You can't put a movie in the freezer

What a bizarre weekend. I stayed out late both nights and am now completely exhausted even though I had not a single drink. I'm old! Old and cranky. All I want to do is stay in bed and read my New Yorker. Yet somehow I dragged my ass to the stairsand flogged myself for 11 sets. The stairs are always good entertainment. Everyone is sweaty and in pain, and they all want to go at their own pace, which is hard when the place is crowded. Sometimes people are chatty but for the most part everyone keeps their heads down (unless, of course, they're gasping for air.) I always wonder what the zillionaires on Adelaide St. think of the schvitzing hordes that loiter in front of their homes.

Saturday night I met friends for a late dinner at Rocca on 4th St. (Celebrity sighting: Jamie Lee Curtis and Christopher Guest on their way out of the restaurant as we came in. Jamie Lee looks *great* and was very nice.) Excellent food! There's nothing like good gnocchi. South Beach diet be damned--pasta is yummy shit.

Sunday I went to Amoeba with Higgypiggy. After browsing the music racks, we hit Toast for lunch. Talk about scenes! Toast is the perfect place to eat diabetes-inducing cupcakes and watch actor/actress-wannabes mingle with Hollywood wives whose expensive plastic surgeries didn't turn out as well as planned. If you're in the mood to be snarky, Toast is the perfect place to go.

Fans of "28 Days Later" will understand why I am now terrified of going in my building's dark, dank laundry room. I made the mistake of watching the movie while I was home alone (the cat does not count) and doing laundry. Note to self: do not watch scary movies when home alone. Should have learned that lesson when I read The Shining by flashlight during a thunderstorm. BAD IDEA. It makes me think of the episode of Friends where Joey puts gets scared while he's reading The Shining, so he puts the book in the freezer when he's not reading because the monsters can't get him if the book is in the freezer. BRILLIANT.