Tuesday, July 26, 2005

after nine hours in the office, two hours working an event and a late dinner at one of my clients, i boarded the 6 train downtown to the broadway-lafayette transfer. just missing the F train, i took a seat and waited. after what seemed like forever, a V finally pulled up and i hopped on. whats walking a few extra blocks anyway? nearing 11:00, i was exiting the station when i felt my phone vibrating in my bag. a number i didnt know. usually, this is grounds for being sent straight to voicemail, but i figured it was a guy that i met at a bar a few nights previously.

its tim.
i know.
i have to tell you something. sit down.
im in the middle of the street, i cant sit down.
just sit down.
what do you want?
mikes dead.

and with that, the whole world briefly disappeared.

RIP Micheal Young.

Thursday, July 21, 2005

i just spent 45 minutes on the phone with ms. nancy at Song by Delta in Cincinnati telling her where she should take her two teenage nieces when the come visit the big ole apple next week.

i should get an award for being the nicest person ever.

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

i went to coney island with the intentions of seeing a bunch of bands that ive never seen before and hopefully hearing some new shit that i liked. after waking up at 1:30 in the afternoon and taking my sweet time getting ready, trying on outfits, trying to find an answer to the eternal question: to apply sunscreen or to not apply sunscreen? i finally got my wits about me, grabbed a sparks from the bodega and took the hour long F train ride to the beach. the train docked and i made my way to the daiquiri stand. i walked to where kim said she would be, expecting to see a buttload of our friends with her. but alas, kim was sitting all by herself. WHY YOU GOTTA EAT OUTTA THE PURSE, YO?!?! she said the friends she was with went to the VIP section and she and i were both like, fuck that. we instead decided to play on the Wonder Wheel and choose one of the ride cars that swings all around.

the Wonder Wheel kinda reminds me of the game Mouse Trap, inna not so Mousey Trappy way. i kept try to rock the cage more and kim yelled at me and grabbed on the back of her seat like that would help anything in the event that i did catapult our car into outer space. we then played a great deal of skeeball and i cashed all of our tickets and got some new, glittery bracelets. well, ok, i gave 10 of my tickets to the little girl that was standing next to me. we then ate some carnie food, i got my daiquiri refill and boarded the train to PS1.

it wasnt until we had been on the train for about 10 minutes before i really realized that there was absolutely no liquor in my daiquiri. but what are you gonna do, ya know? juan atkins was spinning a kickin set when we arrived and the crowd was thick as hell. everyone was throwing around these seat cushions turned frisbees from Target that if you swung them by the handle, you could get some really good distance outta those things. its a shame that it was my first time there cause its a really dope venue and besides, i should be supporting my friend that runs that damn thing.

Sunday, July 17, 2005

the birthday was fantastic, started off with class and ended with ass-flashing. (thank god it wasnt my ass this time!)

it started at midnight when i received a call from my favorite ex to wish me a happy birthday. he and i had celebrated earlier in the week, although he doesnt remember too much of it. my father called to wake me up in the morning with well wishes. as i arrived to work and was waiting for the elevator to take me up, a delivery man exited the elevator, carrying a vase of flowers and trying to bum rush passed the crowd. without even thinking about it, i screamed out, "those are mine!" the man stopped and asked if i was sure. i said yes and gave him my name. "why yes, these are yours." my wonderful daddy had sent me a bouquet that perfectly matched the shirt i was wearing.

the day flew by and i received calls, emails and text messages from my closest friends and family. my! there are so many ways to send a birthday wish these days! my boss gave me a bit of money for birthday, so as soon as the clock struck 6:30, i was outta there. i stopped by the HOY to drop my flowers. kim greeted me with my birthday present, which was a small skillet, something that i had been meaning to buy for ages, but was too lazy to actually do it. she also handed over to me a bottle of Poteen Irish Spirits. a certain someone who lives in a land far, far away arranged for her to get this to me, from him. but apparently, im not allowed to talk about it too much or to post pics of it. so with that, i have blurred the bottle out of this photo:

if you want to see what a bottle of Poteen looks like, youre just gonna have to go to the liquor store and see for yourself!

afterward, i cashed my birthday check and my paycheck and hit the shoe stores, searching for the perfect pair for the night ahead. i was unsuccessful and the hunt took longer than expected, so i had to call erick to tell him to please push our dinner reservation back. he arrived at my house shortly before 10pm and we walked to one of my all-time favorite restaurants in the city, raga. raspberries were the unofficial theme for our dinner. we started off with a ragarita, which is basically a margarita with muddled raspberries served martini style, no ice. we had filet mignon with a red wine curried raspberry reduction sauce (im a sucker for red wine reductions!!) and we ended with the chocolate souffle with raspberry mint sorbet. ritas, reductions, sorbet, oh my!!!

towards the end of the meal, both erick and i started getting calls asking where we were and what was taking so long. thats when the birthday attitude started to kick in and i realized that i was keeping the public waiting, but oh well, cause a girls gotta make her entrance! we finally left the restaurant and made our way to the bar. erick escorted me in and i was greeted with screams and my friends immediately burst out into singing happy birthday. kim bought me a tasty cupcake with blue frosting (which matches my blog perfectly!) and christina handed me a lovely red gerber daisy.

i had a few drinks and danced a little. but i quickly realized that the alcohol now had a three-course meal to get through and that there was just no possible way of getting drunk. i hung out for a bit longer and then decided to take my old ass home.

Thursday, July 14, 2005

Wednesday, July 13, 2005

today i was visiting a magazine publisher in his office where two of his employees had their dogs running about. one a french bulldog, the other some kind of a pitt mutt. i played with them a bit, scratched behind their ears and whatnot, but when i got back to my office and was reflecting on this encounter, it really gave me the urge to make out with someone. anyone.

Friday, July 08, 2005

sometimes i wonder if every blogger reaches that point where they are just like fuck this, fuck this blog. and they stop writing (which usually just means taking a short break); start a new, lesser viewed blog; start making their entries private; or just start making bitchy posts about how their blog means whatever they want it to mean, not what you want it to mean and so if you dont like it then just stop reading. know what i mean? as if doing any of these things negates or erases those thoughts that have already been laid out in the open. like any of those things can change the feelings that youve already caused in someone else. nothing solidifies a thought like having it written out. in front of your eyes, in cold black letters. for everyone to see. once its out there, its out there, and theres no going back. no amount of erasing, privatizing or recreation can change what you just did. of course you can always change what you wrote, but you can never change what you did. and why do people actually have the audacity to think that someone would actually notice, would actually care??? get off your high blogging horse. you have just realized that no matter how much you think that these are just words on a screen, that there are actually real people with real feelings are reading your shit and you have just totally fucked up. and youre trying to reconcile the situation by acting as if it never occurred. and so now you somehow alter your blog to manipulate people into thinking, ohhhhhhhh, what happened to the bloooooog??? boooo!! hooooo!!! how do i know? because ive done it to. bloggers really are the scum of the cyberworld. im just glad that im not as scummy as most of them.

Wednesday, July 06, 2005

after a trip to the bodega and a short jaunt over the williamsburg bridge, we had arrived in brooklyn, en route to the domino sugar factory. kim walked ahead of the group, on her cell phone, getting correct directions to our desired location. the rest of us just kinda dragged foot, finished our sparks and i tried to avoid the setting sun burning our eyes. when we arrived at the factory, we were greeted by a handful of cops standing in the street, engaged in serious discussion. we got in line and the bouncer informed certain members of our party that that could not bring in their bags of beer, but that they could leave the beer at the door and retrieve it when they left. i was still finishing my drink, so the others paid their money and went up to the party while i drank my few last sips. truth is, ive been to enough raves to know that cops hanging around outside just isnt a good sign and fuck if its not murphys law for them to shut the party down right after ive paid.

so i relaxed outside until the cops were outta sight and then made my way up the stairs. intensity in hipster city. it was a living, breathing cliche. but i was already drunk and continued to drink more, so it didnt matter much to me. chairs were sparse on the rooftop, so kristen and just started seat snatching for our whole group.

a few drunken phone calls from katy and even a few more beers later, we decided that we had better make our way to the next rooftop before the sun was in full-on setting mode. as we were getting into the elevator of our final fireworks lookout, we were welcomed by a lovely young lady with a trayful of jello shots. we figured that she was acting as a hostess, handing them out to everyone as they enter, but she quickly told us that no, they werent for everyone, they were for her friends. she still let us buy shots off of her for a dollar a piece.

the elevator doors finally opened to the rooftop and, holy fuck, if every person i knew wasnt there (and norah jones, she was there too). hugs and shrills of joy ensued. as did more drinking. now, i should explain the set up of this building a bit. there was one elevator for what, eight, ten floors? there was easily a 150 people on the roof, thats not even counting the people that actually live in the building. you do the math on just how easily or quickly it was to get to a bathroom when need be. not easy or quick at all, right? so the fireworks were to begin shortly and i knew that it would take me at least a half hour to get down and back, and being that i was drunk and im a bit of showman, combined with the fact that i just never give a fuck added to my wearing a short skirt, i slid off my underwear, picked up a beer cup and handled my business. katy asked, "are you really peeing inna cup right now?" "what does the look on my face tell you?"

then the fireworks came on and i damn near lost my voice. then we walked back over the bridge, which i pissed on and then got a ticket for an open container. but not only did i get a ticket, but i got to keep my alcohol... in the hopes that another cop would stop and ticket me. those bastard fucks.

Tuesday, July 05, 2005

sometimes nature actully makes leaving the house worthwhile.

(4th of july update soon to follow, im just too drunk right now, thanks.)

Monday, July 04, 2005

just because you leave the ghetto does not mean that the ghetto cannot find you.

Sunday, July 03, 2005

when you wake up and see this, you then know why you just woke up with the shakes.

since last we spoke, i have been hanging with platinum status rappers, partying with models and chatting with martha stewart. no joke.

also, james from philly is back in town and we ate at the LES staple restaurant, The Hat, and walked all over the east village, only to come home so i could do some work on his mohawk. we drank it up at DD and then snuck away to the hipster dance party in the west village where we searched and searched for my roommate and finally said fuck it and just started dancing. and danced and danced and danced until the dj made a bad mix, and then we were outta there. we grabbed a late night snack at odessa where eveyone stared at me as i was putting my shoes back on. i asked james why the were staring at us and he said that they were not staring at us, they were staring at your tits.