Peaceful, Positive, and Pink

As part of my personal day today, I went to Union Square to attend a hip hop rally in protest of Hot 97's tsunami song. I don't know if this made national news, but basically what happend is the unintelligent hosts of Hot 97's morning show (Hot 97 is the station where 50 Cent recently spoke and where someone from his entourage was shot outside) wrote and aired an ignorant, disrespectful, distasteful, and utterly racist song about the tsunami victims shortly after the tragedy.

These were the lyrics: (these are very insensitive and offensive, so don't read if you're not willing to deal with this)

There was a time
When the sun was shining bright
So I went down to the beach to catch me a tan
Then the next thing I knew
A wave 20 feet high came and washed your whole country away
And all at once you could hear all the screaming Chinks
And no one was safe from the wave
There were Africans drowning
Little Chinamen swept way
You could hear God laughing "Swim You bitches, swim"
[Chorus]
So now you're screwed, it's a tsunami
You better run and better kiss your ass away
Go find your mommy
I just saw her float by, a tree right through her head, and now your children will be sold child slavery
[Repeat chorus]

Heinous. Completely and utterly heinous. I could go off, but I won't. You know how I feel.

Obviously New Yorkers have been up in arms, demanding that Miss Jones (the host of the morning show) and the remaining morning staff be terminated. It's tough, though, because of freedom of speech.

A rally was held today in order to stress the positive and peaceful qualities of hip hop, and to dismiss the violence and hatred associated with the culture.

Here's the link:

http://www.hiphopliveshere.com/

Here is what the rally looked like from the Filene's Basement in Union Square, which clearly isn't in the basement:



And here is another shot:



As you can see, it wasn't very crowded. It wasn't that good of a rally. The sound system was on very low, so you couldn't tell a rally was happening unless you were right on top of it.



People had signs. This woman's baby was awesome.



Suchin Pak from MTV was there. I kept following her around, semi-hoping she'd ask to interview me so I could say "No thanks, Suchin, and you look much cuter with glasses." I have a suspicion that I'll be hovering in the background of every interview that airs on MTV.



The best thing about Suchin Pak was that she was being followed around by her cameraman and this nerdy early-20's PA (and me) who had a notebook that said "Why are you here?" and "What did you think of the tsunami song?" in case Suchin forgot what to say. I desperately tried to get a photo of it over his shoulder but couldn't get the right angle. Curse my shortness.



Here's another dude with a sign.



There was more interviewing going on than actual rallying.



There was music, but you couldn't really hear it.



And rapping, which you could hear. Very socially aware and very good, but sadly the crowd never got into it.



I never really got into it either, and it was cold and I couldn't hear what was going on, so I went up to Filene's Basement to photograph things from above and happened upon the annual bridal gown madness insanity event. Unfortunately it wasn't crazy when I got there.



I decided to shop, since it was a personal day and I could do whatever I want! I need a spring coat. I've never had a good spring coat, mainly because I can never find coats that fit me. They are always too big. I found one - its very very hot pink - and while trying it on in the store I was torturing myself. It fit so nicely - it seemed slightly too big - and was so pink. I asked a woman who worked there, who was like 400 pounds, what she thought. She told me it was "too small" and that I should really try a larger size. I wanted to yell "Dude, I just wanted to know if you thought it was TOO PINK!" She kept rolling her eyes and huffing "Honey, move your arms around - see? It's TOO SMALL."

Hmph.

I took it into the dressing room with me along with all sorts of other lovely pink items for future spring and summer weddings, and found myself becoming Joe-Pesci-on-Saturday-Night-Live about the whole thing. Have you seen that sketch where he's buying a ring and looking at himself in the mirror and doing all of the poses he might do in real life that would showcase the ring? That was me with the coat. I blame that large woman. Here I am being out of control with various poses I might make while wearing the coat.



I bought the coat, as well as two of the dresses. To be determined. I have 30 days to decide. Roommate thinks the coat fits beautifully but is unsure about its pinkness. I am going to have to ask D and M, who's visiting this weekend. Yipee!

On my way home, there were a dozen red roses on some trash cans on N. 3rd St. I tried to get a picture of them with Brooklyn and the Brooklyn sky in the background, but it didn't work. I took 15 of them and this is, regrettably, the best one.



Ah, personal day.

And now, the weekend.

Personal

I am taking a personal day today.

I haven't been by myself for more than an hour in weeks.

I am using today to do things like pick up the mystery package that's been sitting at the post office for weeks, to clean and do laundry and put things on my Ipod, to download some Brit Pop, to perhaps make copies of the CD's I've been promising people for over a month, to attend and photograph a rally in Union Square at 3 pm.

I don't know how much of this will happen, but I don't care, because I am in my pajamas listening to classical music while staring at my still-unfinished 401k paperwork that is so getting dealt with today!

When I called my boss to inform him that I'd be taking a personal day, it was hard for me not to explain what I was doing.

The point of a personal day is that its personal. It's ironic that I usually keep to myself at work and don't let anyone know me. But the second I am taking a personal day, I feel the need to explain that last week was very stressful with D's being sick and that I've so many visitors and that I am on the verge of a meltdown and that because I have very little work to do today, it makes sense for me to rejuvenate.

But I just said "N, it's Leah, I am taking a personal day" and then quickly hung up before I told my boss my life story.

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Last night a bunch of us went to a place called Cafe Vivaldi, which is coincidentally around the corner from D's apartment and is my new favorite place on the planet.

It's a restaurant/bar with a fireplace and Yamaha grand piano and someone playing classical music while you drink cosmopolitans or beers. A friend of Bench Buddy's roommate was playing and he was fantastic. He played Chopin and Beethoven and Debussy. He said "I heard you are quite the little pianist" and I said "Well, I am the little pianist, but that's about it." He said I could play there whenever I wanted, and that if I wanted to play in between his sets on Sunday I could. Not that I am going to, but how lovely of him to offer. I think I need to become friends with him.

I think this will be the place I go when I need to unwind, or to be introspective, or to meet people, or to get drunk while listening to classical music, which I think is a lovely prospect.

My only complaint is that my "friends" were being loud. I realize it is a bar so people should talk, but I wanted to hear everything. There was debate about whether you clap between movements when you're at a bar and not at the symphony. Sometimes I found myself playing air piano. Sometimes I found myself actually being happy.

Sigh. Classical music and personal days. Life feels good today.

Louis Vuitton

I so have nothing to say.

So here are 10 things about nothing:

1. I slept from 10pm to 8am and got into work at 10:30am. Delightful!

2. On the train this morning there was a woman wearing a Louis Vuitton scarf. It was hideous. It made me sad, because what if this poor woman paid Louis Vuitton caliber money for a horrid dark brown / light brown scarf with L's and V's on it?

3. This past weekend, as part of our car-tour-de-New-York, D stopped us somewhere on the southern tip of Manhattan to look at the Statue of Liberty. While my father took photos, I looked at contraband handbags, and saw the most adorable pink argyle Prada bag. Just as I was about to ask the dude how much he wanted for it, all of the contraband handbag vendors hid their merchandise within three seconds. It was bizarre - they wrapped everything up immediately in sheets, and it seriously took three seconds for millions of bags to become none. They've got this down to a science. We waited for a bit to ask about the bag, but tha police kept driving by.

4. Later that day, D asked me if I wanted it because it was Prada. I was like "What do you think?" and he said "You'd probably rip the label off." "Yes, darling, you are getting to know me." Pink argyle!!! Shit. Fuck tha police.

5. I had a dream last night that LBF and I were having babies. This was a very realistic dream, in that it was a dream about actual pregnancy instead of the usual dreams I have in which I suddenly have a baby and am confused. Normally I'm like "Did I steal this child? Does this child belong to me? Where did this come from?!?!" In the dream, I was showing and mainly concerned about where/when my water would break and what that would be like. I was also trying to organize an outing to go dancing and various friends of mine - old school friends from like years ago - were trying to tell me that dancing and drinking are not good ideas when one is pregnant. And I kept being like "You're right - what if my water breaks IN THE CLUB!?" Later in the dream, I was building a hammock for the baby to sleep in and D wanted nothing to do with it. I kept saying "Where do you expect our child to sleep?" and he kept trying to tell me he didn't care because he didn't want it.

6. D and I had a fight this morning - well, not really a fight, more of an issue - that we didn't resolve. This is another reason why one should not date one's coworker, because you're both feeling terrible and sad and you have to smile and be normal and not awkward when you get to work. We cleared things up at lunch, but morning was brutal.

7. You may have already seen this, but it's awesome:

http://news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&u=/ap/20050225/ap_on_fe_st/somervi
lle_gates_1

8. And also:

http://www.futurebird.com/buckets/

9. Bench Buddy and I are going to construct and post an Emo Scale tomorrow, on which we and our coworkers will indicate our moods as represented by the works of various bands/musicians. It will involve velcro and lamination and pictures of Ben Folds! We are way too excited about it.

10. I guess maybe I had only nine things to say.

Until tomorrow...

Pricing Games and Hot Flashes and Pointlessness

I went to see a charming little film called Schultze Gets The Blues last night. It is a German movie with an idealistic love for America and Americans.

It was slow but endearing.

And it had yodeling, which made me happy.

Since the movie was slow, I had time to contemplate yodeling without missing out on anything in the movie. I was thinking "Why does yodeling make me so happy?" and finally I determined that it's nostalgia for The Price Is Right and not The Sound of Music.

If you don't suffer from the same nostalgia, I am referring to a pricing game on TPIR in which a contestant has to guess the price of a prize and then this small dude climbs up a mountain while yodeling. He climbs for the amount of notches that the contestant is away from the actual retail price of the prize. It's agony because you don't know if he's going to stop or fall over the side the mountain.

This is a really stressful game. Probably one of the more stressful games on TPIR, but it still makes me feel all warm and fuzzy thinking about it.

I spent a good portion of the movie last night trying to think of what that game was called. I came up with some theories:

1. Climb Every Mountain
2. Rise To the Top
3. The Lonely Goatheard
4. The Yodeler
5. Weird Little Man Who Yodels
6. Don't Fall Over the Edge
7. The Mountain Game
8. The Climbing Game

I was trying to think like the brilliant minds behind The Price Is Right, about things like The Race Game and Three Strikes and The Golf Game and PLINKO!!!

Needless to say I've been looking forward to this moment... I've been waiting since last night for this... I've been in agony... I've been waiting for the moment when I could look up the actual name of The Game With The Little Yodeling Dude...

Oh. Cliff Hangers. I'm not sure if I actually ever knew that. Hmmm.

http://gscentral.net/cliff.htm

Heh. I guess its funny that determining the name of this game from last night to just now was sort of a, well, yeah, a cliffhanger.

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I am also thinking about menopause today. It was something I've been looking forward to, up until last night. In New York, landlords are responsible for heating tenants' apartments, so we have no control over the heat level.

A few weeks ago, D caved in and bought a space heater because his apartment was just too damn cold. He complained to the landlord, but things never got better.

Starting yesterday, somebody must have put the smack down on the landlord because his apartment was 90 degrees. For those of you who know me, you know I prefer things warm. I'd have the heat on 80 at all times if given my way. D set up two fans, but they didn't do much. I rolled over in the middle of the night and put my hand on my pillow and I'm not kidding when I say I winced because the pillow was so freaking hot (my pillow - and therefore my head - is right near the radiator when I sleep). I got up and melodramatically declared that we needed to switch sides because I was dying from heat stroke.

This is what menopause must be like. I can't even imagine. I can't imagine being that hot at random and being expected to function. How awful.

It's also awful that people in NYC are either forced to freeze or to put their air conditioners on in the middle of the winter.

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I am feeling pointless lately. I am not consuming anything artistic or worthy. I haven't had an original thought in quite some time. I am too busy comparing myself to other people.

Do other people compare themselves to other people?

I need hobbies. I need to be good at something. I don't feel like I have "a thing" right now. Pointless. I found these old science songs online from the 60s and thought I'd write and record some of my own, but that is derivative. I'm entirely derivative. I thought "I should paint again," but then I thought "What would I paint?" and came up with nothing. I feel barren. I thought "Maybe I should take a class on philosophy," but then thought "I might then feel more stupid and wouldn't be able to take it."

Dance lessons could be cool.

Career change.

Jewelry making.

Painting.

Photography.

I don't feel good enough lately, but I can't quite figure out what I'm not good enough for. Me? Him? New York?

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D just sent me the word-of-the-day, and it's "misanthrope."

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More optimistic entries for the rest of the week, I promise.

The Curtains

My parents visited this weekend and now, more than ever, I am convinced that I need to start smoking.

Lovely to see them, and now that they are gone, I can tend to my ulcer.

I wish parents would just say "We just want to be in your presence and don't actually want to do anything so as not to feel empty-nested" instead of saying "We don't care what we do" and then cowering in the corners of a contemporary art museum.

I wish we weren't so different.

I wish I didn't miss them as much as I do.

I wish their visit didn't coincide with other stressful things.

Mom brought chocolate chip cookies and apple pies and other rations that will be useful during the upcoming snowstorm, which will be pounding us any second. We are hopeful for a snow day.

Dad took photos, but only a mere 75! He only talked about taxes for about a minute. He is learning.

It was lovely to see Sister, but I wish I didn't have to see her while playing the roles of Daughters. I am hoping that she and her boyfriend will visit soon on their own, so that we can be ourselves.

My parents, of course, adored D, who rallied and charmed them despite having been hospitalized. He adored them, too. It went far better than I could have imagined, ulcer aside. Their meeting makes me feel serious. It's all real now. D becomes less and less fictional with each friend and family member he meets.

I keep looking out the window for snowflakes. This could be the sort of storm that allows us to go home early! I need to decompress. Please, please, please let there be snow and lots of it followed by freezing rain and other treacherous natural phenomenon that prohibit my commuting. PLEASE!

Still no snow. Actually, it would be best if it didn't start snowing until around 5:00, because I do not have a scarf or mittens because when I left the loft this morning I was still feeling insane from the weekend and could not do things like dress myself appropriately.

I am going to work now.

Hope you are all having a joyous Monday.

p.s. Since I was feeling emo and ulcer-y and fatalistic on Friday night while D was in the hospital I, gasp, wrote a song!!! This means that there actually migh be A SONG on My Mundane Life In Song within a week! Don't get too excited. I am still in love with the chorus and bridge-to-chorus after two days, but I loathe the verse. We'll see what happens.

Legos Make Everything Better

I spent the morning in the ER with D.

I don't know what's going on. All I know is that watching the person you love suffer is worse than suffering yourself and that the unknown is fucking scary.

I also know that it is ridiculous that they show talk shows in the emergency room. While I was there, I watched agitated people on Jerry Springer kick the crap out of each other. I then watched the guests of Maury Povich cry and slip into fits of hysteria. I kept wishing they'd put on the fishtank channel. I think people in hospital waiting rooms need serenity, not violence.

I also know that I am now back at work trying to get eight hours of work done in four hours while D is still at the hospital just waiting around feeling fine and hoping to get a fabulous magnetic picture of his brain.

Oooh! He just called and is having an MRI at 9:00. I can't believe we got there at 11:00 am and he's just going to get it at 9:00 pm. There is something thrilling and adorable about our plan to have me smuggle food into him during visitor's hours, which go from 8:00 to 8:15 pm.

In spite of being tense and emo today, I laughed like an idiot at the following:

http://www.koreus.com/files/200408/lego_thriller.html

You have to watch the entire thing, or at least until the dance number about 2/3 of the way through.

Have a nice weekend.

I will try to enjoy mine and not indulge my ulcer.

Carnegie Hall

I thought my birthday plans were going to be, well, a fancy dinner. D had said "Not that you don't dress nicely, but you might want to dress a little more, well, nicely than you usually do on your birthday."

I was excited about but flustered by having to dress up for something mysterious. I didn't make it through my entire class on Tuesday night for many reasons, including three old ladies wearing fur coats who yelled at me for eating a bagel during the movie, my subsequent starvation, my desire to blog, and my nervousness about finding the perfect outfit for my mystery date the following night.

On the train en route to mystery destination I started getting nervous. I was sensing an elaborateness surrounding the plan, as D said "We might want to grab a snack - this could be a while," which suggested something with a finite duration, and therefore tickets. Tickets? Does he know me well enough to buy tickets to something?

We got off the train and started walking and it soon became apparent that we were going to, gasp, Carnegie Hall!!!!!!

I have romantic and nostalgic feelings surrounding Carnegie Hall that are due solely to the Chipmunks Christmas Special from 1981, in which Dave books Alvin to play a harmonica solo at Carnegie Hall.

http://www.chipmunks.com/catalog/product_info.php?products_id=39&osCsid=7052b986225e9ada0e39c40439095967

Carnegie Hall!

I was flipping out. First of all, I was at the Carnegie Hall!

Second of all, how is it conceivable that someone took the time to devise this plan for me? How did I get this lucky? How is this even possible? I kept saying "I can't believe this is my life!"

Third of all, we walked up three flights of stairs to our box!!! You sit in boxes at Carnegie Hall on red velvet covered red chairs.

The performance was of Contemporary American Composers, including the debut of a symphony by Danny Elfman. The piece was exquisite. I was holding my breath throughout all six movements. I actually felt relieved when it ended, because I was emotionally on edge the entire time.

The best news of all, however, is that Danny Elfman is busily composing an Edward Scissorhands ballet!

Following the performance, D took me for dinner at Grilled Cheese NYC, where we ate grilled cheeses and sweet potato fries and where I kicked his ass not once but twice at Connect Four.

Is it possible for him to be any more perfect?

This birthday date completely made up for all of the emo birthdays past.

Maybe 29 is going to be ok.

My Mundane Life In Song Would Like To Welcome...

... a very special guest, RR.

I love when the blog hosts guest writers.

RR has summarized her feelings about our weekend karaoke experience as follows:

Leah's Birthday Karaoke Extravaganza

Hit Lists
High Light Performances

Male

D's heartfelt rendition of Roy Orbinson's Crying… I dare you not to cry!

Bench Buddy's Pearl Jam...would have made Eddie proud and was right on and just what we needed.

Female

Leah's Creep….She is too hard on herself folks.

Leah's Buffalo Stance... "What's he like? What's he like anyway?!"

RR's Easy

Duets

RR and D's Hungry Like the Wolf

Leah and RR's Live to Tell...oh Madonna you know our pain. Thank you.

D and N's True nicely done among chaos… it is hard to make the crazy look less crazy but you did it and N's "I know it's true Hoos" were awesome.

Leah and D's Flame.. I was there folks and need to get a fire extinguisher.

Duets that would have Rocked Brooklyn leaving them talking...had we been called up or Named Liz.....

Leah and RR's Milkshake...we can teach you but we will have to charge!

29

Whoa. I just turned 29.

Yep.

Wow.

When I was a little kid I always thought people who were 30 were really, really old. I still feel like a kid. I haven't figured anything out. I suppose I have one more year to get everything in order.

Late-20's are almost over. When did that happen?

I need to figure things out.

But only after I celebrate my birthday in early-20's style.

I wish I could be a spastic drunk instead of an introspective one.

The photos from my birthday party are not as fun as I'd like them to be, but I will share them anyway. I didn't do a good job of documenting everything since I was, well, distracted.

We started off with a small gathering and karaoke in the apartment. Much gratitude towards RR and her fabulous MTV-brand-karaoke-machine with superfluous video camera. At first we feared the camera and didn't quite know what to make of the machine's capacity for live video. Our disdain quickly turned into awe and we were hooked. Please note the pink post-it collage on the wall, again, courtesy of RR. Nobody signed up. And, because neither of us are LBF, we couldn't come up with any suggestions for people. This didn't, however, stop people from singing. I don't have many photos of people singing because I was busy tending to mingling and other hostess-like activities during this portion of the party.



D baked this fabulous cake. It was orange, but not in honor of TheGates. It was delicious.



RR and I bought shark tatoos at the Folk Art Museum that afternoon. I was thrilled because a shark is actually one of my realistic tatoo options. We covered ourselves with tats and formed a gang. RR was Mama Shark, but she did not appear in photographs because as the Gang Leader she has to maintain an aura of mystery.



After everyone had gathered at The Loft, we headed out to Galapagos for some Sid and Buddy (well, I guess its now just Sid) karaoke. It was crowded when we got there so I knew there was no chance of getting to sing. I signed up for "Bandages" by Hot Hot Heat anyway. I challenged popular opinion that I should indicate that it was my birthday when I signed up, due to my not wanting to draw attention to myself. I hoped I'd get to sing but sadly I did not. But we still had fun. I think Bench Buddy had the most fun.



As usual, the people at Sid Karaoke were quite good. RR and I particularly enjoyed some girl's rendition of Fever.



The male sharks did as well.



D, who wasn't having the best time given his not feeling well and given my being drunk and full of drama, was about to leave when he was called up to sing "True" by Spandau Ballet. N joined him onstage, along with some woman who insisted on singing every single song. She was unbearable. D and N were, of course, adorable. This picture, however, is not.



Shortly after they sang we decided to leave, because RR and I were certain we, as The Sharks, might kill the woman who stole D and N's karaoke thunder. When we left Galapagos, there was a pristine coating of snow in the road. It is so rare to see snow so untouched. Immaculate. RR and N decided to make snow angels.



N's snow angel was very little and cute.



The Male Sharks copied them and made their own snow angels.



The girls tried to make snow sharks.



When I think of my 29th birthday party, I will think of walking back to The Loft in the snow behind everyone else. I felt like an observer instead of a participant. This is what my 29th birthday looked like.



29.

Whoa.

TheGatesTheGatesTheGates.... Again

On Saturday, RR and I went to see TheGates.

This was my second time seeing TheGates. I warned RR about not getting her hopes up.

Maybe I just don't like orange.

Here are some pictures:

Picture of pictures of TheGates:


Some people and some gates:


Some more people and some more gates:


"I am contemplating the deeper meaning of The Gates....


"... and I have decided that The Gates are totally, like, the best thing EVER!"


RR has much better photos, which I will post whenever she gets a chance to send them to me.

I'll also have photos, most likely a plethora of panoramas, to post after my parents' visit this coming weekend.

After TheGates, RR and I tried to go to the MOMA but failed miserably because of the crowds. Mobs. Insanity. We went to the Folk Art Museum instead, where we fell in love with The Blue Exhibit. I had a Sal Moment during which I almost thought it acceptable to photograph something at the museum. In the Blue Exhibit, they had a collection of various blue pigments with which I fell in love. Luckily RR has a high tech camera phone, and managed to covertly take this for me:



We then headed back to The Loft where we mutually experienced pre-party anxiety. I am so glad she was there to maintain some degree of sanity as I went through the normal emotions of pre-party panic followed by "what to wear" trauma followed by inability to function for the hour prior to and after the start of the party.

My main concern with this function was quantity. Because nobody from work responded to my invitation, I had no idea if anyone was coming. None. How do you plan a function when you have zero concept of the amount of attendees? My estimate was approximately 10 people, which ended up being the case.

But of course I was having the following panic attacks:

1. What if nobody came? It wouldn't be the end of the world because I'd have fun with D and RR no matter what.
2. What if everybody came and there was not enough food or alcohol?
3. What if people came and nobody had fun?
4. What if people came and they all hated each other?
5. What if what if what if things culminated in my crying at my own party?

The only portion of the list that ended up being relevant was, sadly, number 5.

The party ended up being just the right mixture - too much alcohol plus not enough karaoke plus missing my girlfriends plus cock blocking plus vile and attention-needy girls plus patient boys plus feeling like an outcast and not feeling like a queen on one's birthday - for misdirected tears.

All I have to say is that I am so lucky to have such wonderful girls. I have decided that I don't need new friends, because I already have the most amazing friends in the world. I love that they calm and validate the tears and know just what to say, because they know me.

Man. I am so tired.

These entries are so incoherent. I haven't slept much over the past week. I'd intended to sleep tonight but the blog takes priority! I guess its fitting that the entries are all over the place, because so was the weekend.

Winds of Change

After the Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players, it was time for the karaoke party prequel!

D, RR and I travelled back to Williamsburg, where we enjoyed chocolate covered strawberries (and bananas!) courtesy of RR and got our karaoke on.

Roommate and her new Boy/Toy were at the Loft. They definitely thought we were nerds, but that didn't stop them from joining in.

In fact, Boy/Toy can really sing.

And, for the second time in one weekend, I sang Poison by Bel Biv Devoe.

And also Buffalo Stance.

And D and I performed a stunning duet of The Flame.

And RR and I kicked ass during La Isla Bonita:



And I learned that I should never ever sing Creep, no matter how well I think I can sing along with Thom Yorke.

We were exhausted, but that didn't stop RR from beautifully executing her own version of The Scorpion's Winds of Change:



Nothing stops karaoke!!!!! We won't stop! You can't stop us now!!!!

A-W-K-W-A-R-D

My birthday weekend commenced on Saturday morning, when D and I woke up early and cleaned my apartment from top to bottom. For D, the major motivating force was ridding The Loft of Roommate-associated-clutter and cat-associated unsightliness. Bless him and his OCD tendencies and his love of vacuuming. The Loft looks amazing, and playing house with him in this huge space was one of the weekend's major highlights.

A major motivating factor for me was anticipating the arrival of RR, my dear, wonderful and insanely-missed friend from Boston. She arrived Saturday afternoon with karaoke machine in tow and tons of love to give. We caught up, set up the karaoke machine, got ready, and headed out for our evening with the Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players!

Since relocating to New York, I have flip flopped my inability to estimate how long things will take. When I lived in Boston I was notoriously early for things. I was always the one waiting. I'd say "Man, I am going to be at work all day - this experiment is going to take 9 hours!" so I'd rush and then be done in 5 hours. Here, I'm like "Oh yeah, I'll be there in 20 minutes" and it will take an hour. I am never on time. I think its because I haven't quite developed the ability to compare how long things should take to how long things actually take. Because I can see Manhattan from my window, it should take me only seconds, in theory, to get there. Tis not the case.

Anyway, RR and I were supposed to meet D at Fez Under Time at 7:00. When we got to the L, I looked at the clock, which said 6:50. I knew it would take us at least half an hour to get there. I said "Is that right?" Sadly it was. The L didn't come for a while, of course, and I was feeling really guilty for keeping D waiting. Again. Like I always do.

When we got off the L at Union Square, we were supposed to switch to the 6. We were in a rush, and RR, who has longer legs than me, got ahead of me and ran to catch a train. She bolted down the stairs. I followed after her, but couldn't keep up. Next thing I knew she was running onto the wrong train. Sloooooooow mooooooootion... "Noooo.... not that one!" I yelled, but it was too late! The doors closed on RR before I could get on the train, and she was gone.

I was frantic. I was like "Somebody tell me where that train goes!" There were these four fabulously New York construction men there, laughing at me. They told me that the train went to Astor. "What's that?!?!?" I was afraid it was Brooklyn. It was, apparently, only one stop away, so I decided to take the next train to Astor, which was hopefully what RR did as well. The four men continued to make fun of me until the next train came. They told me I was a bad host, that it was my duty as a New Yorker to hold my guests' hands. I said "No, not my fault, she got cocky!" and they said "No way, man, you're just becoming a New Yorker" and "What kind of friend are you?" and "How could you?" and "Good luck, she's going to kick your ass." I was crying tears of laughter by the time I got on the next train.

RR was nowhere to be found on the platform at Astor. D called and I was like "I can't talk to you right now I have lost RR and I don't know what to do where she is shit i suck oh my god."

RR had apparently gone to the other side of the platform and saw me looking around, so she called and we were reunited.

We ended up being really really really late.

D had been late as well, but because he was sick. Again. My heart is breaking.

I couldn't decide between being worried to the point of having another meltdown or being giddy about having lost RR and having felt like the subject of a funny play about becoming a New Yorker.

When we got into Fez Under Time, there was a line. Not cool since we had reserved tickets, which means we should have gotten a seat. I was holding onto D because I was afraid he was going to pass out or something, when some dude approached RR. He seemed to know her. She seemed horrified by his very presence. She clenched her teeth and tried desperately to conceal her awkwardness, but needless to say she didn't do a good job. Apparently some dude she knows from Boston heard what she was doing and decided to just turn up unannounced and unplanned, which really wigged out RR.

A-W-K-W-A-R-D.

We couldn't get seats at first, so we stood by the bar and listened to the awful opening band while we jealously watched The Trachtenburg Daughter eat a gigantic plateful of spaghetti.

We eventually spotted three seats - not together - and decided to sit down because we were worried about D and starving.

And then - the show! If you do not know about the Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players, please consult:

http://www.slideshowplayers.com/

RR and I had seen them over a year ago during a snowstorm in Cambridge at the Middle East. We were simultaneously amused and horrified by them. At one point The Father called attention to us during the show and we were terrified, but not to the point that we weren't thrilled about the possibility of seeing them again.

The show was good. They played "Look At Me," which is our favorite. The Father was his usual punchy self only this time, unlike in Cambridge, he was a slightly more organized and therefore appealing punchy. He was funny, especially when talking about TheGates. If he wasn't so smart the banter might become exhausting, but he's witty and bizarre and lovely. He appeals to a specific sense of humor which I happen to have. Readers, this is not for everyone.



Towards the end of the set, The Father initiated a question-and-answer session, which included questions from the audience such as "Why are there only white people in your slides?" and a question to the daughter asking if she has aspirations involving something other than music. I think everyone worries about her. She answered "I would like to be an actor."

Things are clearly much worse than any of us could have imagined.

Harlem Globetrotters

D and I, along with some of our coworkers, had tickets to see the Harlem Globetrotters on Friday night! I was so very excited. I love when nostalgia can be that powerful.

Prior to the game, D, Bench Buddy and I went to D's for drinks and conversation. We busily drank and discussed Bench Buddy's premise that love, hate, and indifference are like an isoceles triangle, with love and hate being the bottom and very close together and therefore readily and often interchangeable, and indifference being very far away and therefore harder to achieve. Ah, Bench Buddy. And then we sang Poison by Bel Biv Devoe.

The conversation and drinks made us late for the game, which started at 8:00. We got to Madison Square Garden at around 8:30. Once we found our way inside, which was far more difficult than we'd anticipated, we were baffled by the amount of people who were in the hallways. We deduced that it was halftime, and I felt stupid for having thought that a Harlem Globetrotters game would be as long as an NBA game. I said "I guess it makes sense that the halves would only be 20 minutes, but man, that's disappointing."

We met our other coworkers at the seats and they kept being like "Man, you guys are so late!"

I said "How were we supposed to know that the half would only be 20 minutes? We're not that late! Did we miss the hiding-the-ball trick?"

After like five minutes of discussion regarding our being late, it was revealed that the game started at 7:00. Oops.

Nevertheless, it was fun. There was much more, well, hip hop than I expected. Also, during the half, horrid pop music was playing and little kids were going nuts singing along with Ashlee Simpson. I fear for the youth. The game was fun - lots of dancing, antics, banter, and much less basketball than I remembered.

Here is some dancing:



It was fun.

Some questions, though:

1. Who are the Harlem Globetrotters? Like did they play basketball in college and almost made it into the NBA?
2. Do the Harlem Globetrotters score easily with chicks? Like does that work if you're in a bar and someone asks what you do - do girls think its hot if you're a Globetrotter? Or do people think its lame?
3. Do they make Nationals t-shirts? If they do, we are going to buy them and cheer for the Nationals next time.
4. Bench Buddy claims that the Nationals won once and only once - was this on purpose or did the Globetrotters have a bad night and the Nationals accidentally won?

Things to ponder before bringing future children to a Globetrotters game.

Don't Worry

Yesterday was a pivotal day.

I've only had one other day (night) like this in my life. In college, I was dead asleep and someone was knocking on my door rather loudly. In college you assume that it's just some drunk idiot and you don't respond. Turned out it was Former-Favorite-Ex-Boyfriend's friend, who finally yelled "Leah, sweetie, T was in an accident."

Everything changed in that moment. When confronted with the idea of losing someone forever, your feelings for them crystallize in a way that is truly overwhelming. You can't think about anything else but him, of him being in pain, of him being sad, alone, afraid. You can't think at all, really. Then you start thinking about yourself - you have those selfish thoughts like "What would I do without him? What would life be like without him? Would I survive if he was gone?"

This happened again yesterday.

Upon hearing about this I immediately ceased functioning. People kept saying "Don't worry, things will be fine."

But how do you know? How can you assume things will be fine? I am a fatalist.

I was in a meeting with my boss. I had my phone with me, which I never do at work, because I was flipping out and waiting for D to call. It finally rang and I said "I have to take this... its an emergency..." and just ran out of the meeting in high-television-drama style.

I thought hearing his voice would comfort me, but it didn't.

He said "Please don't worry, everything is fine."

"I am going to worry and there's nothing you can do about it."

I was a wreck. My boss said "Would you please go home? You're scaring the hell out of me," and I was like "No, no, it'll be fine. Don't worry."

Don't worry!??!?! Who am I to tell someone not to worry when I am having a meltdown about the thing I am telling them not to worry about? The words "don't worry" are empty.

Bench Buddy was directly involved in all of the drama (long story I don't want to get into) and he kept saying "Don't worry, it's going to be fine... you should go home and drink lots..."

I finally convinced him to get a drink with me after my boss demanded that I go home, after which I went home and drank Tropicana Twisters with Rum because that's all I had available to me. I compulsively cleaned while worrying and flipping out to the point where Roommate had to talk me off the sabotage ledge.

Sabotage, you ask? Yes. I hit the point of no return yesterday, where I thought "If something happened to him, or worse, if something happened to us, I would throw myself off of a bridge."

I guess I didn't realize how I felt until yeserday.

I envy the people who haven't been massacred by love and who don't worry about this sort of thing and who don't think about bridges.

I was drunk and sloppy and emo and sweeping and saying "Roommate, I don't know if I can handle this again. Like seriously, if this falls apart, I can't go through this again."

She was stellar, not because she had advice, but because she understands sabotage and she told me not to do it. She told me she would kick my ass if I do.

Today I am less worried, but still thinking "What if what if what if what if...."

My energy level right now, as Bench Buddy just said about himself, is 11 out of 10. I am giddy because D is here and fine and seeing him is the best thing in the world and he apparently got cuter overnight.

Bench Buddy's energy level is escalating because he is looking forward to karaoke and because we are listening to disco music.

We cannot contain ourselves.

Dear god.

This day cannot go by fast enough.

TheGatesTheGatesTheGates

Since I didn't get my act together and see The Gates for long enough to photograph them for you, here is a wonderful photo essay on them:

http://www.supermasterpiece.com/features/kutner/gates/gates.html

Anonymous

I write a blog. I also read blogs when I am bored at work. I've narrowed down the blogs I read to include about 5 or 6 New York-centric blogs. They range from personal weblogs that allow me to be a voyeur to blogs that focus on local news and/or politics to pop culture/gossip/who's wearing what blogs to comedic/observational blogs. I try to keep up with them all on a daily basis, but obviously can't. I wish work didn't interfere with my side projects.

Anyway, I am truly excited today because...

I was reading a certain blog that I enjoy - its a very popular local blog about the music scene - not only what's going on in NY (upcoming shows, show reviews, show recommendations, show photos and show gossip) but what's going on in the indie music world. What's coming out when, what you should listen to, who's saying what about what, links to new videos and songs etc. Love it. I read it every day to find out what's going on and what I missed and what I should be experiencing in NYC.

I was curious to see if they'd gone to The Kaiser Chief's show this weekend, and more curious to see if they had any photos so I could put a link to it on my blog so you could all see just how amazing this show was. Sadly they'd only attended last night's show at the Mercury Lounge. There were photos, but I really wanted photos from my show. I read the review, and then at the end, they're like "For reviews of the Saturday night show at NorthSix, click HERE, HERE, and HERE."

I thought "Sweet! Maybe these people have photos!"

I read the first review, which basically said the same gushing things as mine. The second review was cute - the girl met the band but didn't say much and felt like a bit of a tool. The third review... was MINE!

Weird. But cool. In a weird way. I feel exposed. And happy. And, well, not so anonymous. This is a confirmation that people I don't know read my blog. Or have at least stumbled upon it. Obviously this is a possibility - its public, and at first I thought "How dare they link to my blog! How dare they tell the world to read this!" and then I thought "Well, it's out there, published for the world to read, so I guess the world can read it if they so choose."

I'm fairly certain nobody will read it other than people who went to the show at NorthSix and who also read this other blog, so the odds of anyone stumbling upon my review are slim.

Then again, what are the odds that I would stumble upon my own blog?

Bizarre.

Blogging about blogging. Again.

I am giddy!

It Is Valentine's Day....

... and I have been listening to Magnetic Fields' 69 Love Songs. This is the second time you are reading a shout out to 69 Love Songs on this blog, so I apologize. But if you still haven't listened to it, you owe yourself an apology.

D and I are not celebrating Valentine's Day because we think it is stupid. This involves not buying each other gifts and not purchasing a card and not contributing money to anything that is in any way Valentine's Day-like. Consequently we cannot go to dinner or a movie or a show or really anything that could be misconstrued as a date. When this was initially discussed, I thought this meant that we wouldn't even see each other tonight, but he said "No, that would be stupid." We discussed this about a month ago, and then I accidentally made an appointment to see an accountant tonight about my taxes. Even though we are boycotting Valentine's Day, I still feel weird about doing my taxes instead of seeing D, so I am not going to go. In truth, I am not going because the tax dude sketches me out and refuses to tell me how much this might cost, so now I guess its going to be a date for me and TaxAct Online, one federal and two state returns! Bliss! But I am telling myself that I am going to do my taxes by myself because D is more important.

Anyway, last night I was like "So, tomorrow's the not-big day... what are we going to do?" and he had no idea what I was talking about.

Then he was like "Oh, that's tomorrow? WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?"

Panic. It's weird when you are forced to stay in. When there are tons of things to do in the city, sometimes you value being able to stay in and watch Some Kind of Monster. But when you're confined to the inside, you start freaking out.

"We can't even rent a movie!" D said, because his TV monitor just died. "We could cook dinner together..."

"That's extremely romantic and sort of a Valentine's Day cliche, isn't it?"

"Shit."

So I don't know what we're going to do. I think ordering a pizza is very non-romantic, so maybe we'll order a pizza and play poker and have a fight and discuss how awesome roses are every day other than today.

I bet a lot of people will be eating chocolates and snuggling teddybears and carrying roses while walking through The Gates, although its disgusting out today. I walked by The Gates yesterday and, well, they're orange Gates. I thought saffron was something other than hideously bright orange, but I was mistaken. I was going to photograph them for the blog but ended up spending time with my friend A from Boston and then all of a sudden it was dark and I couldn't see The Gates at all.

OK. Work beckons. I hope you all have a nice day, whether it involves candy hearts or not.

"Oh My God I Can't Believe It....

.... I've never been this far away from home."

Just got in from seeing The Kaiser Chiefs at North Six and then a failed attempt at an after party and then an equally failed attempt at attending a birthday party at an overly-and-offensively populated hipster bar in Williamsburg.

R didn't have a ticket. Nobody's ever heard of this band, so I figured it wouldn't sell out. Despite this, as a compulsive planner, I got my ticket in advance. Apparently between my getting my ticket and the show, they were "written up" in someting so every hipster had to attend the show. Also in attendance was James Iha, which was weird, because before the show R and I were discussing the most disappointing shows we've ever seen, and I was like "Oh man, Smashing Pumpkins SUCKED" and then I had to look around and make sure James Iha wasn't standing right behind me, sitcom style.

Whoa. I just gave everything away.

Anyway, R didn't have a ticket, so we went for drinks and got smashed and planned to go to the show about half an hour before The Kaiser Chief's predicted start time in hopes that someone might have an extra ticket.

So we did, and after like two seconds R had given up. I said "Look, I'll go in and get my ticket and see if there really aren't any."

I went in and said "Do you have an extra ticket?"

"No."

"Not even one?"

"We have minus twenty tickets right now."

I went out and told R there were minus twenty tickets, and then asked him if anyone had an extra ticket.

He said "No," and I was like "Well, did you ask anyone for an extra ticket?" and he's like "No."

I said "Hmmm... so you're sure none of these people have an extra ticket?"

Then some dude's like "I have a ticket."

Me: Awesome!

R: Why do we care if you have a ticket?

Dude: I have an extra ticket.

R: In addition to the one that you'll be using to get into the show?

Dude: Yes, I have a ticket.

Me: You mean, you have a ticket aside from your ticket?

Dude: I have a ticket.

R: You have a ticket that you're not using?

Dude: I have an extra ticket.

R: A ticket that you can sell me?

Dude: Yes.

I don't know why we were being such idiots. I guess because it was too good to be true. Apparently all you need to do is declare that a ticket is needed and one will materialize. We were so grateful to this dude, and both, without discussing it, assumed we'd hang out with him during the show and buy him drinks, but he disappeared.

The show was amazing. Absolutely fucking amazing. Could be top 5. Very enthusiastic and flawless performance, and only affirmed my desire to be frontwoman for a Brit Pop Band. I bounced around a lot. One thing I've noticed about shows in NYC - people do not dance. I don't know why. I guess people don't dance for the same reason people assume other people are fucking with them when they say they have an extra ticket to a show. Edgy New York. Jaded. Pompous.

But yeah. The show kicked ass. I want to see The Kaiser Chiefs once a week for the rest of time, and to see lovely British boys with their overly styled messy hair and ties. Delicious. Mark my words, readers: Kaiser Chiefs - next big thing. Hopefully not flavor of the week. My only complaint is that the show was too short, which could be due to lack of songs, which is of mild concern to me. But only mild, because the songs they do have are, each and every one of them, excellent.

There was an after party for the show at this place which claimed to have free pizza but did not. We stopped by but there wasn't much going on (band wasn't there yet) so we went to my friend's birthday party at another bar, but he wasn't there. It was sort of a party-at-a-house followed by dancing-at-the-bar, but there was a good chance that people would be too drunk after party-at-a-house to actually make it to dancing-at-the-bar. I couldn't find him there - there were tons of people and hipsters and smoke - so we stayed for only about 20 minutes because the taller people were unruly and knocking us around. Hopefully my friend wasn't there and then I won't have to feel bad about leaving. I guess I don't really feel bad. I tried. We were going to go back to the after party but I am trashed and R didn't want to drink alone. I am so responsible.

I should probably sleep, although I think the multiple rums/cokes are going to keep me up all night.

Find of the Century - Again!

http://www.grilledcheesenyc.com/

I don't know what makes me more excited about this - the existence of a grilled cheese themed restaurant or the knowledge that someone on the planet who isn't me thinks that this is a good idea!

Find of the Century

Bench Buddy just discovered that we can listen to Indie Pop Rocks without ITunes on SomaFM!!!

Consequently we have been trying to get our computers to play in stereo for the last ten minutes, but no matter what we do my computer is milliseconds ahead of his. Why? Don't know. You'd think they would be in sync. We've been playing "One, two, three... NOW." Then it was "One, two, three.... NOW" and then me starting mine an arbitrary amount of milliseconds later, but no matter what, mine is still ahead. Curses.

This would not happen if we were allowed to have ITunes.