What. A. Weekend.

It was so great, in fact, that we are contemplating a new rule:

No more Friday nights.

By only going out to dinner or something small on a Friday, and then going to bed early--your chances of having an even better weekend increase times a million. This rule will probably be ammended as the weather gets better and better--but in the meantime, I may just give it a try.

Here is the itinerary of the weekend:

Friday:
Tribeca Film Festival for "The First Saturday in May" and afterparty (only out 'til 11ish, the new Friday night curfew)

Saturday:
Brunch at Flatbush Farm
Cherry Blossom Festival at the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens
Carosel Ride in Prospect Park
Paddle Boat ride in Prospect Park
Pulled Pork at Trout (summer weekend regular)
Bocce at Floyd
Tribeca Film Festival screening of Planet B-Boy
Smith Street bar hopping with friends
Karaoke (where we sang "The Wheels on the Bus")

Sunday:
Staten Island Ferry
Deninos Pizzeria ($7 pitchers! wahoo!)
Ralph's Famous Ice Cream
Ferry ride back
South Street Seaport
Jeremy's Ale House (huge styrofoam cups of beer for $5.75!)
Gowanus Yacht Club opening weekend

Pictures and video to come soon--things are CRAZY at work in preparation for the anticipated big week ahead. Here is Courtey's set.
WHEW!
Tonight I'm going to see "The King of Kong." Thanks, Matt!

And tomorrow, be sure to look in the NY Times Arts section! Wahoo!

(and PS: I make a cameo in this episode of news, and this was the most fun I've had shooting and watching thusfar--watch them now!)

Anne Pitoniak, an accomplished actress and UNCG Theatre Graduate passed away yesterday at the age of 85.

Hmm...I don't think it is a good sign that Elizabeth Edwards has yet to accept my friend request since April 6th.

Wheels featured in the NY Times blog, SCREENS.

(and stay tuned next week for something even bigger!)

What I did today...





picture day at black20.com on Vimeo

A tip to just about everyone.

If you have to use the bathroom--I advise NOT doing so in the office of an internet company. Especially one that makes funny videos. And etxra-especially NOT a day on which they are already filming.

Why?

Because this will happen.

Wow.
A couple left Hoboken yesterday to begin their 1000 day, non-stop sailing journey. They don't plan on even restocking, or docking for any sort of resupply along the way. Impossible? Probably. Neat story? You bet.
Look, I love nothing more than the wind in my hair, sun on my skin, a wench key in my pocket, and my hand at the helm of a boat--but this is almost too much of a good thing. Even so, it is admirable to see them attempt such a feat, and I wish them luck.
That, and let's hope she doesn't get preggers on the trip.
You can keep track of their adventures on their blog.

Thanks to the powers that be at CollegeHumor, the video I posted a few days ago is back! YAY!
Unreal.
Speaking of which, just a quick thanks to the Connected Ventures kids (parent of CollegeHumor, Busted Tees, Vimeo, etc)--for having an "office hang" party last night. They moved into a new, swank, gigantic office on Park Ave that is pretty durn amazing. One requirement of the party was memorizing the lyrics to "Flagpole Sitta" for a gigantic lip-dubbing video extravaganza. Mike and I walked in just as everyone started running, so sadly my participation was rather minimal (read: we watched it happen).
It was a fun night. Wii, beer pong, guitar hero, and new friendships and partnerships formed.
Yay.
Oh, an tomorrow night? In addition to Dennis' F-Google party/the return of NO DATA...I'm going to Saturday Night Live.
!!!
Another thing to scratch off my life list.
Holla!

since my other amazing clip was removed from YouTube--check this out...we couldn't get enough of it in the office today

and, thanks to friends at WebJunk.tv for finding this little gem.

amazing. god, i love the internet.

Friends on the move...

Dennis left Google/Dodgeball on Friday. It's all over the nerd news. Huge farewell party this Saturday night. (Hey, if leaving a job is a reason to have a party--I should have had more last year). Though it has been fun participating in various press for dodgeball, I have no doubt he is making the right move. Plus, after working for his brother now--I can vouch for the business decisions made by Crowley's.

A bit ago, new pal Chris moved to DC--despite me warning him that according to Sarah Vowell "Washington DC is New York for ugly people."

Later this week (maybe?) Pete leaves (again) on his cross-country trip on his new motorcylce (riding on it I felt like a badass, but doubt it looked that way). He tried leaving last week, but his man skin could barely tolerate the cold as he crossed the GW Bridge--and he came back. Here is a link to his itinerary, if you are on the way--offer up your couch/guest room.

Youngna has been in Bolivia on a Fulbright Scholarship--and has somehow found places with an internet connection to update her flickr and blog. She has a way to make even the most simple or mundane moments sound and look poignant. In general, check her out.

And, in a few weeks, I am finally cheating on New York for a bonafide vacation to Florida with a group of friends. Trying to work out going to Texas to see Andy, too--either directly after that trip, or sometime this summer. Donations accepted.

Years ago when I had cable, Comedy Central was basically all I watched. Trigger Happy TV was a favorite of mine--the sketches were clever and ridiculous and I loved them. With one exception.

The sad penguin.

All it was, was just that. A guy in a sad penguin costume. He would go to the park, or sit on a bench, or go to the grocery store. But he was sad.
It made me cry.
Something about it just got me.
To make matters worse, my boyfriend at the time would do an impersonation of the sad penguin--and THAT would make me cry.
It just broke my heart.
Today, a video was up on the frontpage of vimeo entitled "Sad Penguin." And with a hesitant click on the clip I watched an animated video to accompany a song written called...(wait for it!) Sad Penguin.
I didn't cry watching it...whew! Turns out the song was inspired by the penguin from Trigger Happy.

I just listened to "Fake Empire," from the soon-to-be-released new album from my f-f-f-favorite band, The National.
It basically gave me an orgasm, chills, and made me vomit from the amazingness...and that is just ONE SONG!
To think they may top Alligator absolutely blows me away. Jesus Christ, I am so pumped.

Well, kids--it has finally happened. The article about all of us has FINALLY hit the shelves in GLAMOUR Magazine Italy. Go grab a copy at a news stand--or, just feel free to look at the pictures/read the article here.

The story was done back in November. Basically, it is about our group of friends (and kids today in general), social networking, and having our lives broadcast on the internet.

If you don't know Italian (or even if you do) one thing I am glad they included is a quote I said about privacy. The woman asked me if I felt weird having everything about me broadcast for the world to see, and I told her that I am still in control of my privacy. Granted, I think there are some things I could easily be more private over (wacky job history in the last year)--and some things that I think make no sense on keeping private (entire profiles).

The thing is...yes--some of the mystery of getting to know someone is taken away by having so much of ourselves filled out in neat little profiles...but, at the same time anyone out there crazy enough to think they can find out all my secrets through the web is just that: crazy. As open as I am about so so much--I am not my profile, nor am I this blog--and dig all you want to try and figure me out by reading through it all, but it isn't really me. (And frankly, if you want to know something--feel free to ask!)

Is it also strange that my friends and I text our way around town with mobile social networking? Maybe. But it sure as hell is fun, and it sure as hell makes getting together so much easier. And, we even welcome nights at the MoMA with a private party dedicated to NOT being on your phone.

It was about a year ago when I was officially swept into a whirlwind of meeting this increadible group of people I now have surrounding me daily. Some of them were even people I had read about in the paper, or online--before actually meeting them. Exactly how it all happened is a much longer story filled with more six degrees connections than my brain can handle... But the people in this article (and many others not included) inspire me every single day. To be a better person than I was yesterday. To work harder. To live well.

Having part of my life exist online is one thing. Actually living my life? That is another. And, between you and me...the 3-D version is much more fun.

Courtney claims the following will be my Christmas present...

Karmasheetra.

This is the only time I've wanted December to get here sooner.

Yes, I know--things have been heavy on the video side on here. But, here is another video via Dennis via/with a number of other people/places/friends. It was for Dealbreaker.com, where Carney works--and is a fake recruitment video. Jesus, it cracks me up. Just ridiculous. It is well worth watching for so so so many reasons.

Things I find very depressing in the grocery store:
Generic Easy Mac
Bagged Cereal
Jewish Food

Guess I have videos on the brain...huh, wonder why?

The trailer for SuperBad looks SuperCute. In addition to loving smart high school satires, I la-la-love Michael Cera.

Speaking of Michael Cera--did you know that Arrested Development is available for free online? (First season, at least)

Speaking of Arrested Development--west coast pal Henry is in a film called "Beach Party at the Threshold of Hell" with Tony Hale (Buster on Arrested Development), and a crapload of others. It just got distribution with National Lampoons, which is huge! Yay! Click on the link above to visit the movie's myspace, and watch the trailer.

Speaking of myspace...I am now MySpace friends with the one and only John Edwards... Watched some of his campaign videos the other day--and by golly--if you don't weep from even just the first segment, then I just don't know what to tell you. What an uplifting piece of work he is. I know I am long overdue in talking about politics on here (the '04 election was a hearty time on jumbo shrimp)--but whilst I form that post--take a few minutes to watch his videos.

Speaking of...well, all of this...About a week ago, Sarah Simmons [my cuz!] was nice enough to take me to go see "The Great World of Sound" at Lincoln Center for the HBO new Director's festival. Directed by her friend, and fellow southerner Craig Zobel--I was truly blown away. I cannot reccomend this movie enough. Filmed in Charlotte, it is a docu-drama about song sharking. It is so smart, so sharp, and so lyrical. Find a way to see this movie as soon as you can. Plus, go visit the deliciously campy website. Fucking. Genius. Here is an interview with Craig from 2004 (he looks like my old friend Grant).

Ok...that is about it. I have hyperlinked the shit out of this post, eh? Click on all of them, you blog stalking slackers! ;)

Since Easter is this weekend, (and I wanted to include one more shameless plug for my job) for your viewing pleasure, please watch this video: The Easter Bunny Hates You.

A monumentally huge viral success seen by millions, this video is part of what inspired the guys to start their own original broadband network (of which I am now an official part).

It is hilarious.

Thanks guys, working here is a blast. Let's keep it up.

Wahoo! Lowbrow/Brilliant!
NYMag Approval Matrix.

(large version here, courtesy of Dennis)

For anyone wondering how my brain works, or why I make some of the decisions I do...here is a story that should give some insight...

_____________________________________

A few years ago, I worked in beer sales. Not for some huge company—but for a distributor of over 300 domestic and imported specialty beers. Microbrews. Beer that you don’t really chug after mowing the lawn, but some that tasted like lawn clippings. Beer that was meant to be paired with veal parmesan, rather than food that ended in “itos.” The little guys.

I sold this beer in what was regarded by the company as the worst territory—Lower Manhattan. At the time, it was just two years after the attack on the World Trade Center. The neighborhood was building itself back up, slowly. It had low volume in sales, and in prospects. I spent my days walking into struggling Irish Pubs directly south of Ground Zero to sell beer made by monks at $200 for a 1/3 keg. It was nearly impossible, and I was often laughed at by red-cheeked fat men sitting at the bar who eavesdropped on my pitch. I climbed down many a creaky staircase in delis, and interrupted poker games with the staff—explaining in broken Spanish to Rodrigo why he should fork over $40 per case of my chocolate beer, and he would roll his eyes and point to the stacks of free Corona given to him by a rival company. I often ran into other sales reps from more successful companies (usually thick-necked men) who has flashy embroidered totes, and fancy phones—who would scoff at me about how they were amazed I could afford lunch, "Oh, you work for them? Wow, what are you thinking? Eesh."

Finding myself with niche products and a terrible market was not easy. But in whatever way I could, I would find a way to succeed. I would press further. I would smile. I would make jokes. I would flirt. I would network. I would make friends. I pounded the pavement. And yes, I even dated a sommelier/fromager on my route. I stuck with it using whatever means possible because I loved good beer, and I wanted others to experience it too. I believed in it. Sure, I could have taken a job somewhere else and made more money—but I felt in my gut that it was going to turn out great. That somehow I would make a dent by shaking my fist, and sticking up for the underdog.

About a year into the job, some guys started a microbrewery based in an industrial area of Brooklyn. With little money to spare, the guys who started it ran everything themselves. They made it, sold it, ran a website, opened a bar, gave tours, handed out schwag with their logo on it—literally everything was done on their own. They had a goofy name that required a lengthy explanation as to its origin—and we all kept mispronouncing it. Our company was to spearhead the launch of this new beer made by a couple of nobodies. Woop-dee-friggin-doo. Everyone complained because there was no incentive for us to sell this product whatsoever. They didn’t have any money to give us for new draught lines, or trips we could win, or even spare t-shirts—nothing. Hell, they didn't even have their own tap handles. I was about to join in the complaint festival—when I took my first sip. I was blown away. It was damn good beer—and I knew I wanted everyone on the planet to try it.

As luck would have it, I ended up selling more of that beer than anyone in the company. My love of the product overshadowed my need for extra incentives or money to sell it. In our weekly staff meeting my boss turned to me and asked “Fiorilli, what’s the deal? How are you selling more of this than anyone?” I explained that I didn’t care if the dudes who ran the place seemed crazy for taking the risk of starting yet another microbrewery. I didn’t care if the guys themselves were, in fact, a little odd. I didn’t care about any of that—because their beer was so goddamn good. The product spoke for itself. And when I see or try something good—I want to be a part of it, and want everyone else to try it too.

Each time I go into a bar and see they have it on tap—my heart warms just a little bit, because I know that I had a part in turning something that seemed doomed for failure into what is now turning a profit. It warms even more when I hear someone order a pint, and see them enjoy each sip. I have a secret party in my brain, knowing that I helped the little guys. Everyone in my brain raises their glass, we clink them together, and yell “hooray!”

I saw something I liked, and despite all the doubt from everyone on the planet, and all the factors against me—I helped make it into a successful business.

Cheers.

Well, it has been a fun 3 1/2 years, New York.

Witchita, Kansas--here I come.

(happy april 1st!)