians; one joke that has to be as filthy and offensive as humanly possible. And I'm talking incest, rape, raping your own children, shit, vomit, bestiality, racism, sexism, homophobia, sodomising Jesus, anything goes with this joke. If that's not your cup of tea, if the thought of Robin Williams and every other famous comedian you can think of telling this joke and talking about this joke doesn't appeal, stay away. For me? It is the funniest, funniest, laughing so hard I was crying and my nose was running, best, most brilliant film EVER, and I think everyone should see it and I LOVE IT SO MUCH. It's indescribable. It MUST BE SEEN. With Sin City it's my favourite film of the year. Favourite ever documentary. You would have to be a humour void not to love it, as far as I'm concerned. See it, see it, see it. Right now.
Okay, off to skim through my friends page and then off to explore more of New York and maybe meet some actually interesting people.