Some people say that Matt looks like him...

I find it interesting that the biggest response I've ever gotten to a post is about a grammar question. Nerds.

Date night! Yes, I took a day off from editing (well, most of a day) and got myself out of the house. Went shopping (Angel Street Thrift Shop had a pair of Theory trousers for $5! That's a find-and-a-half right there, folks.) and got some pants hemmed. (Eh.) On date night we do the whole dinner-and-a-movie thing so I decided to get myself prettified and go for a mani-pedi. (Miss Moo made me reevaluate the state of my extremities after her glorious scrub 'n paint.) So I decided on a place that I pass every day. It's clean and nice, the ladies look like the do some yummy massagy stuff - plus it's date night. I'm ready to splurge.

This place was fancy. Flowers and lemons in the soaking water. (Nice!) Do I want some tea? (Why yes I do!) There was even a gigantic bowl of miniature Luna bars. There was a skinny, Vuitton-toting girl next to me who was surgically attached to her cell, yammering in a Russian/English hybrid about her next vacation. ("It's not like I'm asking him to spend $10,000 on a vacation." After that, all I was able to make out were the words "Paris", "Four Seasons" and "Key West is closer to Mexico". ) The pedi was fine, but why is it that I never, never, ever seem to get the lady who likes to massage? People next to me are getting rubbed like it's their last day on Earth. Me? Nothin'! Same at my wedding - one of the other girls got this huuuge massage while I - THE BRIDE - got a sander taken to her foot. (I wish I was speaking euphemistically.) Since it's widely known that I have the ugliest feet around (thanks to years spent in pointe shoes) I decided to forego polish and just get my nails buffed. Plus I figured it'd save a few bucks. Then we headed to the manicure station. "Would you like to pay now?" Sure! What's the damange?

$51.

FIFTY-ONE BUCKS! That's not counting the 20% tip that I, as a service industry professional, know to give. SIXTY-ONE BUCKS! People, please. I refuse to pay that much for pants! They actually charged me $5 for not using polish. Most New York women get this done every two weeks! THAT'S LIKE A MILLION DOLLARS A MONTH! Seriously, I was steamed. As I left I marched over to that Luna bar bowl and took two of 'em.

Luckily the movie saved the day. If The Matador is playing where you live, run! (Towards it, I mean. I was good.) I haven't laughed that hard in a long time. Fuck the Bond franchise - Pierce Brosnan comes out of this thing smelling like a whisky-soaked rose. My familiarity with his oeurvre is limited (although I'm sure Nadia could catch me up on his Remington Steele years). He's fantastic and the movie is weird and fun. Two (well buffed) thumbs up!