dancin' like she never danced before

a few weeks ago before school started and my commute became clogged with children carrying backpacks 4 times their size, koogs and hulk asked a few of us to come with them to the beach. because we are nice and didn't want them to feel like losers we said yes.

us on the beach looked like this:



notice how koogs' sandwich is practically in her lap but her mouth is already open? someone's hungry. . .



hulk sleepy. hulk used as base for japanese rock garden.

after napping and sunning with the appropriate spf 50 sunblock we headed back to the house for some gin & tonics and steak. . .but somehow in between the g&t and the red meat a dance party happened and we got to bizzzzness.



serious, serious bidness.



somewhere along the way miss n. became unhinged:







running man? roger rabbit?:



i threw in a few hip-hop yoga moves:



koogs got a little dirrrrrty:



but the real winner here is miss n. whose dress broke during the performance but she kept dancing anyway:



here's what was happening in the other room while miss n. was giving j.lo a run for her hard earned money:



don't worry -- we all came together in the end for the ceo's performance of the fresh prince of bel-air:






she's so hardcore. . .

as is this outfit:



oh, and the beach was awesome. i can't wait to see it again. . .next year.

bah, bah, bah-baaaaaaaah, ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba

a few weeks ago ms. mo told me to save the 22nd for mr. mo's birthday dinner. he was deciding between his favorite chinese restaurant and Mars 2112.

if you don't want to go to the website i understand -- let me be your guide.

i realized his b-day dinner was the same day as yom kippur so i couldn't really attend and when we discovered that he had decided on chinese for the celebration rogray and i volunteered to go with mr. & ms. mo for the Mars 2112 experience...as a birthday present of sorts. see how generous we are?

Mars 2112 is in times square. the location alone should really tell you everything.





oh, did i mention this is a mars themed restaurant? do i also need to tell you that brad brought maddox here a few months ago? that's right -- we hang with the celebs.

to get to the restaurant where the food is supposedly



you have to take a "ride" to the restaurant. here are the doors closing in on us:



we have lift-off people:



and asteroids:



this "ride" wasn't just a glorified elevator with a screen, oh no. it was a glorified sensory deprivation tank where you sit with a bunch of kids who look like they might crap themselves and watch crappy graphics while the floor shakes and tilts violently. it was enough to make us all light-headed and sick in the tummy - just what you need when you are about to eat.

when you're done being shaken like a martini you are thrust into this:



at least that's what it looked like to us. once our eyes adjusted you realize that you have actually been thrust into this:



oh my god!! it's mars!!

weird that the pathfinder only sent back pictures like this:



we sit down amidst the large groups of families and tourists and order our burgers despite the menu trying to convince us that a healthy option was vegetable linguini alfredo and our quickly greeted with not one, not two, but at least 8 different birthday celebrations. it was constant -- i've never heard the damn birthday song so many times -- especially with the word earthling in it.

and as an added bonus you are treated to martian "views" and "news updates" as well as musings from this guy:



inspired we decided to take some mars glamour shots:

ms. "the air is so thin!" mo:



mr. "i'm the birthday boy" mo:



"i'm stranded on mars!" shaygo:



and "you're seriously making me do this?" rogray:



as we left, full of martian burgers, i think we all agreed that we were happy to have made this intergalactic journey to the basement of a skyscraper on 51st & broadway but that perhaps it was best that mr. mo had decided to go for chinese on his birthday.

also, this is why i haven't been blogging so much lately -- i've been busy.