On Friday night we went to the Whitney, which is basically free on Friday evenings. It's "Pay What You Want," so D and his friend M payed $1 each, and I paid $2, because I felt bad. I don't know why I felt bad. I apparently felt like I should pay 2x what everyone else was paying, just because I am me.
The museum is amazing. So much to see, but not as overwhelming as the MOMA. We saw everything, although I didn't get to be as obsessively staring as I'd have liked. Of course I can't remember anything I saw, aside from the Tim Hawkinson exhibit which was the best art exhibit I've ever seen.
http://www.whitney.org/exhibition/feat_hawk.shtml
His work focuses on his awareness of the human body. It's unique and bizarre and inexplicably creepy. Everyone in the exhibit was blissed out and happy, staring with their mouths open at moving sculptures and strange representations of form. It made me feel like a kid. If you get the opportunity, please see it. You will not be disappointed.
We were starving after the Whitney and found ourselves in a rare pocket of NYC where there was nowhere to eat. Well, there were places to eat, but I was craving onion rings and M was craving "pub grub," so our scope was narrow. This being said, the Upper East Side is a barren wasteland devoid of character and entertainment, so there was seriously nowhere to eat.
During our travels, we came upon this, the most unfortunate store window I have ever seen:
I have no idea what this place is doing in New York City. None, folks.
We ended up passing a diner, and I said "Dammit, we're eating there! I am going to turn into a lunatic if we wait another minute!"
D said "OH! That reminds me - there's an awesome diner around the corner - it's the best - you're going to love it... although, with our luck, it will have shut down." Chuckles. I was actually half expecting it to be on fire at that very moment, but it was, of course, only shut down.
We went back to the original diner where we came up with innovative and potentially lucrative business ideas that would take advantage of rich people, and where I ordered the worst omelette I have ever had. It had spinach and broccoli and American cheese mixed in the exact combination that made the omelette completely tasteless. Weird.
On Saturday I attended a bonus class in which Campbell Scott's film Off the Map was screened. I was slightly peeved by having to get up at 8:00 am on a Saturday to see it, but clung to the slight hope that Campbell Scott, who I love for no apparent reason, would be at the class. The film was darling - it was sweet, subtle, had depth of character. It's one of those movies that makes you root for everyone in it.
And yes, Campbell Scott was there! I half expected him to be smarmy and slick, because he always plays smarmy and slick. I was delighted to learn that he is spastic and lively and down-to-earth and brilliant and obscenely good looking and that he wears glasses, which, as you know, makes me love someone even more. When the question and answer session began, I kept wanting to ask "What are the chances of you coming home with me and my boyfriend?" since D is apparently also in love with him.
The Q and A was awesome. I learned many things, and actually came up with a good band name in the process.
After the movie I headed back to Brooklyn to eat and to just be. I hadn't been in my apartment for a while, and wanted to make sure Roommate was all set for our housewarming party, which I decided not to host but instead to attend. All was good. I did things like read mail and play piano (bliss!) and record rough cuts of things I know I'll forget because I know I won't touch the piano for another month.
I then went back to D's, who had made quiche. We then went to Caroline's in Times Square (we had to walk about 8 blocks through Times Square and I thought D was going to shoot someone - its interesting how Times Square changes once you live in New York - instead of being something to gawk at, it becomes something to navigate as efficiently as possible so as not to grow homicidal towards tourists) to see Mitch Hedberg, who is the funniest man alive.
Here he is: (awful picture)
Like the last time I saw him, about 50% of the audience didn't get it. Mitch Hedberg jokes about the mundane, the innocent, the quirky things that get you through your days. I encourage you to listen to his stuff. He's not political, sexual, or even aware. He's a grown up stoner who observes the inane and turns it into the funniest thing you've ever heard.
D was dying. He couldn't stop laughing. Everyone's Favorite Physicist said something like "Liking Mitch Hedberg Is A Litmus Test For Cool," and D passed. Our friend R and J were also dying, so success! Yeah!!! My friends are cool!
We headed back to Brooklyn again to attend Roommate's party. It's bizarre attending a party at your own house. When I got there my room was being used as a dressing room by the band who was playing. I carried my pocketbook around with me throughout the entire night as though I was at someone else's house.
The party was cool - very New York. My apartment has never looked better. There were many hipster and scenester people there. The vibe was serious. The people were beautiful. The music was provided by a DJ. It was cute to see turntables in my kitchen, and cuter to see a drum set in the living room.
My friend LL turned up (she was the only one I invited outside of D, R, and Bench Buddy) eventually, but we didn't last long. I knew this party would go until 6 am-ish, so I went back into the city and slept. Lots.
Yesterday was the first relaxing day I've had in ages. I slept in. D made crepes with bananas and strawberries and chocolate. We tried to listen to a Bach cantata at a church, but the church website was misleading and there was no Bach to be heard. The church was gorgeous, though, so it wasn't a total loss. Because D becomes more and more perfect each day, he said, "Well, this gives us more time to shop for shoes!" We walked down 8th St. in the rain and looked at millions of shoes but bought none. When we got back to his apartment, we read. I haven't read in so long. I started and finished "Sandman: Endless Nights" and felt profoundly sad about the stories but profoundly giddy about having had time to read. We ate dinner and then spent the night doing a jigsaw puzzle and being silly and being thrilled about having time to do a jigsaw puzzle.
As of this moment I am starting to feel sick, but don't care because I am still riding the happiness from the weekend.
This being said, I should stop typing and should be catatonic so as to get better.
Word.
6 comments:
what is something that is 'very new york'? There is something gramatically upsetting about seeing proper nouns used as adjectives. readers of mymundanelifeinsong, am i alone with this sentiment?
I couldn't say if you are alone, but it doesn't bother me. That being said, everyone has their own grammatical pet peeves. I have a lot, actually. I don't like it when people put "just" in the wrong place in the sentence, I hate it when people say "I feel badly for you," and I think that "utilize" should be stricken from the language. To name a few.
People bring me stuff to proofread all the time, and 'utilize' is my number one strikethrough victim. It's fake and clumsy, and I'm sure people who use it don't like Mitch Hedberg.
You people are all lunatics.
In college, I was working on a group paper with another person, and we almost came to blows over "utilize." She wanted it in, and you know my feeling. I think she agreed to leave it out but then snuck it back in because she had the computer.
because someone could just use something instead of utilizing it I am guessing? That IS friggin annoying! It's such an UN-New York thing to say, but it does strike me as being somewhat Cleveland.
Post a Comment