A London recap

It's been more than amazing being back here for the past few days. So nice to be at home for the holidays. I think I deleted the post I wrote back in November, before I'd booked a ticket back, where I talked about how the ABC channel had been showing Home Alone all weekend, and every time I watched it I started bawling 'cause I wanted to go home to my family for Christmas.

I was greeted at the airport - well, by no one - we live pretty near Heathrow so my family has a knack of always being late to meet flights as they either underestimate how long it takes to get through customs [piss easy and very quick], or make you call once you're at baggage claim and then they set off. But my sister moseyed on up after I'd been waiting a couple minutes for them brandishing this wonderful sign:

Her logic was that there would be lots of people at Arrivals [there were] so she'd stand at the back holding this sign up high and I'd know it was her. The girl is indeed bananas, but it made me laugh after a long flight where the inflight entertainment system was down the whole time [yeah, thanks Virgin...]

We drove back to ours, had brunch. I went to get some juice out the fridge and saw this message my dad [Bruce] had left for my ma [Sara] - made me simulataneously grin upstoppably and kind of want to cry:

They've known each other for over 30 years, been married for over 27, had two bratty kids [yes I do mean my sister and I], been through so many ups and downs and yet still my dad leaves little messages in the fridge magnets for my momma...

My sister dragged me out Christmas shopping in the afternoon as we had nothing yet - I of course made beelines for Topshop and Primark, but we did eventually manage to come up with a pretty good haul of stuff for the parentals. And a little bit for ourselves... Primark, j'adore...

Christmas day we headed out to Suffolk where my mum's twin sister Tina and her fam live in a place called Aldeburgh. It's a little seaside place, where if you don't sail and drink heavily [not necessarily at the same time] there's not much to do. It was fun; my aunt and uncle are pretty heavy drinkers and my dad was trying to keep up so by 6pm, after we'd eaten, there were a lot pretty merry people [apart from me, who couldn't stomach more than a glass for some reason, and my cousin Ben who was on Lifeboat duty]. My aunt made us play some game she kept going on [and on] about - which was made so much more funnier by the fact that she was *quite* that drunk. Two of her best answers:

Jimmy: He wrote the James Bond books...
Tina: Ernest Hemingway!

Jimmy: One of the Sex Pistols, not Sid Vicious...
Tina: Sid Vicious!

Berrrilliant.

Boxing Day [Dec. 26th] me and my sister slept in pretty late while some Boxing Day barbecue started going on downstairs. We made it down there for about 2:30, grabbed some food and wine, ate, then escaped the house and walked down the sea a couple minutes away.

It was cold but in a North Sea way, kind of beautiful. The sky was a bruised pinkish purple colour - "looks like rain" my sister commented - a couple minutes later it started tipping it down, so we hid under the steps of the Lifeboat place.

I seemed to spend most of the couple days we spent there eating my own body weight in Quality Street and watching tv... so nice to do sometimes! And good British tv like I hadn't seen in ages like the Eastenders Christmas special [yes, when Alfie came back for Kat I did indeed have a tear in my eye...]

We left on the 27th to head back to London - the M25 was jam-packed where we get on at Essex, so we ended up driving through London which was kind of awesome, reminding myself of how amazing this city can also be...

Tower of London

London Eye & City Hall, on the South Bank

Westminster Abbey

and the journey was capped off by a pretty sunset [this from the Hammersmith flyover]

Since then I've just been enjoying being here; catching up with high school friends, going for Thai {Busabas on Wardour St], Vietnamese [as documented, with James D, in Shoreditch], Chinese [CCK, also on Wardour St - although the other end], going for quiet drinks, tripping over uneven paving stones and mashing up my knee, buying vinyl I'll listen to maybe two or three times before I have to leave it here as I have no turntable in NY [sob]...

And now I'm just procrastinating from packing [ugh]. Tomorrow I return to my wonderland in NY. And I still don't know exactly what I"m doing for New Years Eve...

today actually made me feel like i'm back in london again

Trying to juggle mittens-on-string, Starbucks cup and Polaroid camera, and I totally wipe out on the sidewalk/pavement [delete as appropriate] and mash up my knee. Spend the rest of the day limping around dramatically and whinging to James D. about it.

About a third of the shops are shut but wander in and out of various vintage and thrift stores around Commercial Road/Brick Lane [Rockit - yawwwn; The Laden Showroom - some interesting things;

Beyond Retro - would have been more fun if my knee wasn't absolutely caning at this point] - decide to head more into Shoreditch for drinks etc. Mosey around, in no particular hurry although it's facking freezing, loving all the street art that this area is covered in.

First two places we aim for are closed - we then realise it's not even four thirty. Head to Prague, a little cafe a couple doors down from JaguarShoes - get irish coffees. I show the guy behind the bar my gross knee, an American girl sitting nearby smiles at me showing him. James then gets a slightly girly [although tasty] cocktail as they're only three quid.

Move on to the Old Blue Last, figure it's worth just having a look [for some reason I'm on their mailing list, still ent figured out why]. The Vice pub is relatively empty and pretty cold. Some irritating aging hipsters in one corner. More Americans on the table next to us. We stand up to leave and I'm putting on my jacket with the mittens-on-string hanging out; the American guy is totally stoked on them. Genuinely, his face practically lights up.

Move on to a pub just down Curtain Road called The Barley Mow. James makes me try some new Belgian fruit flavoured beer - Fruili or something? Don't remember the name. We sit upstairs where there's only two other people who are playing the smallest game of Connect-4 I've ever seen. [The beer is okay by the way, not as weird as it sounds. Remember drinking Snakebite Black, pound-a-pint in uni? Kinda like that.] [For those that don't know: Snakebite Black = 1/2 cider, 1/2 lager, splash of blackcurrant squash or ribena. Erm, yum?]

Decide we're hungry so aim for some Vietnamese place on Kingsland Road James knows of.

"Don't worry, it's just down here I think. Just a way down here."

Not words I want to hear when it's about minus 5 and I'm shivering like a bastard. Luckily we chance upon the restaurant and it is as good as he promises and once I've warmed up with some Jasmin tea that takes the skin off my tongue, I'm happy as Larry, whoever Larry is.

Get home later and discover a sweet text:
"East London votes H-- D-- as most wanted immigrant of 2006! ... Jx"

otherwise known as a maladjust

Back in London and I:

* I almost get run over 'cause I can't remember which way to look when I cross the road
* I get yelled at by friends for asking for "the check" instead of the bill...
* ...and for tipping bartenders without thinking about it
* I can't figure out what size clothes I am in shops
* I get my 5ps [the size of dimes] and 10ps [the size of nickels] mixed up
* 20ps and 50ps seem extraordinarily shaped
* I tell my sister I'll meet her on line for the registers and she thinks I'm talking about the internet
* I ask where the restrooms are and get weird looks
* I forget that you need your ticket to get out of tube stations and cause huge traffic jams as I walk straight into the barriers [which don't open for me] then faff around trying to find what I've done with my travelcard as the ticket inspector stares at me huffily, a guard in the ticket booth is laughing at me and all the sales-weary shoppers behind growl and mutter "tourist"...

i'm sittin' in a railway station, got a ticket for my destination

It's not something I thought I'd hear myself say, but I am *so* looking forward to going home tonight.

I arrive in London Christmas Eve morning and for some reason thought it'd be a good idea to completely fill up my day with brunches and coffee and gingerbread house decorating parties and dinners and - I think I may need to invest in a case of Redbull as I always get hit hard with jetlag doing the NY-LON journey [although rarely coming from there to here].

But I can't wait to be able to see my momma and daddy and my Fi, to hang with my family for a bit. December has totally kicked my ass, and sometimes everyone needs a hug from their mum, right?

Happy: Chanukah
Christmas
Kwanzaa
December 25th
[delete as appropriate]

Back here in time for the New Years celebs which would be good if I had a clue what I was doing, but I don't so at the moment it's just back on the 31st...

Thanks New York for a fucken awesome year. I heart you and all the good people who've made it so great.

Sometimes I shouldn't be allowed to buy gifts

Is it in really bad taste that I got my sister the epileptic a flashing strobe light ring [$1.49 from Duane Reade] for Christmas?

I found it funny...

Buns of Steel

I'm fucken glad the MTA is slowly going back to work, but at least with all this walking the collective asses of NY should be getting nicely in shape.

we were talking about crushes

Why my friend's advice rules:

"I think you should proposition all of them and see what happens. Get really drunk one night and do it."

grinding to a halt

I have to say, the MTA subway strike is fucking irritating [although touch wood the PATH isn't affected] but the fact that it's the first one since 1980 puts London-let's-strike-every-other-week-Underground to shame.

The Private Men's Drinking Club

When I'm outside, walking down 5th ave on an errand, feeling a little manic but the fresh air reviving me, singing loudly to the Pixies and *coughalloutboycough* on my ipod, remembering embarrassing and/or funny things from last night -

- for instance, the Private Men's Drinking Club at Suarez's where the gentlemen were all looking very dapper and many were wearing fake mustaches [althought obviously Lauren looked way better than any of them in one], or the fact that despite meeting Alex Sarti seven or so months ago, the first night I hung out with these kids, I had my first conversation with him last night [umm, about the mall. We're Jersey kids, so sue us.] - and does anyone remember why Rob was giving me chinese burns like we were ten years old - or, for that matter, why I was letting him?? I have vague recollections of a conversation along the lines of:

Rob: Does this hurt?
Me: No. I have a younger sister, I'm used to this shit.
Rob: Does this hurt?
Me: No.
Rob: Does this hurt?
Me: Ow. Fuck. Yes.

- and the sun is shining, well then it's all gravy.

Then I get back to my desk and sit down and feel a teensy bit dizzy, headachy and possibly sick.

Serves me right? Good times...

my last friday in NY in 2005...

work xmas party - stick with the other young person - quite a lot of red wine - one of the partners starts making me do shots [!] - i leave after two shots before things start getting messy...



...rothko - lauren, ellen and gurj - blatantly topping up a soda lauren buys with vodka from a hipflask - then vodka i've brought in a poland spring bottle [i'm pure class, i know] and a can of red bull i've smuggled in - army of me - how cute are they?? - and how hott are my friends??...





...san loco on stanton - ellen, josh, matt and dave eating tacos, me and lauren crash their table - a guy falls asleep waiting for the bathrooms - no, seriously he did - hang there for an hour or so, discussing the merits of cinammon baby powder, the genius of mean girls, the wonder of sidekicks, the lameness of my cell phone, showering on tour buses, and i get blamed for the toilets in the London Underground...



...head up to orchard bar [where else?] - hang out with the always lovely coat check girl - run into the ever-suave alex suarez who i ent seen in ages - lauren decides to make out with the michael jackson painting on the wall - not that we were drunk or anything - run into ryland on the way out - have a feeling i promised i'd flash the DJ at sway on sunday to make him play an ivy league song - yikes...





...i love my life, i love my friends, i love nyc...

mixed-use? maybe. soulless - definitely.

In the lobby of my building, on the doorman's desk, there is a little plastic holder containing three different types of postcards, each advertising the wonders of my 'hood, Newport. [There's really very little to wonder at, btw]. One of the three depicts Newport at Christmas [even in the height of summer the cards are still there].

I nicked a bunch of the Christmas ones this morning and am sending them out as my holiday cards this year.

Total cheapskate or inspired genius? You decide.

Just to show you quite what a soulless hell-on-earth this place is [let me point out that the only reason I live here is b/c (a) I have to and (b) I don't have to pay rent.] The caption on the back of the card reads:

"Town Square Holiday Lighting in Newport - on the Jersey City Hudson River Waterfront - the Largest and Most Successful Mixed-Use Community in the World."

Awesome. [Actually the whole waterfront bit is kinda cool. We have fucken amazing views of the Manhattan skyline from here.]

Plus, these cards miss out the gem in the crown of the horrendously tacky decorations that have sprung up around Newport [more of which at a later date]: the wicker deer, strewn with fairy lights, dotted around the square. They're really something very special.

Oh my God - Danny DeVito! I love your work!

So last night, I had 'Mean Girls' with the commentary on playing on my laptop while I faffed around my room, tidying, sorting, avoiding doing that project [although I did manage to write a whole 20 words at one point]. And I came to the conclusion that both Tina Fey and Rachel McAdams are totally crushworthy. [La Lohan goes through phases...]

And then I was thinking about it this morning - is it weird that I have more girl crushes [both celeb and real people] than boy crushes at the moment?


Plus, and I'm not sure how I stumbled upon it - but check out this site. It's kind of like car-crash tv; so bad it's good. Who's That With Jeremy? The basic premise: dad takes photos of his little kid with as many famous people as possible. And writes it up as if it's the kid writing. Fo' real.

making the band

hanner says:
d'you still have your geeeetar?
Jamie says:
its up at my parents somewhere
Jamie says:
I think...
hanner says:
hmm. i've decided i want a guitar and/or drumset.
Jamie says:
your neigbours will love a drumset...
hanner says:
i know, right?
Jamie says:
sounds like a good plan to me
hanner says:
well if you find it and decide you don't want it and want to donate to the hannah-band let me know, i'm sure we can negotiate some kind of fee. of course, i don't play a lick and can't read music, but when did that ever stop anyone...
Jamie says:
never stopped pete doherty

* * *

I just sank to a new level of procrastination and edited my myspace page using one of those fancy edit things where you can put a picture as your background. Sigh. How old am, fourteen??

If only I was this interested in this marketing project.

1500 words to go...

On a scale of one to ten, how bad is it that I kinda want the remix of Kelly Clarkson's 'Since You've Been Gone' as my new ringtone, now I've discovered the lovely ladies of the LES already have 'Sugar We're Going Down' [my er, current ring] as their tones?

Someone needs to get 'Dance Dance' up as a ringtone. Word to your moms.

I heard there was a secret chord

I'd like to proclaim today as Jeff Buckley obsession day.

After hearing an absolutely appalling rendition - some might call it murder - of 'Hallelujah' last night by an amateur singer, I dug out 'Grace' when I got home and listened to it for the first time in ages.

Such an amazing album. Still makes me think of the first boy I was in love with.

And Hallelujah - when sung properly - still makes me cry [or get that almost-crying feeling] every time I hear it.

[check out this website about Buckley and watch the documentary the BBC made a few years back, it's pretty interesting]

Coming soon: Patrick Wolf obsession day. Which I seem to have at least once every three or four weeks.

Hertfordshire's burning

My two major childhood fears were "bad men" [namely burglars, I think] and wolves.

My teenage fears probably involved something like never meeting Keanu Reeves so he could see what a perfect match we were and would immediately get down on one knee.

After 9/11 my immediate and all-consuming fear was world war, nuclear attacks and London being obliterated. Although this died down after a few months when it was obvious that the media was propagating the fear and shit stirring for the sake of it.

Obviously the 7/7 bombings [and I'd like to say right now how much I loathe that we've come to refer to it like that] put people back on edge again, so my heart jumped to my throat when I read these accounts on the BBC of the huge Hertfordshire oil explosion - apparently the biggest explosion in Europe in peace time [and no, no terrorists are suspected, just an awful industrial accident]:

'Nuclear explosion'
The papers are full of eyewitness accounts, dramatic pictures of the fire and stories

from people living near the depot. One told the Guardian: "Soot blew out of the chimneys. My wife looked out, saw a mushroom cloud and said there's been a nuclear explosion".
The Daily Mirror says some people thought a plane had crashed, while others believed they had been hit by an earthquake, or even an al-Qaeda bomb.

"I just thought it was the end of the world," one man tells the paper.

In the kind of political climate we live in, can you blame them for that??

People in London and Surrey heard the blast. Can you imagine? It happened at 6am on a Sunday, so casualties have been kept to a minimum, but the fire is still raging. I was on the phone to my dad just now and he played me the news down the radio.

*photos kindly nicked from the BBC site

thoughts and comments from my uneventful weekend

Crashing & Burning: seems to be my new Friday night hobby.

Heathers: AWESOME. My god I'd forgotten what a great movie it is. An excellent one to, well, crash and burn in front of on Friday nights when you feel sniffly and the thought of going back out in the cold is too much.

There are some bands whose music videos just make me love them more: and The Rakes-22 Grand Job [for its cheap look] and We Are Scientists-Nobody Move [for its general WTF-ness] are definitely two of them.

Rated X: more like Rated Xmas. Everyone there seemed to be dressed as Santa. No idea why. Quote of the night - Mike: "I'm Jewish. This sucks."

Misshapes: is it wrong to say I think it's a little over? Maybe it was just 'cause it was the first night, teething difficulties, I'm resistant to change - whatever. We turned up about 2 and Don Hill's totally wasn't doing it for me. Sorry. Maybe there's room in town for a new Saturday night party...

The Imaginary Socialite: first we discovered through the medium of Flickr that we had overlapping worlds yet had never met. Now we keep running into each other. This is a good thing because she's an absolute doll.

Narnia: loved it, even if it was a little Disneyfied and occasionally glossy. I wondered what CS Lewis would think of Aslan being referred to as a "top geezer" but otherwise I don't have many complaints.

However: nothing will ever replace the wonderful 1988 BBC adaptation of The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe - a television event that defined a generation [you think I'm joking...] The children were a wonderful mixture of being very BBC, very stage school, and very British. [Saying that, I was superimpressed with the casting and acting of the kids in the new film.] But oh, the fabulous cheap production values and awful special effects! It will never be replaced in my heart. I urge you all to see it at some point.

Well colour me unsurprised...

Like none of us knew this was coming:

I once heard that the MisShapes had said they'd never throw the MisShapes party anywhere other than Luke & Leroy's. I thought that was kind of sweet, admired them for their integrity or whatever.

But, as Harold Zidler once said, "the show must go on"...

I don't yet know if my weekend plans [strangely booked up both Friday and Saturday, and this whole weekend is very much the carrot at the end of this headache-inducing week] will include a visit to the new location but I wish them well and many more teenage clientele to rock the party.

laund-o-drama

i really have to do some laundry, stat, else i'll be going commando out of necessity rather than choice - and let's face it, it's a little cold to go commando right now.

except that i have a ton of work on, lectures and meetings to attend [we went to one at FIT last night and for some reason I was disappointed that it wasn't more like Misshapes kids just in a classroom instead of a dance floor], 1990s-themed trivial pursuit to half-play - where we've discovered the answer to almost anything is one of the following: Beanie Babies, Chris Rock, Dan Quayle or Rush Limbaugh - as I do project work on the side, and always seem to forget or get home too late to be bothered to go do it.

quelle dilemma...

and a merry chrismukkah to you too

It's Friday night. It's midnight. I'm sat on my bed, in me PJs, working. There's something wrong with this scenario.

It's Saturday. It's bloody freezing. For some reason I think it's a good idea to go to Canal Street, forgetting about the horrendous crowds. On the walk up from the WTC PATH station, I stop by the Dance Party Deli - only there's no music, they're playing the news from the radio [three women killed when minibus overturns] and it's more Downer Deli than Dance Party. I hit up Pearl Arts - the main reason for going - and am so overwhelmed and kid-in-a-candy-store-like, I leave without a single purchase. the JMZ takes me to Marcy and I walk round to Bedford, stopping by American Apparel to say hello to a croaky Lauren who sounds like she's been smoking 40 a day, then on up to Graham, when my crappy pay-as-you-go phone runs out of credit and I'm hanging around in the blistering cold trying to make Miss C notice I'm knocking at her front door.

Later, back in JC, and it's time for Chrismukkah dinner at ours: all five of us plus the Uptown [although originally from Jersey] girls and two boyfriends. There's enough food and booze to feed a small army, and with an even six Gentiles to six Jews it's pretty fair to call it Chrismukkah.

It's been decided that we have to 'dress up' - hence Jasmin looking fabulous taking roast potatoes out the oven and the boys in suits in the background. I prance around in my ebay-bought Marc Jacobs dress all evening, not being bothered to take it off when we go out and suffering from the severe cold as a result.

Whilst some whip out the Trivial Pursuit in the living room, a private Kylie Dance Party goes on in one of the bedrooms, before the dancing is moved to Misshapes, where I finally meet and hang out with the very lovely Ellen and her friends Anya and Faran. At one point I'm in Hercules' deli across the road, buying OJ [to top up with vodka from hipflask, although pretend I'm classier than that and didn't just admit to it] and start chatting with a woman in there who turns out to be good mates with Billy Idol [!]

As I step outside Luke & Leroy's, after hearing many mutterings about it being the last one there [odds on Don Hill's, anyone?], it's started to snow, and I'm in awe.

Back in JC and the 'hood is looking very white and festive:

and even the garish and somewhat tacky Christmas lights they have everywhere look kinda pretty in the muted snow-light.

What do you call a one-armed drummer?

Rick-fucken-Allen, foo'.

So last night, after a feast cooked up by yours truly [Thursday is the one day of the week when I actually bother to cook as it's dinner-and-The OC-date night, so it's not just myself I have to feed] and a helping of rich young Californians being bitchy, spoilt and hit by cars, we were channel-hopping and came across this gem. Or rather, I hopped right past it but a cacaphony of "LEAVE IT!!" soon made me hop back...

Where to start... VH1 was playing Hysteria: The Def Leppard Story, a made-for-tv movie about the band - who I actually know very little about, but was clearly sitting with three of their biggest fans...

It was inspired genius. The Sheffield accents were beyond dodgy and Sheffield itself looked more like - well, Montreal according to the filming locations on IMDB, the hair was just awesome - oh, the 1980s... - Anthony Michael 'The Geek from John Hughes movies' played Mutt Lange, and I couldn't stop laughing at the fact that even with the glam 80's mansions and recording studios, the dude was still driving a crappy beat-up Volvo. But it was worth it just to see Allen play the drums again, hear the incredibly politically-incorrect jokes my boy roomies were making, and have Jaz and CC rockin out to 'Pour Some Sugar On Me' or whatever the hell that song is called.