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.

Thoughts upon reading NME:

[yes, I'm wasting time at work - I'm covering the phones, yo, not much else to do - by reading the NME's Cool List 2005 issue]

* JOHNNY BORRELL IS NOT COOL
I frickin hate Razorshite. He shouldn't be there. And at #24? Ugh.

* The lead My Chem dude - who's name I've now definitively found out is Gerard. I'm not good with names. I only knew that Mikey one - looks strangely beautiful in the photo they have of him [#20]

* The Cribs [#14] need to book an urgent visit to Toni & Guy or something, stat. That hair... sheesh.

* I'm really not convinced with Liam Gallagher at #2 and Alex Turner at #1 [as mentioned previously]. Maybe I'll create my own Cool List 2005. But call it something better.

* What's up with Yorkshire being the total hotbed of English musical talent? Is it 'cause they ent got tellies and electricty oop north [can you tell I'm a Southerner?] [And before the hating comments start: I'm clearly joking. I ent racist. One of my best friends is from Yorkshire...] that they have to make their own fun by making music?

Status Update:

Current Mood:
Not the best as my co-worker isn’t in again today – it’s totally taking the piss. You have to make some effort with work – that’s why it’s called ‘work', surely – and you can’t stay home every time you have a bit of a sore throat or you’re overtired. Hell, I got like 2 hours sleep last night, I’d much rather have stayed home. But there’s a thing called responsibility and obligation, innit.

Currently listening to:
Myself singing, humming and whistling various songs, especially The Walkmen/The Rat, Motion City Soundtrack/Everything’s Alright [gets badly stuck in me head], The Cribs/Mirror Kissers and The Paddingtons/50 to a Pound

Currently Haunted By:
The Walkmen/The Rat. I left Orchard Bar last Friday as it was playing; I turned on my ipod [set to shuffle] waiting at 2nd Ave station [rat-watching, incidentally] and it was the first song to come on. As I stroll up to Misshapes on Saturday night coming back from the Tribeca Grand it’s on my ipod again; I take off my earphones as I get to the door and hear the same song blasting out from inside. It’s everywhere I go. Pretty lucky it’s an awesome song then.

Current Thoughts On:
This weird mercurial weather – global fucken warming.

The word ‘mercurial’ – awesome.

Dark Room – until last night hadn’t been there since July/where I first hung out with CC in NY/I made out against that pillar/first coke experience/CC and Jordan’s dance off outside [see clip]/a fair few drunken nights – especially when we were drinking on the house/oh god remember when someone then ordered that round of Jagermeister shots…

Boy Crushes – bad news; I try to actively discourage myself from participating as it rarely-to-never leads to anything good. Plus I usually get really unwise crushes.

Girl Crushes – just as bad but totally different and thus not necessarily to be avoided

Going out tonight – do I? Don’t I? What are the options? I should probably chill and save some money. And, y’know, do some of that fucken massive stack of work I have to get done before Dec. 20th.

Pete Doherty – thank fuck NME seems to be cooling off – if only a little – on its suck-his-cock attitude

Alex [Arctic Monkey] Turner – oh fuck, NME just crowned him King of Cool? He’s like, what, 12? “Alex’s lyrics are working-class Yorkshire teendom flayed open at the guts and spilled steaming across the indie club dancefloor, and they speak to the hearts and souls of our tormented youth as directly as Pete’s did before it all went supermodel-shaped.” And no, Lauren Ashley, he really isn’t a hot teenager. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again: you want hot teenagers, go to Misshapes

Lauren Ashley [Blogster] – the best. Seriously. Even if she does think aforementioned Arctic Monkey is hot.

Sunday nights - will be the new Friday nights in tha Oh-Six - ya heard it here first.

Man In Black

Let's get this out the way: I love Johnny Cash.

The most popular artist on my itunes is Johnny Cash.

The one Misshapes photo that exists of me [I hate having my photo taken. I see Hot Scott and his camera anywhere in my vicinity, I duck and cover, just in case there's even the slightest chance I'll just get caught in someone else's shot] is me wearing my Johnny Cash tee.

I knew I'd made a friend for life in my good bud Jimmyjames when, for assisting in the art department on a short film he was art directing, he gave me a burned set of CDs of the 'Unearthed' box set by... Johnny Cash.

One of my top five songs of all time is Girl From The North Country by [Bob Dylan and] Johnny Cash.

I once spent a week in my room, never opening the curtains, only leaving to go to the bathroom or make tea and toast, barely making contact with the outside world, all the while listening to Johnny Cash [although possibly the less said about this week, the better].

So it's fair to say I had high expectations for Walk The Line. Lucky for them, it didn't disappoint. [The two leads do a great job - and they do their own singing.]

I'm not going to write a proper review. I'm not a film reviewer. The one time I had to write one for a zine, was like blood from a stone. So I'll just say this: Go see it, y'all.

the future's owned by you and me

I was watching them, standing there, her 'n him, the two of them, cute and friendly as puppies, and I couldn't decide who I'd rather make out with more.

Misshapes started off empty as, then by the time I got back later on from the Tribeca Grand, it was its usual buzzing self. Full of hott teenagers...

And for some reason I never realised The Cribs were northern. They were sweet.

Digital Ash in a Jersey City Urn

Text received: "So what's goin' on?"
Text I send back: "On line for the Bright Eyes show, it's fucking freezing"
What I think: "Holy crap. 'On line?' 'Show'? Could I sound more bloody American??"

View this clip on Vimeo

Loews Landmark Theater, Jersey City: beautiful place, lousy gig venue
The Magic Numbers: rocked my socks off
Feist: beautiful as ever
Connor Oberst: good but I've seen him play a better set. Maybe it was the audience.
Teenagers: so very irritating
Hoodies: what the hell? is it some "emo" thing? This kid wore his up the whole evening.

happy tofurkey [hey, i'm a vegetarian]

okay, so thanksgiving means very little to me besides a four day weekend [you all understand that t-g is something to do with the pilgrims landing in america, thus making it an *american* holiday? and being english, that would mean we don't celebrate it in england, right? 'cause it's strange the amount of people who've been surprised when i've said we don't have thanksgiving in the UK] but in the spirit of things, i'd like to give thanks for [in no order]:

* NYC
* all the amazing people i've met here, especially CCK/LAS/RH without whom my NY experience just wouldn't be the same
* this past summer
* myopenbar.com for fuelling this past summer
* myspace, for making it easier to keep up with people i've met here
* misshapes and orchard bar for some truly excellent evenings
* girl roomie for taking me to misshapes in the first place [and for her general fabness]
* LC and Lula magazine. Here's to many more to come, bub.
* my family
* the fact that my sister's heart-stopping seizures [wait - my heart; her brain-stopping-] didn't mean something worse than they did
* the people back home who've leant me moral support and a stream of emails when tingz were rough over here
* my dad learning what AIM is, thus saving transatlantic phone calls and more people to chat with when wasting time at work

crap. why can i not think of any more? this is terrible. i'm thankful for everything i have and have experienced and to all of you who've made a difference to me. i hope everyone stays warm and well and has a great thanksgiving.

after a summer of liver failure, the MyOpenBar launch party...

So we got out of class early last night [supposed to go on till 9, egads] so I decided for some reason it would be a good idea to walk from class – on E. 42nd, opposite Grand Central – down to The Delancey, where the myopenbar [belated] launch party was.

One block on, I was thinking that in the kind of minus degree temperatures it was, it wasn’t such a good plan.

By the time I got to 31st, I was about ready to give up and head over to 6th to get the F.

By 28th, I was numb. So I carried on.

And eventually arrived down at the Delancey to find out THE OPEN BAR HAD ALREADY RUN OUT. Shoddy behaviour, chaps…

i'm on fiyah!

So it's almost ten, Lauren, Jenne and I are about to leave my apt in JC to head to the NOY show at Maxwells [Hobroken], after having consumed a fair amount of drink generously donated by Bacardi. There's this really irritating beeping noise been going on for about five minutes. As it doesn't sound too urgent, we assume it's the portable phone battery announcing its imminent death and ignore it, or yell at it to shut up.

We get a call that the car we ordered is waiting downstairs. Lauren opens the front door. She shuts it again very quickly.

"Umm, gather all your valuables, we should get the hell out of here. Your building is on fire."

The corridor is full of smoke. Yes ladies and gentlemen, being the clever souls that we are, we've been ignoring the fact the fire alarm [I'd like to point out right now quite how unalarming and un-urgent it was] has been going off for so long.

Lauren, Jenne and two of Jaz's friends who have been round all go downstairs while Jaz, growing a little panicked - especially as there's a PA announcing the evacuation of the building - frantically searches for her keys while I try and calm her down and tell her she can use mine.

We give up, make our way down 21 flights of stairs [I get insanely dizzy]. We get downstairs to be greeted by a ton of firetrucks and residents trying to keep warm. I hand Jaz my "valuables" [a rucksack into which I threw my laptop, my DS2019 form - the visa form that lets me in and out of the country - and, er, a couple of magazines. Nice to see how I prioritise things...] then me, Lauren and Jenne scarper off to Maxwells, leaving the fire to the firemen.

And that was pretty much the most excitement I got this weekend.

The Nightmare of You show was great, although standing next to the speaker wasn't the best idea. The cab ride to the LES was very funny because Lauren and Lauren [yes, it got confusing] spent the whole journey speaking as if they were wearing industrial strength braces. And head gear. Orchard bar was crowded as ever, but great to see peeps I haven't seen in a while and meet an assortment of new people including Gurj's hot friends and the lovely Imaginary Socialite [or did i just imagine meeting her?]

And, er, the rest of the weekend was spent in a blur of trying to stay warm, Buffy season 7 and Brat Pack movies. Awesome...

nothing like some good ol' homegrown rock-n-fuckin-roll

[that's right mofos, i got me a new camera. had to mug an old lady after work and steal her pension to afford it, but whatevs...]

so tonight me and me old china, miss lauren, visited the bowery ballroom to be serenaded by yorkshire's finest, the arctic monkeys.

what. a. show.

[to clarify, people: i mean it was good. it rocked. almost as good as the We Are Scientists show. maybe on a par. so gerry from LA, read things properly before mouthing off in the comments section.]

so many fucking english people there though, most of 'em drunk and obnoxious. lots of them yelling about sheffield or halifax or some other goddamn northern town, innit. it was enough to make me want to disown my nationality. to make matters worse there were a fair few that i knew, the MB kids who i always avoid, so i spent half the time hiding from those jerkoffs.

the crowd was crazy - i don't know if it was the amount of limeys there or what, but i've never seen a crowd so hyped and into it - well, since leaving london, anyhow. but we had an awesome time and managed to avoid getting our toes jumped on. it was great, everyone singing along 'n shit.

it's a very british brand of rock-n-roll - do americans even know what "mardy" means? or what kind of people would wear "tracky bottoms tucked in socks"? - and after the catchy-as-hell and ever-so-american pop punk i keep finding myself humming [yes Fall Out Boy I'm referring to you] it made a nice change.

when we left, it was pissing it down again [not so much fun]. we headed up to max fish to go see jenne and joe and brandon; whilst there i was texting the Little Scottish Boy, as I wasn't sure if drinks at Fat Baby were still on or not, and got an excited response telling us he'd just met David Bowie. what the fuck, man. we left too early, clearly.

[see what you missed. a certain romance. excuse the slight shakiness. new cam and all that...]

View this clip on Vimeo

cock-a-doodle-what-the-fuck?

So there's this band in the UK called Rooster. I'm not really much of one for their music, but I'm happy to support 'em, champion them, whatever, as the singer, Nick Atkinson, is a local boy: I went to primary school with him [he was the year above], our younger sisters were best friends until the age of about 10, and I used to looked after his little godson, George, before I moved out here. In fact, I accredit Nick with my obsession with drums: me and my sister were at their house being looked after by their childminder yeeaaaarrrrs ago [I was probably about 9 or so] and he let me play with his drums.

Okay, that sounds kinda wrong.

He let me touch his drumset.

Even worse. There's no way to write that without it sounding like a double-entendre. We were kids, for chrissakes, get yer minds out the gutter.

Anyway, my point is this: having not thought about the band in a while, I went to their website the other day to see what they're up to currently, and as the page was loading up, one of their tunes started playing.

A rock-lite cover of No Diggity.

Oi! Rooster! NO!*

No no no no NO. Just plain wrong. Nick, you may have grown from geeky kid to good-looking rawkstah, you may have the cutest godson ever, you may be a Chiswick boy but there are some things that are sacred and Blackstreet's No Diggity is one of them.

*possibly a joke only the english, or harry enfield-loving americans, will get...

we regressed to 13 year olds and snuck in to see "shopgirl"...

I swear to god, Jason Schwartzman is the love child of Rob Hitt and Alex Sarti.

i heart the tarts

i'd quite like to marry the tarts of pleasure right now.

and no, i'm not drunk. i wasn't drinking tonight. just totally red bulled up. hence why i'm still awake at 6:30am with no sign of falling asleep for a while...

i just had such a fabulous time at stolen transmission this evening, which i haven't done in aaaaaaages [mainly 'cause i haven't been there partying in a long time. this made me realise i should go much more often]. i kinda prefer it to misshapes, it's smaller and hotter and equally boring lines for the bathrooms, but it's less... sceney? i don't know. but SO. MUCH. FUN. and great music. sarah and karen, i love you.

they should totally start charging for the amount of bags and sweaters and jackets they look after though. on that note, if anyone sees a black sweater, it got mislaid somewhere in the DJ booth when bags got rearranged so their friend josh could crash at the back there.

dance parties are so much fun.

highlights:
- the manic dancers we saw at Lit beforehand, that CC and Jenne decided to battle. comedy.
- jenne & CC deciding to put on english accents on the walk from Lit to Orchard Bar. i haven't laughed that hard in a long long time. they were actually fairly good - jenne just sounded like a posh english person. and they were tring to drop in all the english slang they knew: "are you taking the piss?" "oh bloody hell, you bloody twat" "fancy a cuppa?" they started talking to some guy who walked past and i think they convinced him 'cause he yelled after them "tip your bartender!" god, they were brilliant. so funny.
- the fact that they were projecting 'you got served' on the back wall. cheesy hip hop movies - hollaaaa!
- the amount of tunes that were being played. it's awesome when the crowd really responds to a song
- the 'remix' of the harvey danger song
- the people properly grinding up against the back wall... and gurj bellowing across the dance floor "look at them! look at what they're doing!" brilliant.
- running into leith's friend jenny who i haven't seen for aaaaages
- the fact that i wasn't drunk so the journey home was a piece of piss. no falling asleep on the train.
- oh whatevs, the whole night. like i say, i needed a night like that as there hasn't been one for a while and it was FUN.

okay, the red bull still isn't wearing off so i'm going to be hyper elsewhere. shit, it's kind of daylight outside. yikes. fucking caffeine.

Circle.Square.Triangle

yes, this is blatantly stolen from their myspace page but i still don't have a mofo camera and i want to put pretty pictures up. and check it, they're hot.

Test Icicles pretty much rawked last night but I wasn't super impressed with Cake Shop as a venue. The sound system/acoustics seemed kinda crummy. And there was this hugely irritating guy down the front who kept trying to interact with the band, grabbing the mic and yelling "Fuck Chelsea!" Yeah, as if he even knows where Chelsea [London] is. These very-pretty-and-no-doubt-I've-seen-them-at-Misshapes-before boys behind us were talking about him as if he's something of a regular at gigs. They weren't impressed by him either. What a knob jockey.

Yes Johnathan from Georgia, I'm talking about you.

But T.I. - young, cute, English, exuberant... there were some times when it felt like they playing at home, just trying to make as much noise as possible to piss off their mum/dad/sister trying to revise for her GCSEs/neighbours, but there's some kind of charm in that, no?

Kudos also has to go out to Seva for helping me out last night doing what I couldn't [what almost led me to punch my mac] and helping me put my errant website in order. Cheers dood.

so are the days of our lives...

So I keep starting to write a six-month review - can you believe it? I've been here six months already... like sands through the hourglass etc etc - but I'm in a very honest mood at the moment, and keep ending up deleting half the shit I write. So I'll summarise a few points so far:

* This summer was a strange mixture of amazing highs and crappy lows without much balance or normality in between, and although the lows really were fucking low, the highs totally outweighed them and I think I can easily say 2005 was one of the best summers I've had in a fucking long time

* There are some people without whom my experience in NY wouldn't be the same; I'm not going to name-drop them because otherwise I might start gushing and I don't want to embarrass them or me, but I really hope they know who they are, how much they mean to me and how much I appreciate all they've done for me

* I just haven't missed London at all. I guess I've missed the people I left there though...

*...Although sometimes it's more like I miss the calibre of friendships I have there, if that makes sense. The safety net of people I have there. That's a better way of putting it. But we all need to get away from that at some point in our lives, just to see how we respond, who it makes us [blech, I feel like some drugstore psychology is imminent]

* I miss hanging out with boys. It's one thing to text or message a chick you kind of know and be like "you want to grab some dinner/hit up this open bar/etc" but, maybe it's just me being pony, it has a slightly different resonance when you do it to a guy you don't know so well. I miss James D, how easy it was just to be like "yeah let's go for a drink" - there was never anything in that. Totally platonic. Hmm, maybe it *is* just me being crap.

* It's really interesting meeting new people, being introduced to new people, and watching how they react. Guys are - whatever, they're usually friendly, but girls - well, girls are very different. They'll either be lovely or they'll be pretty aloof and like "who is this new girl" [more so if it's a guy that's doing the introducing to me and one of their female friends or something]. It's kind of funny.

* I wish I had more friends. I mean, it's one thing to know kids at a party. Y'know, it can be kinda nice to be able to walk into, say, Orchard Bar or Misshapes and see peeps you know who'll say hi and stuff, but it's one thing to know people at a bar and another to have people to hang out with. And there comes a point when just "knowing" people isn't enough. But I'm not very good at making them, I don't know how, and I hate inviting myself places, despite the fact I've had to do it quite a bit to get by. And I know it does pay off, but I still don't like doing it. Plus, it's really hard to, like, break into friendship groups and so on. People have their set ways or whatever. It can be tough. Be gentle, kids. I'm not out to be mean or steal anyone or make out with you, I just want people to hang with so I'm not constantly bothering the [very?] few people I usually bug for dinner or drinks or whatever. I don't want to bore them or annoy them. I've heard a lot of people bitching about "oh yeah this girl just moved to the city/broke up with her boyfriend and is always calling me now, wanting to hang out". I so don't want to be that girl.

* It can be weird how someone saying hi or recognising you or just making that tiny extra bit of effort can totally make or break a night.

* It's a good thing I'm pretty self-sufficient and happy with my own company [read: has a tendency to be anti-social...] because it totally came into play at the beginning of the summer. I tried my hardest with the other English kids, but they just don't float my boat, so why bother wasting time trying to be friends, chasing after them when I know I could - did - find better people? I just don't understand how or why they move to NYC for a year yet spend the whole time with one another hanging out in fucking Irish pubs or something. Just stay in the UK, morons.

* I think I broadened my musical horizons and absorbed more since I've been here than I feel I did in the last couple of years in the UK

* I automatically now find myself:
- saying Zee instead of Zed
- pronouncing 'route' as rowt instead of root
- using the words 'awesome' and 'rad' without a hint of irony
- going up at the end of every sentence
- saying 'make out' instead of 'pull' or 'snog'. Oh, or 'get off'. I totally forgot about that phrase till my roommate used it recently.
- that's another thing, I now say 'roommate' instead of housemate or flatmate.

Wishlist:
- more friends
- better clothes [have you seen how sharply dressed some of these kids are??]
- better visa [and I don't mean a credit card]
- ie, a job here [that pays more than this shitty thing does]
- to move out of JC and nearer my peeps
- more writing gigs
- a new fucking camera. I miss my digital bitch so much. Can't believe it died.
- a massage. My neck and shoulders are caning right now.
- a new back tire [or tyre] for my bike.

I think that's it. Six more months. It's going to go so fast. I have to work on this job thing. Anyone got any hints, throw 'em my way.

November's kicking my ass at the moment and I'm being a little anti-social, I need some party action so maybe I'll see yous all at the usual haunts. You know where I mean. And feel free to say hi.

one of those days, clearly

grrrrrrrrrrrrraaaaarhhhhhhhhhh

ARGH

hmpf.

and just when i thought the day might be picking up, it goes spectacularly downhill again.

fuck it. that's all i have to say on the matter.

i'm gonna go back to JC and - oooh i'm really craving taco bell or sushi right now - and make dinner and then ignore everyone and watch the royal tenenbaums in bed or something.

completed zines and armies of me

[polaroid as all my other beloved cams are broken or been nicked]

So Friday, we do the Deitch opening [totally trippy, I swear it would have made my sister's spacko brain shortwire again] and the Sonic Youth art thingy, but my head is aching so much I end up sitting on a stoop a couple doors down reading Anthony Burgess-

-as a small aside, has anyone else noticed quite how many hot guys work at Strand Books? it's obscene -

- then we split, P. goes back to Deitch and we head to Dean and Deluca where it's clearly our night for bargains as no one can really be bothered to properly charge us [and C. finds a metrocard on the floor that runs till the end of November]. We head back to the 'Burg and make some dinner and drink some wine and suddenly it's midnight and I, lame-arse that I am, can barely keep my eyes open.

Saturday feels like an April morning and I'm full of the joys of spring. We head down to the farmers' market in McCarren Park. While we're eating homemade muffins at a picnic table we spy Seva ride up, so we go and really subtly steal his bike while he's buying apples. Yeah, we're good thieves. It takes him about two seconds to track us round the other side of the van...

In the evening, which is slightly humid, like the start of summer, I head to the Knitting Factory to go see Army of Me with Gurj and her friend Leslie, who was lovely and had awesome pins on her jacket. Army of Me rock hard, I enjoy seeing them, then everyone heads through to the bar. Everyone - everyone - seems to be in the music bidness, and I feel a tad out of my depth. Gurj meets two friends she knows from Lahndahn, she used to work with, so I can at least follow their conversations about Popworld...

Me, Gurj and Leslie split about 10ish, although it feels like it should be midnight. We have a brief dance party in the deli round the corner, cab it back to G's apt in the LES, then collapse in front of Degrassi and Family Guy. A while later debates rage over whether to go to Misshapes, there seem to be multiple abusive AIM conversations with Rob Hitt, but in the end the two ladies decide to stay in. I'd love to stay where I am - that apartment has a black-hole like quality, you sit on the sofa and just get sucked in, never want to leave - but in the end I grab a cab on Clinton over to Misshapes, hook up with Lauren briefly to explain the no-shows, say hi to Rob and Omri, totally can't handle Misshapes sober so head up to the station. I walk up Bedford again, the first time since I was held-up on that street, and I surprise myself that I actually feel quite anxious. I walk in the road when possible, when there are no cars around. Get home around 2, girl-roomie is up and watching BBC America. No one else seems to be around.

Sunday and everything is done verrrry slowly. I spend a good couple hours in B&N poring over magazines [can't afford to buy 'em, just read them in store, pillaging the mastheads for contact deets...] then meet C. Back in Williamsburg we procrastinate, we make dinner, we watch footage of the fireworks from the previous night [I'm so sad I missed fireworks. I love Fireworks Night], we brainstorm for our zine [watch this space, fools] then we finally finally get the goddamn first ish of the zine all done and complete. Hurrah! So satisfying. Now to pass them out...

what're you gonna do today napoleon?

so i've always said i'd punch anyone i saw wearing one of those godawful vote for pedro shirts, but i think i could forgive this one. check it out:

shattered illusions

y'know how there's always that person that you frequently see at certain bars or clubs or whatever, and they hold some mysterious sway over you? you know what i mean? kind of like having a small crush [no matter how inappropriate] on this enigmatic character. you always find yourself saying stupid things anytime they talk to you.

and then you see them out of that situation, walking along, say, Fifth Avenue, jabbering into a cell phone and slurping coffee and suddenly - *poof!* - just like that, the mystery is gone and they're just a person again.

Something else I didn't remember:

Addendum to yesterday's post:
At dinner last night, the Last Supper at McKibben (C is relocating to around the Graham Ave L stop today) I was informed that not only was Adam-Ant/My Chem Romance-alike girl hitting on me [which the three ladies I was hanging with all found very amusing], some big guy was too. I don't remember this and clearly wasn't interested. Then apparently when we were all congregated around the bathrooms and I was still not paying them any attention, they went into a stall and started making out. Eww.

tricks and treats...

Friday: costume only half assembled. Get home late from the office, roommate is spectacularly dressed as Vampire Bride when I walk in. About 11pm her and her friend are about to leave, they get a call the Roxy has been shut down. No Motherfucker party (man am I glad I wasn’t planning on going). Quelle horreur. After consultations with various Brooklyn based peeps, I decide that it’s just too cold and I’m not totally feeling the witching season, so stay in.

Saturday: household chores done, costume has all the elements, just not in the right order. Heading over to the McKibben lofts to hang out and sort out costumes, I’m asked to pick up a bottle of wine and some fake blood [no, it’s not the basis of some weird ritual]. A bunch of places had already sold out of fake blood, so I head to a Ricky’s… where there are lines to get in about 20 people long, and staff monitoring the line like it’s a ride at an amusement park. Out. Of. Control. I end up joining the line, buying blood and things. Will cooks us an amazing dinner [it’s so nice to sit down at a table to eat with friends], we drink some wine, I play with the kitty [allergies schmallergies]. I have a nice wine buzz going on. We’re playing records. Will and Christian head on out, we say we’ll see them later. CC is prancing round in her Dead Heidi outfit, putting finishing touches to it, I’m probably going out as a vampire bunny [not the official costume, an alternative], we’re in contact with Lauren about a party in the East Village… Then somehow we’re sat in the kitchen chatting away drinking cups of tea and we lame out on plans, staying in to drink tea, play with the kitty, Peter’s playing guitar, there’s a dance party goin’ on down the hall that CC tries to persuade us to crash. No dice.

Sunday: wake up to a beautiful morning and a sneaky extra hour in bed as the clocks have gone back. We get up, put on records, CC makes tea and breakfast while I walk down to get the Sunday papers. Eggs Florentine and the NY Times as the sun streams in through the studio windows and 33 plays on the record player… beautiful. It feels like the first day of spring, not almost November. We go stand on the roof, taking it all in, then I realise I have to make the trek back to Joizey. The L is still fucked [why Halloween weekend, MTA? Why?] and the replacement shuttle buses are pretty crammed full. Stock up in Whole Foods Union Square before I waste my paycheck on crap [its so nice having a fridge/freezer/cupboards with actual food in them], get back to JC and only girl-roomie is around. I finish up my costume, sewing the appriopriate parts while half-watching the Goonies with her. She goes out a while later, ergo I have the place to myself. I move the furniture to one side in the living room – a place which is probably about 20 ft long – and have a lot of fun skateboarding around. Hard wood floors, can get up some good speed… I’m feeling hyperactive, decide to call my parents, not really thinking about the fact that it’s like 11 at night over there. My ma’s been working all weekend at a show and has been ill too, so she just ignores my bounciness. Poor momma. Roommates eventually start arriving back in dribs and drabs. I assemble my costume, head over to Lauren’s. We end up watching a really downbeat, sad episode of Grey’s Anatomy. Really conducive to the party spirit… Later we hook up with CC and head to Monsters Ball, drinking whisky along the way. It’s the beginning of my downfall…

Monster’s Ball: [things I remember]
• A lot of French people
• A lot of people dressed as Orthodox or Hassidic Jews
• This guy telling me that no one would understand how awesome my costume was [oh yeah, I went as a Warrior. Y’know, from the film The Warriors. It was rad. I had a bandana tied round my head ‘n everything.]
• Splitting to go find Sparks on Bedford Ave.
• A girl up a tree at Bedford and N 6th, screaming “I hate you!” at the top of her lungs as some guy tried to cajole her down. Surreal, even for Halloween, even for Williamsburg.
• Staring in horror at the window display of the Meat Palace or whatever the hell that place is called with the big ceramic pigs and bunnies and photos of Alec Baldwin and Freddie Prinze Jr.
• Chugging Sparks on the corner of N 10th before going back inside
• I should never have Sparks. Never.
• We go back inside and I notice they’re doing $3 “vampire shots” [whatever the hell that is] all night so I buy us each one. We thrown them back and all simultaneously agree they’re naaaaasty.
• Talking with Merlin about the coverage he got that morning in the Style section of the Sunday [NY] Times.
• Sarah turns up for her set. She tells us where the free vodka is. Oh dear.
• This girl who apparently looks like one of the dudes from My Chem Romance who’s dressed as Adam Ant thinks I’m hott and wants to make out. Nice to know I have options at least for when I entirely give up on the male species.

Things I don’t entirely remember:
• Most of the journey home [it’s an easy autopilot route back from the burg, lucky for me] [and, er, yikes]
• What time I got in
• What I’d done with my PATH metrocard this morning

Today, Halloween:
Wake up and I’ve overslept. Call into work and tell them I’m feeling a little under the weather but I’ll be in by about eleven. Eventually manage to crawl out of bed at about 10:30. Speaking to Lauren on AIM I discover I went back for more free vodka last night. This I don’t remember. Make some food. Think I’m feeling better so head to work. Get in at 12:30. Leave again at 1. Manage to hold it together on the PATH train, but it’s close. Get home, spend rest of day lying on sofa, watching Halloween-themed TV, like ‘Stephen King’s IT’ and, currently, Nightmare on Elm Street. Johnny Depp is so young and cute in this. Does he get killed? I don’t remember. I don’t even think I’ve ever seen this movie right the way through.

So Halloween-US style. Interesting. I’m missing the parade in the city [obviously]. I didn’t hit up many parties. I was impressed by the costumes and the lines at Ricky’s, clearly this shit is taken seriously here. I just had one tiny trick-or-treater but I wasn’t expecting any and we have nothing here [I also answered the door in my pajamas whilst talking on my cell phone. The mom was like “Oh – oh sorry, come on Rachel!”]

Happy Halloween and many tricks and treats to one and all.

I Are Scientist, You Are Scientist, We Are Scientists

We Are Scientists absolutely KILLED IT last night at the Bowery Ballroom. Fo' real. They fucking ruled.

I felt bad for Ambulance Ltd that they had to follow up after that.

I have a crush on all three Scientists. They played such a good set. The finale: the lead singer [totally hott] standing on the drum set, the bass player holding half the drums from falling down, all three of them tight together yelling into their mics with just the drums playing.

Okay, I'm gonna stop gushing soon, but if you get the chance go see the mofos. They rock ['n roll].

Highlight of the evening: [besides the W.A.S. set] Lauren doing her impression of a customer trying to find a little t-shirt for her dawg at her store.

Oh, and when I got back to Newport last night, the whole area smelled of maple syrup. It was most strange, and if I hadn't still been full from an amazing French dinner, I totally would have started craving pancakes.

We Are Scientists. Do it.

[I wish I knew a better way to do this - y'know, like those mp3 blogs or whatever - but I'm gonna have to stick with trusty ol' yousendit:

We Are Scientists-Nobody Move, Nobody Get Hurt

band site, which is as funny online as they are in person:
We Are Scientists

Can you tell they may be my New Favourite Band?

white belt alert

i'm wearing a white belt today.

do i need to be shot on the spot?

mp3 heaven and halloween dilemmas

I'm feeling remarkably chipper today, following the black cloud that seems to have been enveloping me recently. I had very odd dreams about Lula magazine and Jimmy and Leith and sealions and having random body parts grafted to other parts of my body. Very strange.

I think my ipod has finally bitten the dust. Kicked the bucket. Gone to the big Tekserve in the sky. The battery ran out as I got in to work yesterday morning, so I whacked it on charge for the day, picked it up when I left. As I left the building I turned it on. The first few tantalising bars of Kaiser Chiefs kicked in, lifted my spirits somewhat. I crossed the road. The battery died. I almost threw it on the ground and stamped on it [yes, I can be that childish]. I work round the corner from Tekserve on 23rd, so I went there to ask them about it. The dude was cool, he recommended coming back in the morning so they could change the battery for me as there was a bit of a line right then. Excellent. I'm happy. I'm walking out the door. He calls after me.

"Oh hey, what kinda ipod is it?"

"A mini."

Sharp intake of breath. "Oooh. Sorry. Nothing we can do for you then. We've tried changing mini batteries, just kills the ipod."

"So - nothing?!"

"Sorry."

Mother. Fuckers. Not even a year old. Totally going to bitch to Crapple about that one. 5 second battery life. My arse.

So last night I caught like the last half hour, forty minutes or so of 'Honey'. I've admitted to having a soft spot for cheesy hip-hop movies before, right?

So on a scale of 1 to 10, how bad is it that I found Lil' Romeo totally hot? He's like, fourteen or something. For shame!

Oh, and I still don't know what the eff to wear for Halloween. I went by this shop on 14th last night and was completely overwhelmed. England totally misses out on the Halloween efforts, swear to God.

reggae time and wet hot american summers

So I spent the whole weekend "running on reggae time" (new phrase of the weekend) (i.e., verrrry laid back and not keeping to any particular time at all). I left work at 9pm on Friday for my sins, got back to the messy overrun JC apt to find two of the boys watching Van Helsing (worst.movie.ever.) and Jas and her friends who are here from the UK already hammered, listening to 80's music very loudly and trying to do kickflips on my skateboard in the bedroom.

Left the hovel as soon as I could to head down to the LES to meet up with CC and her friend Tahiti. Time just escaped me all night (I wasn't even drinking) and somehow it was three thirty in the am and we were sat on Devendra's tour bus by Webster hall discussing the finer points of R Kelly's "Trapped in the Closet." Apparently at the VMAs, he performed the entire thing, by himself, playing each part. My cheeks were hurting we were laughing so much about it all. Then conversation faded into listening to some guy talk about toenail fungus and continue to make the same joke after it ceased being funny about five minutes before. It eventually got to a point where I felt like I could barely keep my eyes open so we scooted off the bus, leaving Tahiti and Noah and Devendra to the crazy guy (what the hell was he on to be like that at that time of morning?) and cabbed it back downtown to Broome and Orchard, staggered up to the fifth floor walk up, watched some Britpop DVD then crashed. For a long time.

Headed over to Bushwick on Saturday, stopped by the flea market then went to the McKibben lofts where I had food cooked for me and I got to play with the kitty, Spats (cutest thing in the world). I hung around two cats this weekend – there was a tabby at the LES apt – and my allergies were totally playing up but did that stop me from scooping the cats up and playing with them and having them attach themselves to my lap? No. I just sneezed and wheezed and played with the kitties and thought that allergies to animals should be banned. Later on we went to the Pink Pony for dinner – the mirror in that bathroom is so freaky. I’ve seen it before but it always completely throws me and makes me lose my balance. The service at PP was crummy and it was pissing it down outside [translation: it was raining really hard]. C’s friends came and joined us, and I was transfixed by these four girls who were sat a table down from us and looked like they’d just walked out the early 1990s. Fo’ real. One girl had the worst hat on and I kept thinking of Tori Amos. Another had this too-tight Union Jack tee on with the words “Def Leppard” printed across the chest in rhinestones (and no trace of irony in wearing it, either)… it was just like car-crash fashion. Couldn’t tear my eyes away.

Later we started watching Wet Hot American Summer or Hot Wet American Summer or whatever the hell it’s called. As Madonna was playing Misshapes, there was us: C totally passed out, me sleepy but kind of enjoying this ridiculous movie.

But then one of the people who live in the apt we were staying in who wasn’t meant to be back till next week came back. It was the wee hours of the morning. He’d just got back from tour in LA. And we were in his room. In his bed. Watching his TV. I felt so bad.

Sunday was more of the chilled-ness, reggae time, do what we want – coffee and muffins at Babycakes, walking around the city, up to St Marks, over to Washington Square where we sat in the sun for a while, browsing Shakespeare and Co. and discovering Sarah’s book on the shelf (and after flicking through it, putting it back more prominently on display, ha ha), heading back over on 2nd and finding an old photograph of a solider probably from WW2 that someone had thrown out and nicking it (now pinned up on my wall, didn’t want him to be trashed like that), having tea at the apartment then finding the will to trudge back to JC. As I walked in to my apartment I realized why I try to spend as little time as possible there, I could practically feel my heart being squashed as I walked through to my room.

And now it's Monday morning and having just checked my balance online I've discovered I have all of $10.38 to last me until Friday. It's going to be an interesting week.

a loaded God complex, cock it and pull it

the male species, in general, sucks. and please note i did say "in general". yes, i am generalising.

for some reason this week it seems to be harrassment week. and i'm fucking fed up of it (oh, by the way, in case you hadn't realised, i'm also really overtired and kind of cranky right now).

guys. if you're drunk or crazy or bitter about some girl or not having some girl or about some other guy who got the girl or whatEVER the hell it is, please don't take it out on others.

being held up and being told you'll be raped for ten bucks if necessary isn't fun.

having a crazy drunken old man leering and leching and getting too close and talking filthy at you as you walk from the subway to the PATH train at one in the morning isn't fun.

having someone try and convince you to get in their car when you're on a deserted street with building sites either side is a little edgy, when he gets in his car, drives off and pulls up a way up the street, blocking your way, isn't remotely fun.

having someone holler at you down broadway is kind of funny when you don't realise it's aimed at you, a little less amusing when you realise it is, and a lot less fucking funny when the dude follows you for two blocks.

having the guy that always hangs out on the corner of the street where i work ("Yo, Air Force Ones, Air Force Ones, Gucci bags, white t-shirts...!") be all "Yo, 'sup ma..." every time I walked past - well, actually that was kind of funny.

for the record, at no point was i dressed like a hooker. if i was wearing a skirt it was a reasonable length. i wasn't wearing fuck-me boots (i don't even own any; my boots are flat and slouchy and totally battered. i need new ones). my jeans weren't skin-tight. i was usually wearing a long-sleeved sweater or a jacket. there was nothing that was saying "yes, i want this attention." maybe it's the fact i'm walking by myself? that shouldn't have to be a factor. no one else lives in JC, what'm i meant to do, take a fucking cab everywhere? find an escort? not go out, ever again?

and it probably is just because i am tired and down and a little grumpy that i feel the need to vent off about this or whatever, but i don't know if (nice) guys know how often it happens to girls, and i'm fed up and it's happened too much this week and i'm crap with this kind of stuff anyway, it's really putting me on edge and giving me a stomach ache.

the next time it happens i might just turn around and box that guy in the nose. that'd learn 'im.

champagne and amazons

overheard in the office kitchen earlier on:

"yeah, but - last night? it was great - 'cause - she was riding on a horse, right? and - like, the amazons? they rode horses too? so - like - she was like an amazon?"

me, pissing myself laughing, making a cup of tea. i have no idea what the context of that snippet was.

* * *

1. i kind of feel like i'm not taking the hold-up thing seriously enough, when i compare my reaction/how i feel to how others have reacted when they hear about it. am i just being stupid? although walking back up to 9th St from the LES on Monday night i did suddenly realise i was kind of jumpy when this guy lurched out at me from nowhere.

2. i'm averaging about three to four hours sleep a night right now, and it's killing me. it's just a case of work hard, play hard. i missed the Franz party on monday night at the tribeca grand because i was working till 3 a-bloody-m. that kinda sucked. and i felt terrible at letting my friend down, but i really had to get that stuff done for the magazine.

3. last night me & CC were working late at my office on our own 'zine (abusing the company's internet and potentially their colour photocopier). it got to like 9:30, we were more or less packing up and messing around watching stupid cartoon music videos from paperrad.org when the Boss walks past. i mean like the CEO, the big cheese, the one after whom the company is named. "oh shit," i think and garble out something out working late on projects. he just smiles. i go to the bathroom and when i come back, CC is in the kitchen talking to the boss... who's brought us out spare sandwiches from his meeting. turns out they're having a late meeting but he's fed up of the client, bored with the meeting, and using us as an escape. so he gives us some dinner, then we're trying to find a bottle opener for the nice bottle of red wine he's just offered us but we can't. he offers us scotch instead. no thanks. then he pulls out a bottle of champagne, opens it and makes us hang out in his office so he doesn't have to go back to the meeting. it was hilarious. and champagne - and it was the good stuff - gets me drunk as fuck. good times... we then headed over to barcade to round off the night.

4. i'm totally obsessed with that 'tendency' song by battle. i've had it pretty much on repeat for about a month. i totally wear songs out like that. i have a repetitive playlist that i listen to constantly for a bit. but damn, tendency - awesome track. hunt it down.

5. the photos for the magazine project came out brilliantly. i was blown away. everyone involved totally stepped up and came up with some really excellent shots, and i can't wait to see what the magazine does with them. FYI, the Ed. loved the shots too, which is both awesome and a huge relief... So yeah, at the moment these are some of my all-round favourite people (CC, Lauren, Rob, Alex, Seva - and please include the lovely Mizzz Lewitinn, who sadly couldn't be in the photobooth as she was DJing at the time):