Saturday, August 27, 2005

male models and bring me a goddamn dream



meet at lit - open vodbull bar - too much redbull - head to orchard bar - kids we know DJing - hot and horrible in the back room - loads of people there - on to hanger bar - cuuuuute (and very young looking) doorman - the ladies go home - back to orchard bar to meet j&d - can't find them for ages - run into c. - fall into talking with some dude - end up going to hang at max fish with him - he tells me he's a male model - i laugh - he does calvin klein ads - i laugh more - i just remembered taking the total piss of him and telling him he should just tell people he does stuff for the JC Penneys and Sears catalogues - he keeps bitching about how heavy his book (portfolio) is - that motherfucker actually was heavy, i felt it - his best friend is one of the ones who died as a result of that bad heroin that's killed a bunch of kids in the city in the past couple of weeks - we head to some after-hours party up on ave c - run into some coked-out-of-his-mind guy on ave c - we get a block away from him as the cops pull up alongside him - after-hrs party: good vibes for 4 in the morning - chatting to some french girl - realise we're knackered so j and i take off - say goodbye to model boy (aaron) - he actually was pretty hott - starting to get light when we leave - walk along ninth, planning on me carrying on over to 6th for the PATH, j. to head off down the bowery to chinatown - for some reason decide it'd be a good plan to walk down to battery park to watch the sun rise - by the time we get down there it's full blown daylight - but a beautiful morning and kind of a cool way to end another awesome, random, adventure-filled new york evening - finally get home at about 8:30 am.

i think i've been too totally caught up reading 'glamorama' 'cause there were definite moments last night when i felt like i'd slipped into glamoramareality. i guess it was just the model-and-drugs thing. i have a feeling i did some zoolander-style piss-taking of the poor boy as well.

in the past seven days i think i've had an accumulated total of about 25, maybe 30 hours sleep. i've currently been awake since 7 yesterday (friday) morning. aieee. too much redbull is baaaaaad. (plus the vodka. plus whatever else...).

oh, and my phone is kind of buggered and won't send text messages. anyone that even remotely knows me will know how much this is upsetting me.

i don't quite know how i'm doing it, or why i feel so comparably sane with that little sleep over a week. totally running on empty. i just want some motherfucking sleep, yo. where's the sandman when you need him? mister sandman...

[sunrise down delancey]

Friday, August 26, 2005

beautiful boys and second chances

this week

Songs most stuck in my head:

- dry the rain/beta band (where's james d when i need him?!)
- the space between/valencia
- velouria/pixies
[what, no rufus wainwright? makes a change...]

Superficial thoughts:
- Swoon. The beautiful boy that works upstairs really *is* beautiful. I keep running into him.
- Wearing a white vest to misshapes - baaaad idea. Someone spills a drink down your front, that shit ain't comin' out easy. Trust me.
- Glamorama is genuinely one of the best fucking books ever. Every time I re-read it (yes, I’ve read it a lot) I find something new, I forget about bits... go out and read it, yo. I love it.
- Who exactly reads this blog? It gets quite a few hits but I have no idea who's looking at it. It’s interesting.
- Why do people write blogs? This involves much more thought.

Excesses:
- Being late for work. I really am usually super punctual, if not early, but this week I’ve just never been able to make that 9am deadline.
- Money spending. But I kind of had to buy the Bret Easton Ellis books (see prev.) and I’m sure all my other outgoings were vital, too.
- Vodka open bars. Oy.

happy endings

Less superficial thoughts:
- Certain awkward situations (interruption: new thought of the week – how weird is the word awkward? two ‘w’s. what an odd word to write and spell):
* People knowing things,
* People not knowing things,
* Seeing the doorman who asked me out and feeling weird – especially as he’s often on the night shift and I come back in by myself in the wee hours and it’s just him around [but I think that’s just my issue]
* Being hit on in elevators by lecherous old guys. Can’t tell you how uncomfortable this makes me. Such a small enclosed space, there’s no place to escape. Again, probably just my issue.

- The nature of regret. Filling in some survey thing last weekend (y’know, one of those really pointless ones that float around myspace and you occasionally fill in if you’re really really bored and have nothing else to do) and the last question was: Number of things in my Past I Regret. My answer? : “I try not to regret anything that's already happened, as in retrospect it seems as if things happen for a reason – and if they hadn't happened I wouldn't be right here, right now. so.” But then it’s somehow come up in conversation with other people as well this week so it’s got me thinking about it.

- Déjà vu. Keep having really vivid cases of déjà vu and can’t help thinking – indulge me here – that what if, instead of just being a case of our synapses misfiring, the messages traveling so fast that they bounce back twice so we think we’re seeing the same thing again or whatever [ahh Mr. Bright, you’d be so proud, I remembered your GCSE explanation of déjà vu…] – what if it’s something more than that, like what if it’s something we actually have done or seen before, and we’ve been given a second chance because there’s something we have to do that we didn’t before, something big that we messed up last time that caused our lives to go the wrong way, and this déjà vu thing is our reminder that we’re getting a second chance?

- What would you do with a second chance? I’m genuinely interested in actually hearing some answers for this one. I know people read this thing.

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

arch-nemeses and the better you, look the more you see

hot girl dancing on the makeshift podium



class. yawn. runs late. more yawn. run down to coliseum books. still a big line. get books signed by bret easton ellis. so psyched. got one book personalised for someone for their birthday and i hope they fucking love it. made him laugh with what i asked him to write. now can't decide whether to mail it, 'cause i really really want them to have it as soon as possible, or wait and take it back in september so i can actually see their reaction. probably mail it. it's more fun. bret easton ellis. my god. back in JC after 9. whirlwind pitstop: throw things down, change shirt, grab a slice of toast, blow back out the door. union square. it's getting a bit chillier in the evenings now. autumn on it's way. shit, it's september next week. stroll down 4th and the bowery. point out CBGBs as CC never saw it. open vodka bar at orchard bar. woo. that weird Zygo shit they had at misshapes the other day. is it flavoured? i think someone told me that last night. tastes like it is. they had these crazy girls dancing on a make-shift podium that looked a little unsafe. place quickly filled up. usual suspects. it was like misshapes only on a tuesday and in the LES. but it was fun. good people, good times. heard a london accent. started talking. he's a sarf londoner. we swore we should be arch-nemeses or something, me being a west londoner 'n all. open bar ran out too fast. thank god for hipflasks. recorded a voicemail answering message for someone as a british secretary. joker. actually danced. must have been drunk. the back room was bloody hot. seemed like i spent half the evening outside. got snap happy. some hilarious photos. made some kids go sit on this ratty sofa that was on the kerb so i could take photos. haha.


i'm thinking of starting a new set of photos solely of people sitting on sofas and chairs we find on the sidewalk



BRET EASTON ELLIS.


okay. i'm over my book geek moment.

kind of... :)

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

dedication to school and what's on my 'pod

i have a new class assignment. the proposal thing is due this evening. not only have i not done it, i forgot about it until today and now i'm reading over the outline, i have no idea what precisely we're meant to be doing. it's good to see my dedication to this Program really shines through.

currently on my ipod [a crappy mini. i have to be selective]:

22-20s.

AC Newman. Aesop Rock. Ahmad Jamal. Aim. Aimee Mann. Ambulance Ltd. The Anniversary. Appleseed Cast. The Arcade Fire. Architecture in Helsinki. Aretha Franklin.

Ballboy. Beach Boys. Beastie Boys. The Beatles. Beethoven. Belle & Sebastian. Ben E King. Ben Folds Five. The Beta Band. Beulah. Billy Idol. Bloc Party. Blockhead. Blonde Redhead. Blur. Boogie Down Productions. The Bravery. Bright Eyes. Bruce Springsteen. The Buggles. Busted. Buzzcocks.

Capleton. Carl Perkins. Cat Power. Cat Stevens. Chad & Jeremy. Charlie Parker. Chuck Berry. Ciccone Youth. Clem Snide. The Clientele. CocoRosie. Cocteau Twins. The Concretes. Cream. The Creation. Creedence Clearwater Revival. The Cribs. The Cure.

Damien Rice. Daniel Darc. Dave Brubeck. David Bowie. De La Soul. Dean Martin. The Decemberists. Del Tha Funky Homosapien. The Del Vikings. Dexter Gordon. Dinosaur Jr. Division of Laura Lee. Django Reinhardt. The Drifters. Dusty Springfield.

Eartha Kitt. Edith Piaf. Electrelane. Ella Fitzgerald. Elliott Smith. Eric B. & Rakim.

Fall Out Boy. Fiery Furnaces. The Flamingos. Frankie Lymon & The Teenagers. Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons. The Futureheads.

Gene Krupa. The Get Up Kids. Gorillaz. Grandmaster Flash.

Hans Zimmer. Heatmiser. Hole. The Hollies. Husker Du.

Ikettes. Iron & Wine.

Jack Johnson. The Jam. Jawbreaker. Jeff Buckley. Jefferson Airplane. Jeru The Damaja. Jimmy Soul. Joanna Newsom. Johnny Cash. Johnny Kidd & The Pirates. Journey. Joy Division. Juliette & The Licks. Jurassic 5.

Kano. Karate. Kasabian. The Kills. The Kings of Convenience. The Kinks.

Langley Schools Music Project. Lauryn Hill. LCD Soundsystem. Le Tigre. Lifetime. LL Cool J. Louis XIV.

The Magic Numbers. Magnolia Electric Company. Mars Volta. Martha Wainwright. Marvin Gaye. Mates of State. McFly. Michael Jackson. Miles Davis. Misfits. Mission of Burma. Mountain Goats. The Movielife. Moving Units.

N.E.R.D. Nada Surf. Nas. Neko Case. Neutral Milk Hotel. Nina Nastasia. Nirvana.

OK Go. OMD. The Others. Otis Redding.

Patrick Wolf. Pavement. Pelican. Peter, Paul & Mary. Phantom Planet. Phoenix. The Pink Mountaintops. Pixies. The Ponys. The Pretenders. Psychedelic Furs. Public Enemy. Puccini.

Q and not U.

REM. The Radio Dept. Radiohead. The Rakes. The Ramones. Ray Charles. Red Hot Chili Peppers. The Redwalls. Richard Hell & The Voidoids. Rick James. Rick Springfield. Rilo Kiley. The Rolling Stones. Roxy Music. Rufus Wainwright. Rupert Holmes.

The Sadies. Saul Williams. Saves The Day. Sebadoh. Sex Pistols. The Shins. Shout Out Louds. Simon & Garfunkel. The Skyliners. The Slits. Smog. Smokey Robinson & The Miracles. Soft Cell. Songs: Ohia. Sonic Youth. Sons & Daughters. Soul for Real. Spandau Ballet. The Specials. Spoon. The Stanley Brothers. Stephen Malkmus. Stevie Nicks. Styx. Suzanne Vega.

Thelonius Monk. This Mortal Coil. Tilly & The Wall. Towers of London. The Transplants.

Valencia. The Velvet Underground. Verdi. Violent Femmes.

Wayne Newton. Weezer. The White Stripes. Wolf Parade.

Yo La Tengo.

The Zombies.


i think 'eclectic' may sum it up.

[and possibly also: not enough work so i actually had time - and nothing better to do - than write out everything that was on my ipod]

Monday, August 22, 2005

last orders and makeout dreams

things to cram in when briefly back in the big smoke in a month's time:
1. last orders at the bell & crown. i heart that pub.
2. dinner at the stockpot. old compton st one, i think.
3. spend hours walking around sainsburys. is it weird i miss supermarkets?
4. wagamamas: amai udon.
5. busaba: pad thai jay.
[to be continued...]

- -

you know how you have one of those dreams where you're making out with someone and you forget about it when you wake up [as you tend to do with most dreams] until you run into them and then it all comes back to you and that's *all* you can think of? and you're glad it's kind of dark 'cause you feel like you might be blushing?

yeah.


i'm not saying that happened or anything. i'm just saying.

Sunday, August 21, 2005

new haunts and total creeps

club overspill

misshapes was funny last night. i was in the hood earlier in the evening so i got my hand stamped and left. walked up to the chelsea apt. watered the flowers, stood on the roof deck for a bit absorbing the city. played the piano and drank whisky. felt a bit like tom waits. it got to about midnight and i figured i'd take off, so locked up and wandered back down to the west village. the queue (sorry, 'line') out luke & leroys was backed up a bit. kids spilling out the club onto the pavement (sorry, 'sidewalk') as ever. i felt a bit smug being able to bypass it all and just stroll straight it.

bumped into one of the kids in my class. one of the first things he says to me: "you don't hang out with the MB people do you. are you an outcast?" i was about to be offended when he explained he didn't hang out with them either (why would you ever want to?) - we both prefer doing our own thing. so we made a little outcasts club that we're the sole members of. i'm not sure a club for outcasts can have too many members, else they wouldn't be outcasts anymore, issit?

it was funny that i could walk into that place by myself and still be able to happily spend the night there. a bunch of people i knew, talking to randoms. made friends with the sweet coat check boy. almost got mown down by a fight inside as the bouncers threw some guy out (never seen that before there). bought a coke and topped up from my hipflask.

on friday i ran into orchard bar to use their bathroom quickly and to do a quick scout if my roommate was there (she'd said she might be). the doorman was carding some people but he saw me walking up and was like 'hi sweetie! go on in!' - which amused me but also made me think, 'maybe i go here too much.' i kind of thought that about misshapes last night too, when i could do what i did, go solo and still know kids and have fun. but i guess that's what moving someplace new is about, isn't it? you have to find a new circle to move in, new haunts to hang. these seem to have become mine. but there's good people and good times to be had.

my sister will be in town in about four weeks. it'll be interesting showing her these places.

oh, also on friday night, this total creep followed and harrassed me up 1st St and up a block of the bowery. he was like 'hey i'm married, but you wanna come with me?' i ignored him and walked past and he got back in his car and drove further up 1st then stopped and got out his car as i got nearer. he freaked me out. i managed to lose him amongst the overspill outside CBGBs. but what a dick. first time it's happened in this city.

sheesh, i'm bored. and a bit hungry. i want pizza.

Friday, August 19, 2005

old photos and the end of it all

Paul - cafe kick

i was browsing through some of my old photos online the other day and came across this. it's actually taken just over a year ago.

i wrote about paul a couple of weeks ago. i was on jones beach when i got a text that he'd had a heart attack. at the age of 23.

that's paul, see, the one in the foreground with the pink shirt. it was at Adam's bday last year, at Cafe Kick in Shoreditch (London). they're all Oxford University boys, you have to forgive them the shirts.

oh god, this creeps me out even more. it was taken exactly a year before paul died. i got the text on adam's birthday this year.

but - photos, by their nature, are both ephemeral and everlasting, because they capture a moment that can never happen again. and i was just staring at this photo, thinking "you'll never play foosball again. you'll never share a pint with your friends again. they'll never be able to share one with you."

his body still hasn't been "released" (doesn't that sound horrible) - i guess authorities wanted to make sure there wasn't any foul play or whatever. but - how can someone go from so - fuck.

i don't understand death. it's not even like he was in my close circle of peeps. my heart goes out to his friends and family.

it's just something i can't really get my head around. death, i mean. the end of it all. i suppose we're not really meant to.

- -

the crazy girl who sits next to me has been averaging about two slices of carrot cake a day so far this week.

okay, my attempt at upbeat didn't work. it probably came out more heartless. it's okay. i'll just stick with my current contemplative frame of mind whilst i compile contributors lists and head over in the rain to chelsea whole foods.

tell the good people in your life they mean something to you, kids.

Thursday, August 18, 2005

the far reaching implications of myopenbar and crazy people on the train



dear myopenbar

i know you're saying you were the ones that 'blew up' Bang @ No. 1 Chinese - and i'm not debating that - but i think i might use the phrase 'completely altered'.

last night some friends i haven't seen for a while (two of whom are in the foreground of above photo. just.) suggested going there as they hadn't been. last time i went there was about six weeks ago.

man, have the drink sizes shrunk. last time we got big glasses and generous measures. last night it looked like they were using punch glasses. and you really weren't kidding about not being able to get to the bar. i think half of most people's drinks seemed to go over me as they tried to fight their way through the crowds (and i tried to avoid having any more drink spilled on me).

the one bonus point: the bartender actually understood what i said this time, so i didn't wind up with vodka-cokes again (gross)

also, not that this is your fault, but there were a lot of guys wearing short, tight shorts. and one guy was even wearing white jeans.

another also, it became increasingly hard to take photos as the evening wore in. i couldn't get my targets in shot. now i'm not blaming you for this, saying that there were so many people there that i kept getting jostled while trying to use my cam. or that you'd told us about the free alcohol in the first place, which may or may not have had something to do with camera-missuse. i'm just saying, is all.

and as for far-reaching, i have people back in london telling me they've read about the site. and the (stupid) english kids here all talk about it too (that was nothing to do with me).

so consider that you have far more influence than you thought you ever would and remember: with great power, comes great responsibility...

- - -

this morning on the PATH train i was that crazy person that starts laughing for what seems like no reason. i was in fact remembering something i'd dreamed (it involved 3-dimensional cartoon fairy murals on the walls at Misshapes), but still. my apologies to all my fellow passengers. i'm not about to join the ranks of Teddy the homeless guy or the lunatic who parades through the cars showing everyone the pills in his hand.


i know you got soul. peace out.

Monday, August 15, 2005

beating the devil and dry thunderstorms

highights of the weekend:
* picking up Carter Beats The Devil as the boys were watching the football (the Premiership has restarted, yawwwwn...) and being totally suckered into it again. better the second time round, so far. what a great book.
* getting to play the piano (badly. and worse since it wasn't even in tune to begin with) at the apt. i'm meant to be housesitting (although yesterday afternoon was the first time i've set foot in it since they left. i felt guilty about watering the plants)
* walking down 22nd while the no-rain thunderstorm raged right overhead. lighting arcing down a block from where i stood, thunder rumbling in my breastbone, dark clouds so low it felt like you could touch them, and that weird grey-yellow light you get in thunderstorms. it was electrifying (no pun intended) and exhilarating.
* spending far longer than i realised (about two and half hours, probably) in the barnes & noble at 6th & 22nd reading magazines (V, Index, Flaunt...) in the coffee shop and wondering why it is exactly that i want to work for these kind of publications so much.
* getting to hang with miss lastrenge at alligator lounge, where you buy a drink, you get a free pizza. what an amazing deal.
* 3x stoli vanilla dash of lime juice. what a fab drink.
* walking back from the PATH station in the rain at about 1am, but not caring i got wet (i even had an umbrella in my bag) because walking along in the rain, singing 'across the universe' to myself, felt like a good kind of ending to the weekend.

lowlights:
most of the rest of it. up until about 6pm sunday evening it was kind of a nothing-verging on-crummy weekend.

actually, the barry mcghee show at deitch was good. went there with jeanie & roycebannon. it was fun, but the city was so fucking humid on saturday afternoon i felt like might melt or something, and it was giving me a supreme headache.

Sunday, August 14, 2005

absent friends and crappy bartenders

the bartender at misshapes is a knob-jockey.

i'm already back home at one thirty on a saturday night. pirates of the caribbean is on, which will probably preclude any actual work i could do (the rocky horror show was on last night. i *love* that film)

the whole sorting-out-flights situation is doing my head in. as are stupid bartenders and abusive text messages. and the whole generally being broke-as sitch. oh, also, there was this really strange old man at misshapes.

and to quote a recent conversation, "boys [really] are silly".

anyone up for sunday evening drinks at union pool or something? let me know... i hate sunday evenings.

cc, come home, your presence is sorely missed. and lauren, stop working so much!

Friday, August 12, 2005

welsh rarebit and sweet gay drummers

cc and sympathy

our first trip to tea and sympathy - for, well, tea (if i was a northerner, at any rate). we wandered on over after meeting in union sq about 7, after work. it was small and cramped and there were far too many kitsch teapots, but the ceiling reminded me of my granny's house, and just reading the menu (bangers and mash, baked beans, branston pickle, ribena) made my mouth water. what with only have approximately $45 to last me till next friday, CC was a love and treated me to welsh rarebit (*proper* grilled cheese with branston pickle on the side, sooooo good). it was super tasty and i just felt really satisfied and sleepy and very full afterwards. we checked out the attached shop as well where one of the guys nicked my ipod to check out what was on it. they were all english lads, two of them had broad northern accents. the shop was selling jaffa cakes and smarties and things - amazing. the markup - not so great. i'll just wait till i go back i think.

then we spent a long while dawdling over to the LES, stopping off for magazine obsessions and bathroom breaks and the need to stand in air-conditioned spaces like duane reade then finally turned up at the delancey.

the delancey is a shithole. seriously. i've heard a bunch about it, had some expectations - but it was w a c k. it was so bait. crummy crowd. no atmosphere. it did nothing for me. we paid to get into the basement where CC's friends were playing a gig and where there was still a half hour left of the open beer bar. but of course, we get down there and get told they've just run out of beer. we hung out for a while, inside for a bit (it was overly air-conditioned) and then outside talking the guys in the band that CC knows.

the band finally went on. they were coherent as a band but the music didn't really do too much for me, i have to be honest. it was quite... i dunno, 1990s. oasis. happy mondays. something. i hate oasis. but they had the cutest gay drummer. and the bass player and the guitar player called vince (i think) who's been banned from entering the UK but is trying to sort it out as they've got shows booked over there in like two weeks were both kind of hott too. so they were proficient and pretty, just not really my cuppa tea.

but live music... there's just something about it. i watch these guys play and get a real pang - almost kind of a pain in my stomach that i can't play anything. is 24 too late to learn? (for the record: always has been, always will be the drums. and the piano). but that feeling you get, when you're in a small venue and you can feel the music running through you and the bass is thumping and you can feel the drums in your breastbone. there's just something about that.

vive la musique rock.

i want that on a t-shirt.

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

NJ rocks and NY love

the speech? finished just before class. i went second. i probably spoke too fast. i rounded up the talk with the phrase 'new jersey rawks'. and the lecturer loved it, my classmates laughed. mwahahaha. it doesn't always pay to be prepared...

peace has been more or less restored at 2102. dinner was cooked last night. we all sat down together, all six of us plus J1's gf and another girl who was over to talk about a group project with J1 and Jasmin. V was meant to bring back wine but instead picked up the hugest bottle of Sangria ever. it was more of a flagon or something. and we watched the last half hour of Freddy vs. Jason with no clue what was going on, talking about horror movies we watched when little.

* *

i feel like my world has been blown apart this week, as a result of really bad things, but in a positive way. i don't really know how to explain this. but it feels like it's time to move on with love, life and the universe or something.
new york: i'm back in love with you. it's been a rough couple of weeks or so, but your charms are winning me back.

chinatown sunset
[sunset from my friend's chinatown rooftop]

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

the one you want and all about you

songs most stuck in my head the past couple days:

- across the universe/rufus wainwright [as ever]
- the one you want/get up kids
- the space between/valencia [seriously]
- misery is a butterfly/blond redhead

songs i tend to sing louder than i realise when walking round the office/up 6th ave:

- misery is a butterfly/blond redhead
- danke schoen/wayne newton
- all about you/mcfly [yes fine, laugh]
- i only have eyes for you/the flamingos

songs that would go on my best songs in history ever mix tape (more of which at a later date):

- i only have eyes for you/the flamingos
- girl from the north country/johnny cash & bob dylan
- wild horses/rolling stones
- across the universe/rufus wainwright or the beatles, i don't mind

i have to do my speech tonight. i still haven't finished writing it let alone practiced saying it.

yikes.

Monday, August 08, 2005

he was only 23

so we're at jones beach. i'm reading 'period'. i get a text from hf.

this kid i kind of know died yesterday. his name is paul. he was a close friend of one of my good friends from high school; they met at university. so i didn't know him that well, just from parties and stuff.

he was swimming. he had a massive heart attack and died. he was 23. twenty-fucking-three.

later i go to a gig in brooklyn. i don't know barely anyone there and spend half the time hiding outside, reading 'god, jr' on a stoop a couple doors down, waiting to hear back from a couple of other kids i'm meant to be meeting in w'burg afterwards. i feel retarded for hiding and not going in. i still can't quite get my head round paul.

today i'm super sunburnt. i think the ocean washed off the factor 25 i put on - and i forgot to cover my legs (stupid. i've had this fair skin my whole life, you'd think i'd know by now).

two dennis cooper books in one day. now i'm off work sick (sunstroke/burn) and i have nothing to read. a trip to the beach. an hilarious conversation with a little boy on the LIRR back about superheroes ("that dark bader was a baaad customer. i'm gonna be batman for hawwoween.") i have to write a five minute speech for - well, tonight but as i'm out sick i'm trying to change my class till tmrw - and i don't know what to talk about. flights back to the UK for $500, only i'm $300 short of that.

and life is so finite and short and fucked up and he was only twenty three and had so much ahead of him and now what?

Saturday, August 06, 2005

sweet drunk Queens boys and bags of blow

things we don't like:

1. random guy comes and sits down next to us at orchard bar last night. it's around midnight or so, so it's not at peak time in the bar. he seems kind of wired - i'm later told he was coked off his head. i'm far too crap and naive about this shit.

"you're both lovely - but i'm gay, i'm allowed to say that! what are your names? heather and ashley? okay! [well, no, but nevermind...] can i buy you a drink? hey, i have a load of blow! you want some?!" he says, waving four packets of charlie at us.

[my initial thought: he's a cop.]

2. how fucking defensive i'm being at the moment

3. that flights back to the UK are not really within my price range right now

4. orchard bar once it filled up. it felt kind of over.

things we do like:

1. the fact that crazy coke guy (who probably wasn't a cop, just incredibly unsubtle) got punched in the face by some other girl he was trying to pass his coke off on later.

2. sweet drunk Queens boys whose friends had disappeared with his cell phone and his car. he was standing outside orchard bar looking a little lost and asked us to be his best friends. we helped him use the payphone to call his friends (he was a bit drunk to use the phone). he was saying he hadn't drunk alcohol in 2 years, but his buddy was back on leave from fighting in Iraq and had thought it was a good idea to start again. and when i said i was from london he was like "i'm really sorry about the shit that's going on over there." he was sweet.

3. this apartment i get to housesit that i saw today. man, it is sah-weet. and there's a hott roof deck. sooo good.

4. i found a copy of 'God, Jr' in shakespeare & co. on bdway

Friday, August 05, 2005

scotch tape sculptures and a magazine obsession

The most productive thing I did yesterday:

* made a scotch tape sculpture of my little finger.

The most productive thing I did today:

* drew a back alley scene all around my polystyrene cup. we're talking drain pipes, trash cans, grates and cardboard boxes.

I think this might be the day that neverrrr ends. Good lord how it's dragging...

But:
Last day of the week, payday and potential adventures in the LES tonight, yay!
Keys to the Chelsea duplex and roof parties in Brooklyn tomorrow, yay!
Beach day on Sunday and gigs in Brooklyn, yay!

Okay, enough yaying. You get my drift.

I spent most of my lunch hour in a magazine shop, staring wide-eyed at all the displays, pouncing on those that interest me and scribbing their web addresses or contributing ed emails on my hand (which now looks like a little ink-dipped spider has crawled all over it).

Thursday, August 04, 2005

news alerts and "Team 2102"

D'you know what's a lovely thing to see as you turn on your computer monitor first thing in the morning? A BBC News Alert just sitting there, waiting to tell you that Al-Qaeda has promised more London attacks. It's enough to make anyone's morning.

Plus - it's the Ben Folds/Rufus Wainwright concert tonight in Prospect Park. I found out about it about two and a half months ago and have been rabbiting on about it ever since, trying to find someone to go with (didn't feel like hitting this one by myself). Except that I couldn't find anyone in time and now tickets are sold out.

So on a scale of one to ten, how pissed off was I when I discovered my male housemates all had tickets - especially in light of the apology email last week that said something about wanting me to feel more "included" in the house, more a part of "Team 2102" (ugh) - and hadn't asked me if I'd like to go when they bought them?

Yeah, these amps go to eleven, baby...

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

chelsea brownstones and donnie darko

Good news: someone in my office just offered me their duplex Chelsea brownstone apt to housesit for 10 days between Aug. 12th-24th. Result.

Bad news: am currently in middle of big email blow out. I fucking hate arguing by email. It’s unsatisfying and annoying and ridiculous. Actually I hate arguing, full stop (American translation: “period”). But I detest confrontation so it seems emails or IMs seems to be the way it happens. Plus, it's a lot harder to argue in person when there's 3000 miles and an ocean in between you and the other person.

Also:
Managed, once again, to procrastinate from work last night by dozing off, being coerced into watching the last half of Dirty Dancing (not that I needed much coercion), then making more playlists – one for an upcoming birthday, one for the newly-engaged.

Tell me, do you think it’s in bad taste to include a song entitled ‘There Will Be No Divorce’ (the Mountain Goats) on a CD you’re sending to someone who’s just become engaged? I was torn. It’s something of a judgement call.

Self-promotion moment:
6 Degrees finally put up the Richard Kelly (writer/dir Donnie Darko) interview - the interview was actually done like three years ago, for another publication. But whatever. It's finally out there. I'd like to point out I didn't edit this. It's a little oddly done.

Monday, August 01, 2005

the two paths diverge and i get a pep talk

So this and the myspace blog have been running pretty much concurrently recently, but it’s time to break away again.

Recently I’ve had this kind of feeling that I’m just standing still, that things have stalled or I’m just coasting along, but I don’t know why. It just sometimes feels like I’m not working towards anything.

And talking (in an emailing kind of way) with M- this morning, she made me actually answer why I felt this way, writing down four categories that I had to fill in (she was having a guidance counselor moment or something, I guess) – Work, Love, Personal (mental/general), and Social. I skipped the middle two and wrote huge long essays for the first and last; the writing and the living.

I guess maybe this past week hasn’t been the best time to reflect on the social, what with that email faux-pas (FYI, I can’t get that first line of it out of my head: “This girl is starting to do my head in...” truly is a great thing to read about yourself, from one of the only housemates you got on with). And the writing – I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like there could be such potential, but I never seem to do anything. People have offered me intros, I have to learn to take them up. And fight for more from L’s magazine or something. I don’t know.

But M-, in her pep-talk giving mood, sent me back the following reply:

"Just because you aren't as outgoing or confident as some other people, it does not make you "bad" at making friends. [Ally Sheedy in The Breakfast Club…] To be honest, I think a lot of it is in your head and you give off the impression that it will be hard work to get to know you when it really isn't. You don't have to have a connection with every person that you talk to...that's why the word acquaintance is in the English language.

As your friend, I have the duty (and right) to tell you when you are doing things that aren't necessarily the right thing (although that does not mean wrong). So I am allowed to say the following:

Get your arse in gear and sort out your writing stuff. You won't get anywhere unless you do something yourself. And stop building barriers around yourself. You get hurt but that's a part of life and learning - if you never open up you will stand still in your life.

So there - Miss Bossy Boots has spoken."

Oh, and today I also found out S- is engaged. For the past couple weeks she’s been trying to convince me to come home in September for “some party” – but when pressed would never really reveal what for. Her birthday being at the end of August, we were meant to assume something like that, but clearly when she puts that much effort into trying to get me to go back for a party, something’s up. So while I was kind of expecting something along the lines of it, when I read the email:

Yo;

Thought I should drop you a note before Fi squealed - yes, it's an engagement party, and you should get yo' ass over here for it. Booze, dancing, and much italian food.

Come oooooooooonnnnnn.......................
Ty (or is it Jack?) x


-my jaw kind of dropped. Yes, part of me was maybe expecting something like it, but most of me wasn’t, clearly. Maybe this is what brought on the standing still feeling.

But I'm going to be proactive (sounds like some kind of organic yogurt). I can't sit on here and bitch and moan and be moody, 'cause it's not much fun for me and it certainly ain't much fun for others. So. This week I will kindly and pleasantly ask for the introductions to the two magazines that different people have offered. I will pin a list on the back of my door of the people I want to work for and feel growing satisfaction as I manage to tick off the names, one by one, as I write for them. I will sit down and edit that big 139-page mofo. And I will be sociable when I go out and I will not spend very much money as I don't get paid till Friday and will relish every single second of living in this amazing city with all its opportunities for working and socialising, and not feel like I'm totally out of the London loop anymore.