Went to see The Corporation last night after work. It was ok. Made me think about things and therefore made me extremely depressed. Made me feel like I have to take more responsibility for my life and what I dump down the sink at work. Made me feel like the world is a bad, bad, bad corporate jungle but we all need to have money, so it all makes sense. I miss the days when I felt like I didn't require money to be happy.
After the movie I went for drinks with Friend R From Work in the East Village. I don't know where we went. It's all a little foggy. It was slightly trippy because we walked by Certain Someone's apartment, and I went from thinking "Wow! This is all so new!" to being like "Wait a second.... I've been here a million times." I had a couple of cosmopolitans, which wasn't the best idea since I had a bagel for dinner.
When my second cosmo was finished, I decided to head back to Brooklyn. Walked myself back to the L, went down the stairs, and realized "Wait! I can't get IN TO the L!" Yes, folks, the L, my only way to get home, stops running at midnight. Who knew?
I ran into a girl who was also flabbergasted, so we decided to get a cab together. We tried to get a cab for a few minutes without luck, and finally managed to get one that we sort of stole from these two dudes across the street. They were pissed, so I was like "Dudes, where are you guys going?" They were going to basically where we were going, so the four of us shared a cab back to Brooklyn.
Those two dudes didn't know each other either, so it started out really awkwardly, but luckily one of the dudes was very talkative. Turns out he's directing a play and is originally from Boston, where his father is a biochemist at MIT. We chatted, and I asked him about how he made friends, and he's like "Random - just start going to a bar and you'll make friends, or you meet people in the back of cabs. You know. That's how you make friends."
He also said "Don't worry about it just yet. You are a young plant. You don't have roots yet. You can't. It's normal."
He also gave me his email and said "I'll get you tickets to the play. You should come. Email me."
Word. I emailed him, but I assume he will be like all men (well, I am comparing him to all straight men and he is not a straight man, but he is still a man!) and will not respond, but I figured I'd try.
So when we got into Williamsburg there was tons of traffic. Totally bizarre. There's never traffic in Williamsburg. And tons of hasidic men walking around. Tons. Insane amounts blocking traffic and causing traffic.
The silent dude in the cab, who turned out to be of Russian or something confused with Russian descent, said "There's a mass Jewish wedding tonight from midnight to 5 am. 1500 people getting married."
What?
Tons of traffic, so I ended up being dropped off fairly far from my apartment. And there were, seriously, swarms of hasidic men on all the streets at 1 am. No women anywhere. Just men for like 5 square blocks. And it was loud and alive and there were tons of buses blocking my apartment because apparently the buses were being parked at my building.
I was psychotically giggling during my entire walk home. Drunk tagged R but he didn't answer the phone, which made me mad, but I guess it was an hour after I'd left him in the East Village. It was just so funny, not because there's anything inherently funny about a mass wedding at 1 am in my neighborhood, but because this is my life. I now live in a place where I get lost and take cabs with complete strangers and then encounter mass weddings at 1 am on a Thursday and have nobody to share it with.
Life is getting good.
Friday, October 15, 2004
Thursday, October 14, 2004
Back To School
I went to class last night. It was difficult. Not the class itself, but the act of going-to-class. I haven't been to class in forever. Of course the normal issues of commitment-phobia came rushing to the surface. When people ask "Why don't you go back to school?" I usually blame issues of money or time or happiness. The truth is that I can't commit to anything for more than a day.
This particular class is an adult ed, non-credit class being offered through NYU. It is called "Comics as Literature." I chose this class specifically because it seemed non-committal (and also because it seemed cool!) - like how much dedication could it possibly take to read comics?
I got lost going there. Big surprise. I had a map and still got lost because W. Houston curved. NY is lovely because it is a grid but you take grid-ness for granted and just keep walking in the same direction when every now and then things become a triangle. Confusing.
NYU is surprisingly close to where I work, which will be lovely when it is snowing and I am feeling ultra-commitment-phobic about going to class.
And you will all be so proud of me - R from work said "The CMJ Music Marathon starts tonight - we should go to a show" to which I responded "Alas, no, I cannot, because I have class! And I am going to it! And there's nothing you or the Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players can do about it!" I'd have loved, though, to see Sonic Youth with MixMaster Mike, but there were no tickets. That show wouldn't have interfered with my being a good student. Hmph.
Class was cool. We get to read fabulous things like Watchmen and Sandman and other things. Also learned a bit about the history of comics, graphic novels, etc., and am inspired to, gasp, read more! School is cool! I like school! I think I will be doing more school in the future!!!
Never underestimate the benefits of having something regular and dependable to do, especially when you don't know anyone. I am jazzed about the next class. And not because the class is good - it's not - but because I am thrilled to have something regular in my life!
So yes. Class. There are 6 students. Me, a girl who reminds me of Jessica Simpson and who is taking this class because her job is making her (what would I give to have a job that forced me to take this class! yes!), a woman from NJ who works in HR and talks really fast and is very socially aggressive and talks and talks some more but seems nice, an older guy who has lots to say and knows everything but isn't obnoxious about it, a reluctant kid who works for Columbia House and a shy dude who is studying film at Columbia (he is my favorite, because he is
softspoken and dark and because I secretly hope he will write a movie about this class).
The teacher looked like a professor. Tweed jacket over turtleneck. He grew up in Boston in that time that bred people who wear jackets with elbow pads over turtlenecks and who have that more-proper-Boston-accent like my parents have. They say "hahlf" instead of "half." That kind.
After class, I walked with the girls to the subway. It was funny because they had no idea where they were going and I did! Yay grid! I was like "The subway stop is in this direction, gals!" It was funny because NJ/HR girl was complaining "I didn't think we'd have to do work in this class!" I suppose by do work she means read comics. God forbid. I was glad, though, that someone else couldn't commit to doing work. But seriously. Is it that stressful to read graphic novels? And she really thought we'd just go and listen?
It made me sad, though, because Watchmen is the best book ever and it would make me sad if she (or anyone) didn't read it when given the opportunity. I kept being like "No, dude, you have to read Watchmen though. Seriously. It's worth it." I must have sounded like such a dork, but whatever! She should read it!
(Sidenote: Before I moved I read Watchmen again after nearly 10 years to the minute from the first time I read it, and man, was it good again! I wrote a song called "Dr. Manhattan" that I never recorded, but now I shall be inspired and will put it on the blog soon! Yeah!)
I walked to the train with Jessica Simpson. She was nice and wearing very high pink high heels. Sadly she'd lost her metro card, though, and therefore couldn't get on the subway with me despite all her good intentions. Curses! The good news, though, is that she has to take this class for work so she will definitely be there next week. We will be able to chat. I will have human interaction. It will be marvelous.
After class I decided to check out an alleged open mic in Williamsburg, but it turned out to be a dreaded Singer/Songwriter Showcase from 8:30 - 10:30, f0llowed by open mic at 10:30. Open mics are good because there's a chance that there might be something good so you can convince yourself to sit through the bad. Bad singer/songwriter showcases are just bad bad bad. This one was bad bad bad and being listened to a bunch of hipsters about 1/2 my age who clapped politely and generally looked angsty. I was there for 1.5 songs and left hoping that America's Next Top Model was on at 9:00.
It wasn't. It was debate, baseball, or hip hop honors. It's all about hip hop honors. Roommate has taken to calling me "Puff Leah" and every time the people on the honors made a shout-out to anything New York related - Brooklyn, the Bronx, New York City, Union Square - we responded because they are obviously talking to us! We are especially proud of our neighbors The Beastie Boys.
And how awesome is Chuck D? Word.
This particular class is an adult ed, non-credit class being offered through NYU. It is called "Comics as Literature." I chose this class specifically because it seemed non-committal (and also because it seemed cool!) - like how much dedication could it possibly take to read comics?
I got lost going there. Big surprise. I had a map and still got lost because W. Houston curved. NY is lovely because it is a grid but you take grid-ness for granted and just keep walking in the same direction when every now and then things become a triangle. Confusing.
NYU is surprisingly close to where I work, which will be lovely when it is snowing and I am feeling ultra-commitment-phobic about going to class.
And you will all be so proud of me - R from work said "The CMJ Music Marathon starts tonight - we should go to a show" to which I responded "Alas, no, I cannot, because I have class! And I am going to it! And there's nothing you or the Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players can do about it!" I'd have loved, though, to see Sonic Youth with MixMaster Mike, but there were no tickets. That show wouldn't have interfered with my being a good student. Hmph.
Class was cool. We get to read fabulous things like Watchmen and Sandman and other things. Also learned a bit about the history of comics, graphic novels, etc., and am inspired to, gasp, read more! School is cool! I like school! I think I will be doing more school in the future!!!
Never underestimate the benefits of having something regular and dependable to do, especially when you don't know anyone. I am jazzed about the next class. And not because the class is good - it's not - but because I am thrilled to have something regular in my life!
So yes. Class. There are 6 students. Me, a girl who reminds me of Jessica Simpson and who is taking this class because her job is making her (what would I give to have a job that forced me to take this class! yes!), a woman from NJ who works in HR and talks really fast and is very socially aggressive and talks and talks some more but seems nice, an older guy who has lots to say and knows everything but isn't obnoxious about it, a reluctant kid who works for Columbia House and a shy dude who is studying film at Columbia (he is my favorite, because he is
softspoken and dark and because I secretly hope he will write a movie about this class).
The teacher looked like a professor. Tweed jacket over turtleneck. He grew up in Boston in that time that bred people who wear jackets with elbow pads over turtlenecks and who have that more-proper-Boston-accent like my parents have. They say "hahlf" instead of "half." That kind.
After class, I walked with the girls to the subway. It was funny because they had no idea where they were going and I did! Yay grid! I was like "The subway stop is in this direction, gals!" It was funny because NJ/HR girl was complaining "I didn't think we'd have to do work in this class!" I suppose by do work she means read comics. God forbid. I was glad, though, that someone else couldn't commit to doing work. But seriously. Is it that stressful to read graphic novels? And she really thought we'd just go and listen?
It made me sad, though, because Watchmen is the best book ever and it would make me sad if she (or anyone) didn't read it when given the opportunity. I kept being like "No, dude, you have to read Watchmen though. Seriously. It's worth it." I must have sounded like such a dork, but whatever! She should read it!
(Sidenote: Before I moved I read Watchmen again after nearly 10 years to the minute from the first time I read it, and man, was it good again! I wrote a song called "Dr. Manhattan" that I never recorded, but now I shall be inspired and will put it on the blog soon! Yeah!)
I walked to the train with Jessica Simpson. She was nice and wearing very high pink high heels. Sadly she'd lost her metro card, though, and therefore couldn't get on the subway with me despite all her good intentions. Curses! The good news, though, is that she has to take this class for work so she will definitely be there next week. We will be able to chat. I will have human interaction. It will be marvelous.
After class I decided to check out an alleged open mic in Williamsburg, but it turned out to be a dreaded Singer/Songwriter Showcase from 8:30 - 10:30, f0llowed by open mic at 10:30. Open mics are good because there's a chance that there might be something good so you can convince yourself to sit through the bad. Bad singer/songwriter showcases are just bad bad bad. This one was bad bad bad and being listened to a bunch of hipsters about 1/2 my age who clapped politely and generally looked angsty. I was there for 1.5 songs and left hoping that America's Next Top Model was on at 9:00.
It wasn't. It was debate, baseball, or hip hop honors. It's all about hip hop honors. Roommate has taken to calling me "Puff Leah" and every time the people on the honors made a shout-out to anything New York related - Brooklyn, the Bronx, New York City, Union Square - we responded because they are obviously talking to us! We are especially proud of our neighbors The Beastie Boys.
And how awesome is Chuck D? Word.
Wednesday, October 13, 2004
Criminally bad
I went to see Criminal last night.
Even the adorableness of Diego Luna (who, incidenally, is three years younger than me) was not enough to save this movie from being one of the worst movies I've ever seen.
Please do not see it.
That is all.
Even the adorableness of Diego Luna (who, incidenally, is three years younger than me) was not enough to save this movie from being one of the worst movies I've ever seen.
Please do not see it.
That is all.
Tuesday, October 12, 2004
Columbus Day Weekend Part Deux - The Birth of Hip Hop Anonymous
On Sunday LBF and I went for breakfast where LBF, who doesn’t like Bloody Marys, decided to try a Bloody Mary. Bad idea. I don’t know why anyone likes Bloody Marys, but that’s beside the point! We then headed back to The Loft to change outfits since all of a sudden it is winter and we were caught unprepared. From there we headed into Manhattan, where we had two goals: MTV Store and Accessories.
The MTV Store was a disappointment for LBF, who was expecting something much more dramatic. I was expecting Puffy to be there, but sadly, he was not. Mission Accessories, however, proved fruitful. LBF now owns the world’s most vast collection of purple accessories, including bracelets, necklaces, rings, and earrings. I now own about 7 pairs of earrings I don’t need as well as the world’s most fabulous sparkly pink wallet! Finally! Project Wallet, which has been ongoing for the past four years and I’m not kidding, has finally come to an end. I will never have to buy a wallet again!
After shopping in Soho, we thought “Hey, we’re hungry! Let’s go grab a quick slice of pizza in Little Italy!” HAH! You’d think it would be easy to get a quick slice of pizza in Little Italy, but no. Like everything in New York, this was a project. We finally found a place to get a slice of pizza after walking the entirety of Little Italy twice, but then it took them, like, 15 minutes to give us two freaking slices of cheese pizza. LBF was homicidal this time.
We then headed back to The Loft, where we primped for KARAOKE!!!!!!!!!!!
YIPEE!!!!!!!!!!!
One of the main reasons for LBF to visit on this particular weekend was karaoke. Hip hop karaoke, to be more precise. I’d seen this on a website when I first moved here. I thought “New York is heaven. They specifically have hip hop karaoke in my neighborhood on Sunday nights!”
We talked about Hip Hop Karaoke all day. As usual, I was neurotic. I was worried about many things – like what if people were really good? What if people could tell we were posers? What if there were no people? What if it was a Chinese food restaurant with only one guy doing hip hop karaoke? What if it was really intimidating? What if they could see right through us? Who would be there? What song would I do? What if I sucked? Etc.
LBF was more optimistic, and said “Leah, the people at hip hop karaoke will think we are goddesses by the time we’re through.”
LBF – glass-half-full attitude or completely unrealistic expectations? All I need to say is that it’s a good thing I’m neurotic (and Super Fly just has to deal with my being neurotic!).
We walked to the Chinese Restaurant, which, as far as I can tell, didn’t even have a sign. Then we walked in and there were no people. None. And also no karaoke. Then I noticed a stairwell. We walked down this stairwell into this red-lit den with a bar and maybe about 10 people sitting around drinking. We took off our coats and decided to get a drink, but there was no bartender.
Finally a bartender appeared and we ordered drinks. Perplexing, though, because hip hop karaoke allegedly began at 8:00 and it was, ahem, 10:30.
We made fun of the place for a while, partially because it was so awful and partially because we were, well, worried. Amidst our discussions, LBF said “Wait a second – I don’t see a monitor.”
Baffling. No monitor. But signs for karaoke.
Uh-huh.
You see, it’s not karaoke at all! It’s actually a real DJ! And you can do whatever song you want! And if you don’t know the words, they have the words printed out on sheets of paper! YEAH!!!!
In all my paranoid scenarios, I never once thought “Perhaps it will not be karaoke at all, and what it will be, instead, is actually more of a hip hop open mic night in which you are encouraged to do covers!”
LBF’s goddess dreams = shattered.
Now. This was disappointing for a variety of reasons. No hip hop karaoke. Plus, how weak is that? I could host hip hop karaoke and actually do a better job with my broken karaoke machine that doesn’t have video right now! Also, it’s not karaoke because you have to be good to do it. You have to know the song inside and out. Where’s the fun in that?!?!?!?!?
Luckily I am a paranoid idiot, and made backup karaoke plans.
Apparently, without having known it in advance, I moved to a building around the corner from the best karaoke bar I’ve ever been to.
Check out this website:
http://www.sidandbuddy.com/
Hosted by “Sid” who is the inexplicably irresistible combination of Beetlejuice and Vince Vaughan. I guess its good that I am rabid for an actual person. The show is great. The man can sing and play a mean inflatable guitar. There were a bunch of, well, regulars there who are zany and charming and supportive and actually good.
It’s fabulous because you actually do karaoke on a stage, rock-star-style, and he’s got TONS of reverb and a little echo on the mic so everyone sounds great.
LBF was amazing. During the day, she came up with her hip hop alter ego, Hip Hop Anonymous. She thinks this is the funniest thing she’s ever said. I’m not sure that I really get it, but I’ll support her. Sid called her up as Hip Hop Anonymous and she kicked ass – did a little LL, did a little Beasties, and the crowd adored her. They commended her “courage.”
I did “Somebody to Love” by Queen. Sort of a melodramatic choice, but I am feeling melodramatic lately. Plus, I think it’s a fitting song for this point in my life. I have no idea if it was good or not because I was having a nervous breakdown while doing it and am now suffering from post-traumatic-karaoke-stress-disorder. I had fun, though, especially being on stage. I do remember looking down and seeing people watching me, which is cool and also horrifying.
I am so going back this weekend, and am hoping that I too become a zany regular.
Karaoke. Around the corner from The Loft. Life is good.
The MTV Store was a disappointment for LBF, who was expecting something much more dramatic. I was expecting Puffy to be there, but sadly, he was not. Mission Accessories, however, proved fruitful. LBF now owns the world’s most vast collection of purple accessories, including bracelets, necklaces, rings, and earrings. I now own about 7 pairs of earrings I don’t need as well as the world’s most fabulous sparkly pink wallet! Finally! Project Wallet, which has been ongoing for the past four years and I’m not kidding, has finally come to an end. I will never have to buy a wallet again!
After shopping in Soho, we thought “Hey, we’re hungry! Let’s go grab a quick slice of pizza in Little Italy!” HAH! You’d think it would be easy to get a quick slice of pizza in Little Italy, but no. Like everything in New York, this was a project. We finally found a place to get a slice of pizza after walking the entirety of Little Italy twice, but then it took them, like, 15 minutes to give us two freaking slices of cheese pizza. LBF was homicidal this time.
We then headed back to The Loft, where we primped for KARAOKE!!!!!!!!!!!
YIPEE!!!!!!!!!!!
One of the main reasons for LBF to visit on this particular weekend was karaoke. Hip hop karaoke, to be more precise. I’d seen this on a website when I first moved here. I thought “New York is heaven. They specifically have hip hop karaoke in my neighborhood on Sunday nights!”
We talked about Hip Hop Karaoke all day. As usual, I was neurotic. I was worried about many things – like what if people were really good? What if people could tell we were posers? What if there were no people? What if it was a Chinese food restaurant with only one guy doing hip hop karaoke? What if it was really intimidating? What if they could see right through us? Who would be there? What song would I do? What if I sucked? Etc.
LBF was more optimistic, and said “Leah, the people at hip hop karaoke will think we are goddesses by the time we’re through.”
LBF – glass-half-full attitude or completely unrealistic expectations? All I need to say is that it’s a good thing I’m neurotic (and Super Fly just has to deal with my being neurotic!).
We walked to the Chinese Restaurant, which, as far as I can tell, didn’t even have a sign. Then we walked in and there were no people. None. And also no karaoke. Then I noticed a stairwell. We walked down this stairwell into this red-lit den with a bar and maybe about 10 people sitting around drinking. We took off our coats and decided to get a drink, but there was no bartender.
Finally a bartender appeared and we ordered drinks. Perplexing, though, because hip hop karaoke allegedly began at 8:00 and it was, ahem, 10:30.
We made fun of the place for a while, partially because it was so awful and partially because we were, well, worried. Amidst our discussions, LBF said “Wait a second – I don’t see a monitor.”
Baffling. No monitor. But signs for karaoke.
Uh-huh.
You see, it’s not karaoke at all! It’s actually a real DJ! And you can do whatever song you want! And if you don’t know the words, they have the words printed out on sheets of paper! YEAH!!!!
In all my paranoid scenarios, I never once thought “Perhaps it will not be karaoke at all, and what it will be, instead, is actually more of a hip hop open mic night in which you are encouraged to do covers!”
LBF’s goddess dreams = shattered.
Now. This was disappointing for a variety of reasons. No hip hop karaoke. Plus, how weak is that? I could host hip hop karaoke and actually do a better job with my broken karaoke machine that doesn’t have video right now! Also, it’s not karaoke because you have to be good to do it. You have to know the song inside and out. Where’s the fun in that?!?!?!?!?
Luckily I am a paranoid idiot, and made backup karaoke plans.
Apparently, without having known it in advance, I moved to a building around the corner from the best karaoke bar I’ve ever been to.
Check out this website:
http://www.sidandbuddy.com/
Hosted by “Sid” who is the inexplicably irresistible combination of Beetlejuice and Vince Vaughan. I guess its good that I am rabid for an actual person. The show is great. The man can sing and play a mean inflatable guitar. There were a bunch of, well, regulars there who are zany and charming and supportive and actually good.
It’s fabulous because you actually do karaoke on a stage, rock-star-style, and he’s got TONS of reverb and a little echo on the mic so everyone sounds great.
LBF was amazing. During the day, she came up with her hip hop alter ego, Hip Hop Anonymous. She thinks this is the funniest thing she’s ever said. I’m not sure that I really get it, but I’ll support her. Sid called her up as Hip Hop Anonymous and she kicked ass – did a little LL, did a little Beasties, and the crowd adored her. They commended her “courage.”
I did “Somebody to Love” by Queen. Sort of a melodramatic choice, but I am feeling melodramatic lately. Plus, I think it’s a fitting song for this point in my life. I have no idea if it was good or not because I was having a nervous breakdown while doing it and am now suffering from post-traumatic-karaoke-stress-disorder. I had fun, though, especially being on stage. I do remember looking down and seeing people watching me, which is cool and also horrifying.
I am so going back this weekend, and am hoping that I too become a zany regular.
Karaoke. Around the corner from The Loft. Life is good.
Columbus Day Weekend Part 1 - Super Fly says "There's no malice in here!"
My first long weekend in NYC has come and gone.
It started off with shopping on Broadway. Super Fly and I met up after work on Friday because I wanted to buy a yellow lamp for the living room and he wanted to buy a sequel to the Super Fly t-shirt for his brother. Super Fly ended up spending tons of money on things such as a shirt that said Bad Ass Mo Fo, a blue Chinese robe for his pimp daddy self, and these weird glowing balls. I can’t even describe them. When I have internet at home I will post a photo. They’re much cooler than they sound.
We grabbed some pizza and some alcohol and headed back to Williamsburg, where I watched the debate before going out for the night. Kerry kicked the crap out of Bush, who was super defensive. Of course, in typical and super annoying Super Fly fashion, Super Fly proceeded to get trashed while watching the debate, talked through the entire thing, and then started going off about how ridiculous a country America is. This annoyed me because Super Fly, as a non-American, has taken advantage of the American way of things more than anyone I’ve ever met, American or not. I got really defensive and pissed off, because it’s the age old analogy: I can make fun of my little brother but the second anybody else does I’ll go nuts. Thankfully Super Fly had other plans for the evening and hauled his drunk ass self out of my apartment to go meet some Irish Girl he’d met last time we were here in May, on the night that Super Fly was born. He left without his shoes. It was awshummm. I didn’t go out because, seriously, I felt like I might kill someone. There’s nothing I loathe more than being antagonized / annoyed in my own home. Thankfully I have more appealing drunk friends who happened to call me on Friday night during this ordeal, and thankfully I have sober friends who were home and who I called and who listened to me during this ordeal.
On Saturday morning my former LBF arrived for a visit! I was thrilled. I was especially happy to see her after having spent Friday night feeling homicidal. I grabbed some breakfast with Super Fly and LBF, after which we trolled around Williamsburg looking at vintage clothes that were all too big for me and exploring the area. We went back to The Loft and took naps, after which we went to Sea, which is the coolest Thai restaurant on the planet. Afterwards we went back to The Loft to primp.
We went to No Malice Palace in the East Village afterwards, which is my favorite bar on the planet. Gratitude towards Certain Someone for taking me there over a year ago. They play underground hip hop and the scene is very non-scenester. There wasn’t all that much material to work with, aside from this huge group of ex-frat boys who looked like they had beamed in from Boston. Not that I was interested in them, because, really, that was the whole point of leaving Boston, but LBF was all over that.
Had some interesting conversations with Super Fly there. I was drinking and getting moody and lonely and emo, and Super Fly was actually being supportive. He also confessed that he annoys me on purpose, which, well, annoyed me. But he can be so endearing, which is why we're still friends, and which is why I was happy to have him there when I was being emo. This didn't, however, prevent me from asking Super Fly to leave The Loft. The Loft just isn't big enough for Super Fly.
Super Fly says "You can't go wrong with black, unless it's dark blue."
It started off with shopping on Broadway. Super Fly and I met up after work on Friday because I wanted to buy a yellow lamp for the living room and he wanted to buy a sequel to the Super Fly t-shirt for his brother. Super Fly ended up spending tons of money on things such as a shirt that said Bad Ass Mo Fo, a blue Chinese robe for his pimp daddy self, and these weird glowing balls. I can’t even describe them. When I have internet at home I will post a photo. They’re much cooler than they sound.
We grabbed some pizza and some alcohol and headed back to Williamsburg, where I watched the debate before going out for the night. Kerry kicked the crap out of Bush, who was super defensive. Of course, in typical and super annoying Super Fly fashion, Super Fly proceeded to get trashed while watching the debate, talked through the entire thing, and then started going off about how ridiculous a country America is. This annoyed me because Super Fly, as a non-American, has taken advantage of the American way of things more than anyone I’ve ever met, American or not. I got really defensive and pissed off, because it’s the age old analogy: I can make fun of my little brother but the second anybody else does I’ll go nuts. Thankfully Super Fly had other plans for the evening and hauled his drunk ass self out of my apartment to go meet some Irish Girl he’d met last time we were here in May, on the night that Super Fly was born. He left without his shoes. It was awshummm. I didn’t go out because, seriously, I felt like I might kill someone. There’s nothing I loathe more than being antagonized / annoyed in my own home. Thankfully I have more appealing drunk friends who happened to call me on Friday night during this ordeal, and thankfully I have sober friends who were home and who I called and who listened to me during this ordeal.
On Saturday morning my former LBF arrived for a visit! I was thrilled. I was especially happy to see her after having spent Friday night feeling homicidal. I grabbed some breakfast with Super Fly and LBF, after which we trolled around Williamsburg looking at vintage clothes that were all too big for me and exploring the area. We went back to The Loft and took naps, after which we went to Sea, which is the coolest Thai restaurant on the planet. Afterwards we went back to The Loft to primp.
We went to No Malice Palace in the East Village afterwards, which is my favorite bar on the planet. Gratitude towards Certain Someone for taking me there over a year ago. They play underground hip hop and the scene is very non-scenester. There wasn’t all that much material to work with, aside from this huge group of ex-frat boys who looked like they had beamed in from Boston. Not that I was interested in them, because, really, that was the whole point of leaving Boston, but LBF was all over that.
Had some interesting conversations with Super Fly there. I was drinking and getting moody and lonely and emo, and Super Fly was actually being supportive. He also confessed that he annoys me on purpose, which, well, annoyed me. But he can be so endearing, which is why we're still friends, and which is why I was happy to have him there when I was being emo. This didn't, however, prevent me from asking Super Fly to leave The Loft. The Loft just isn't big enough for Super Fly.
Super Fly says "You can't go wrong with black, unless it's dark blue."
First Confused Moment
So I woke up at 3am last night and thought "Where am I?" And then I thought "Oh right, I live in NYC and I have to work in the morning."
Wtf?
Also, this morning I watched The Weather Channel for the first time, since I've still been unable to track down a weather hotline. I was watching Local on the 8's, and the first screen was split between BOSTON And NYC. Of course I looked at the Boston weather and thought "Whoa! It's going to be COLD today!" Heh. Luckily NYC is going to be 5 degrees warmer. Take that!
(Side note: The Weather Channel is totally advertising that Day After Tomorrow monstrosity because apparently it was about weather, and not Jake Gylenhaal's descent into lack of cred)
Finally, on the topic of celebrity crushes, Jude Law is everywhere and I am thrilled! I may have to see Alfie even though it looks bad because it has Jude Law and because it is about NYC.
Celebrity Crush Du Jour: Tie between Scott Weiland and Dave Navarro.
Dave Navarro - so adorable I can't handle it. I want what Carmen and Dave have. Then I can be happy. I was watching some god awful entertainment show like Extra last night so I could be melancholy about the death of Christopher Reeve and they had an interview with Dave. Yum.
Scott Weiland - rock starrrrr. I love him being all waify and snakey. I hate Fall to Pieces because it is very melodramatic and cheesy but is admittedly a good STP/GnR hybrid. Anyway, when I was watching The Weather Channel this morning I actually watched videos for a bit (I can't stop!), and saw the video for Fall to Pieces, which was even more melodramatic than the song itself. It had Scott Weiland acting. Point being, despite the high cheese quotient of the video I was still rabid for Scott Weiland. Absolutely rabid.
It occurs to me now that because I know noone and can't have a crush on anyone in my actual life, I have reverted to being fourteen and having crushes on celebrities. Word.
I will write about ce weekend soon-ish.
Wtf?
Also, this morning I watched The Weather Channel for the first time, since I've still been unable to track down a weather hotline. I was watching Local on the 8's, and the first screen was split between BOSTON And NYC. Of course I looked at the Boston weather and thought "Whoa! It's going to be COLD today!" Heh. Luckily NYC is going to be 5 degrees warmer. Take that!
(Side note: The Weather Channel is totally advertising that Day After Tomorrow monstrosity because apparently it was about weather, and not Jake Gylenhaal's descent into lack of cred)
Finally, on the topic of celebrity crushes, Jude Law is everywhere and I am thrilled! I may have to see Alfie even though it looks bad because it has Jude Law and because it is about NYC.
Celebrity Crush Du Jour: Tie between Scott Weiland and Dave Navarro.
Dave Navarro - so adorable I can't handle it. I want what Carmen and Dave have. Then I can be happy. I was watching some god awful entertainment show like Extra last night so I could be melancholy about the death of Christopher Reeve and they had an interview with Dave. Yum.
Scott Weiland - rock starrrrr. I love him being all waify and snakey. I hate Fall to Pieces because it is very melodramatic and cheesy but is admittedly a good STP/GnR hybrid. Anyway, when I was watching The Weather Channel this morning I actually watched videos for a bit (I can't stop!), and saw the video for Fall to Pieces, which was even more melodramatic than the song itself. It had Scott Weiland acting. Point being, despite the high cheese quotient of the video I was still rabid for Scott Weiland. Absolutely rabid.
It occurs to me now that because I know noone and can't have a crush on anyone in my actual life, I have reverted to being fourteen and having crushes on celebrities. Word.
I will write about ce weekend soon-ish.
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