So I've just knocked out a "sixer" of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale (John & Adam, I know you guys hate it, but stay with me here.....) and I'm bored as snot. The Olympics are leaving many, many, many things to be desired and I have some random yet exciting ideas that I would like to share with you.
First thing's first. I have finally made the transition from my sister's couch to a total stranger's couch!!!!! Hooray!
No, in all reality, I just moved into a new place......well, not just moved....it's been a couple of weeks now. Everything is cool. I have two roommates. Both are girls. That's ok.....i'm used to living with girls.....I have three sisters. I still don't feel like this is home.....it feels more like I'm house-sitting! I wake up in the morning and nobody is here....so i wander around in my boxers, watch TV, eat food that is in the fridge, and kill time until I have to go to work at my job that I loathe. Fun, right?
At least I'm catching up on old episodes of ER!
Something I've also noticed is that "I'm just sayin'..." has become the new phrase to abdictate oneself from all responsibility before stating an observation, comment, or rhetorical question.
For example: "I'm just sayin'.....Your face looks like somebody beat you upside the head with a bag of pennies!"
See? All blame has been removed from the statement.
The phrase can even be used at the end of a sentence:
"Your mom was a whore and now you are a whore..........I'm just sayin' !!"
I've noticed this phrase used by many New Yorker's since moving to the city, and now I'm even picking it up on TV shows and movies. It is weird to feel like you started a phenomenon, but still know that you have very little effect on anyone that has any contact to you.
On the same topic, I've also noticed that "Yeah, yeah, yeah" has replaced "Yada, yada, yada." as the end all, catch all phrase for New Yorkers. This is completely different and totally unrelated to the band, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs.
For example: "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I totally had sex with that girl!"
See how the details of the story no longer matter now that they have been replaced with "yeah, yeah, yeah"?
For your reference, the phrase can also be used to answer questions, state agreement, or even indifference!
So now that I've caught you up on my most recent discoveries and such, I'm off to waste even more time by watching the latest movie I have received from Netflix. Peace!
Tuesday, February 7, 2006
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
No Visible Scars
I'm actually quite relieved.
You know when you do something stupid and regret the outcome later? Of course you do. Sadly, that is the story of my life.
For those of you keeping tabs, I've covered the topic of this blog before.
You can actually catch up here.
Caught up? No? You didn't read the whole thing did you?
ok. short version:
boy meets girl. boy and girl date. boy and girl break up. boy turns into drunk blubbering idiot. boy inadvertantly causes bodily injury to top of head. boy ends up in ER.
now back to my ramblings:
Since that day, I've kept my hair long for fear of showing off my Captain Idiot Badge. But today I could no longer take it. It is really cold here in New York, as I have also covered here before. In order to maintain body heat, a warm wooly cap is required.
Warm wooly caps Long hair Cold Weather = Static electricity.
Static Electricity = bane of my existence.
So I buckled under pressure while I was at walgreens. I bought a hair clipper. And yes......it's all gone....And you can't even see the knick in my noggin!!!! But fear not. I took a before and after picture.
Other than that, I've been up to nothing.
I had this great blog planned about this time at work last week where this dude's ass exploded, but it was pretty vulgar and I didn't feel this was the proper arena.....and mostly because it wasn't as funny as the porno story.
You know when you do something stupid and regret the outcome later? Of course you do. Sadly, that is the story of my life.
For those of you keeping tabs, I've covered the topic of this blog before.
You can actually catch up here.
Caught up? No? You didn't read the whole thing did you?
ok. short version:
boy meets girl. boy and girl date. boy and girl break up. boy turns into drunk blubbering idiot. boy inadvertantly causes bodily injury to top of head. boy ends up in ER.
now back to my ramblings:
Since that day, I've kept my hair long for fear of showing off my Captain Idiot Badge. But today I could no longer take it. It is really cold here in New York, as I have also covered here before. In order to maintain body heat, a warm wooly cap is required.
Warm wooly caps Long hair Cold Weather = Static electricity.
Static Electricity = bane of my existence.
So I buckled under pressure while I was at walgreens. I bought a hair clipper. And yes......it's all gone....And you can't even see the knick in my noggin!!!! But fear not. I took a before and after picture.
Other than that, I've been up to nothing.
I had this great blog planned about this time at work last week where this dude's ass exploded, but it was pretty vulgar and I didn't feel this was the proper arena.....and mostly because it wasn't as funny as the porno story.
Friday, January 6, 2006
Back to the Big City
I kept meaning to post a blog while I was actually back home. I mean, I counted down the days until I was back in my comfortable southern surroundings and I had the time of my life for nearly three weeks. I guess I just never got around to it. So many incredible things happened while I wandered around my hometown with my friends and family. And then it ended. It was over. No out-of-proportioned last hurrah. No fireworks.....well that's not true. At one point I ate at a table of 28 people, but only knew like 7 of them.
I'm now back in the Great White North. Well, it's at least the farthest north I've ever been. And it's no longer white, just cold. Apparently it didn't snow at all while I was gone. And even though snow and ice can be tricky to deal with while walking on it, it at least provides much prettier scenery to take your mind of how bloody awful cold it is.
I spent a lot of time with my friends. I got to see so many people that I wanted to and even some that I didn't expect to see. I only missed out on seeing a few, but it was mostly/hardly my fault, depending on who you ask. Plus some certain folks were no longer in town, either by choice or not. If you're reading this, you probably know who you are and what category you fit into.
I got to meet my 8-month old niece for the first time. Even though that last sentence was totally redundant, Gianna is absolutely darling and quite a handful for my sister to deal with. She'll be a heartbreaker in no time! I also got to spend a ton of time with my five nephews. I bought my nephews some toys for Christmas. Micah (who is 5 years old) got a talking Darth Vader Mask. It was hilarious seeing him trounce around with this helmet that was half his size and hearing this booming voice instead of his tiny little chuckles.
I got to play music with some of my most excellently talented friends who also happen to be some of my best friends in all of the whole world. It was an amazing show and the amazement was doubled by the fact that so many people showed up. At one point, there were at least 150 people in the bar. I've played in front of as many as 1200 people and a bunch of huge crowds before, but for some reason, this measly 150 felt very empowering. Hearing Ray beat the snot out of his drums behind me again gave me goosebumps at several points throughout the evening. Sharing the stage with Brandon and John was more comfortable than it has ever been. And having David there as an opener was great. I wish more people would have been as excited about his set as I was. I feel bad not having David play with me, but I know he would have wanted to get a few practices in and there didn't seem like there was time. I also wish Tom had played on his songs too, but having him come out to see the show was good too.
New Year's Eve was a fantastic event. Small, but with mostly everyone I'd have wanted to be around. A 'fridge full of beer, Fireworks, Football, and Breakfast at 3am were all a boy could have wished for. It has been a small tradition of mine over the last few years to engage in a battle of wills, but with Roman Candles. Sadly, this tradition took a year off, but bottle rockets and the "depth charges" off the side of the canoe in Brandon's lake were more than an acceptable replacement. The alligator sighting and subsequent "paddle-for-your-life" experience was more enjoyable than scary, although those tables might have been turned if said alligator had decided to eat three grown men in a boat as opposed to several tiny ducks with no sense. And to think, I just spent the last seven months here in NYC trying to convince people that not everyone in Louisiana lives near water, owns a boat, or has a gator in their backyard.
So that kind of explains why I'm bummed that I am back in New York, but does nothing to explain why I chose to come back here.
I'll work on trying to figure that out for next time.
Be good.
I'm now back in the Great White North. Well, it's at least the farthest north I've ever been. And it's no longer white, just cold. Apparently it didn't snow at all while I was gone. And even though snow and ice can be tricky to deal with while walking on it, it at least provides much prettier scenery to take your mind of how bloody awful cold it is.
I spent a lot of time with my friends. I got to see so many people that I wanted to and even some that I didn't expect to see. I only missed out on seeing a few, but it was mostly/hardly my fault, depending on who you ask. Plus some certain folks were no longer in town, either by choice or not. If you're reading this, you probably know who you are and what category you fit into.
I got to meet my 8-month old niece for the first time. Even though that last sentence was totally redundant, Gianna is absolutely darling and quite a handful for my sister to deal with. She'll be a heartbreaker in no time! I also got to spend a ton of time with my five nephews. I bought my nephews some toys for Christmas. Micah (who is 5 years old) got a talking Darth Vader Mask. It was hilarious seeing him trounce around with this helmet that was half his size and hearing this booming voice instead of his tiny little chuckles.
I got to play music with some of my most excellently talented friends who also happen to be some of my best friends in all of the whole world. It was an amazing show and the amazement was doubled by the fact that so many people showed up. At one point, there were at least 150 people in the bar. I've played in front of as many as 1200 people and a bunch of huge crowds before, but for some reason, this measly 150 felt very empowering. Hearing Ray beat the snot out of his drums behind me again gave me goosebumps at several points throughout the evening. Sharing the stage with Brandon and John was more comfortable than it has ever been. And having David there as an opener was great. I wish more people would have been as excited about his set as I was. I feel bad not having David play with me, but I know he would have wanted to get a few practices in and there didn't seem like there was time. I also wish Tom had played on his songs too, but having him come out to see the show was good too.
New Year's Eve was a fantastic event. Small, but with mostly everyone I'd have wanted to be around. A 'fridge full of beer, Fireworks, Football, and Breakfast at 3am were all a boy could have wished for. It has been a small tradition of mine over the last few years to engage in a battle of wills, but with Roman Candles. Sadly, this tradition took a year off, but bottle rockets and the "depth charges" off the side of the canoe in Brandon's lake were more than an acceptable replacement. The alligator sighting and subsequent "paddle-for-your-life" experience was more enjoyable than scary, although those tables might have been turned if said alligator had decided to eat three grown men in a boat as opposed to several tiny ducks with no sense. And to think, I just spent the last seven months here in NYC trying to convince people that not everyone in Louisiana lives near water, owns a boat, or has a gator in their backyard.
So that kind of explains why I'm bummed that I am back in New York, but does nothing to explain why I chose to come back here.
I'll work on trying to figure that out for next time.
Be good.
Thursday, December 8, 2005
Dude Looks Like a Lady
So before I begin to bitch about how god-awful cold it is here, I wanted to tell you all about a few other things.
Last week, I got a call from my friend Mark Partlow. Mark is a guy I've known for at least 7 or 8 years now and he is a super cool guy and a great guitar player. He and his wife Tish, who also happens to be super cool, were in New York to see another friend of theirs who dances on "Broadway". So Saturday night I head down to the part of Manhattan know as Chelsea. It's kind of on the west side of the lower third of the island. I end up meeting Mark and Tish at a bar called the Viceroy. It's a cool little place that has almost an old diner vibe to it, that has been transformed into a bar.
So we're having our drinks and enjoying a conversation. I met their friend Trey, who had just finished a performance in "Moving Out" (the musical with Billy Joel songs). Soon enough, the DJ, who had been spinning some old R&B tunes, announces that the "Candace Cane Show" is about to begin. Everyone turns their attention toward a spotlight pointing to the back of the club.
A really terrible song begins to play and a woman dressed in a see through black dress and bra and thong begins to lustfully wander toward the stage while singing along with the awful pre-recorded track.
As I crane my neck to observe the spectacle at the front of the bar, I notice first that this chick has a massive set of fake breasts. I'm not talking Pam Anderson-huge.....but big enough to catch a person's eye for a moment or so. As I begin to glance up I notice a pronounced adam's apple and strongly chiseled jaw bone. I was able to process pretty quickly that I was taking in my first ever transvestite drag-queen show.
It was shortly after I was finished processing this equipment that the following realization hit me (I'll guide you through exactly what popped into my brain):
I'm at a drag show.
I'm at a drag show with Mark Partlow.
Mark Partlow plays guitar.
Mark Partlow played guitar in a band with my old youth leader.
I know Mark Partlow through my old youth leader.
I know Mark Partlow through church.
I'm at a drag show with Mark Partlow.
It was incredibly surreal to be standing next to this guy while watching what ended up to be a pretty funny show! Candace was incredibly funny and had the ability to keep balance in these really tall, skinny heels while doing twirls and kicks. Even though it was about 25 degrees outside at the time, she used her entire surroundings, meaning she would walk outside of the bar and dance in the street and on the sidewalk and interview passers-by.
I ended up having a blast and to capitalize on the surreal nature of the evening, Mark and Tish and I had our picture taken with Candace......which I hope to put up as soon as Mark emails me the photo.
On to less hilarious fodder......
Goddamn it's COLD!!!!!!
I seriously am freezing to death.
It got really really cold, really really quickly!
Last monday it was like 65 degrees. Today it was 34 degrees.
The cool part is that it has snowed a few evenings and is supposed to snow three inches tonight. The uncool part is that the wind is blowing sometimes close to 25 mph, which is BRUTAL!
Two more news snippets before I leave you to ponder your life.
-Mixing is finished for my record! I hope to have it mastered and manufactured incredibly soon!
-I'm coming home in twelve days!
Last week, I got a call from my friend Mark Partlow. Mark is a guy I've known for at least 7 or 8 years now and he is a super cool guy and a great guitar player. He and his wife Tish, who also happens to be super cool, were in New York to see another friend of theirs who dances on "Broadway". So Saturday night I head down to the part of Manhattan know as Chelsea. It's kind of on the west side of the lower third of the island. I end up meeting Mark and Tish at a bar called the Viceroy. It's a cool little place that has almost an old diner vibe to it, that has been transformed into a bar.
So we're having our drinks and enjoying a conversation. I met their friend Trey, who had just finished a performance in "Moving Out" (the musical with Billy Joel songs). Soon enough, the DJ, who had been spinning some old R&B tunes, announces that the "Candace Cane Show" is about to begin. Everyone turns their attention toward a spotlight pointing to the back of the club.
A really terrible song begins to play and a woman dressed in a see through black dress and bra and thong begins to lustfully wander toward the stage while singing along with the awful pre-recorded track.
As I crane my neck to observe the spectacle at the front of the bar, I notice first that this chick has a massive set of fake breasts. I'm not talking Pam Anderson-huge.....but big enough to catch a person's eye for a moment or so. As I begin to glance up I notice a pronounced adam's apple and strongly chiseled jaw bone. I was able to process pretty quickly that I was taking in my first ever transvestite drag-queen show.
It was shortly after I was finished processing this equipment that the following realization hit me (I'll guide you through exactly what popped into my brain):
I'm at a drag show.
I'm at a drag show with Mark Partlow.
Mark Partlow plays guitar.
Mark Partlow played guitar in a band with my old youth leader.
I know Mark Partlow through my old youth leader.
I know Mark Partlow through church.
I'm at a drag show with Mark Partlow.
It was incredibly surreal to be standing next to this guy while watching what ended up to be a pretty funny show! Candace was incredibly funny and had the ability to keep balance in these really tall, skinny heels while doing twirls and kicks. Even though it was about 25 degrees outside at the time, she used her entire surroundings, meaning she would walk outside of the bar and dance in the street and on the sidewalk and interview passers-by.
I ended up having a blast and to capitalize on the surreal nature of the evening, Mark and Tish and I had our picture taken with Candace......which I hope to put up as soon as Mark emails me the photo.
On to less hilarious fodder......
Goddamn it's COLD!!!!!!
I seriously am freezing to death.
It got really really cold, really really quickly!
Last monday it was like 65 degrees. Today it was 34 degrees.
The cool part is that it has snowed a few evenings and is supposed to snow three inches tonight. The uncool part is that the wind is blowing sometimes close to 25 mph, which is BRUTAL!
Two more news snippets before I leave you to ponder your life.
-Mixing is finished for my record! I hope to have it mastered and manufactured incredibly soon!
-I'm coming home in twelve days!
Sunday, November 20, 2005
Jersey House Parties and GoGo Dancers
What a weird weekend. It started early for me, but the last few days have been incredibly odd. It all began on thursday, when my friend Anibal (whom I work with at the museum) had some of his artwork on display at a benefit show for a girl who is my age, but is stricken with ovarion cancer.
So I end up at this art benefit, which is being held in this very tiny room above a bar. The place is packed with artists, hipsters, hip-hoppers, punks, freaks.........and me. After a $10 donation at the door, which I was more than happy to give since the money went directly to the girl with cancer, they give you two green tickets which I happily exchanged for two Red Stripe beers. Since the place was so packed, I decided to get both beers at one time and just walk around "double fisted".
I meet up with Anibal and his buddy Ron (who looks exactly like Bernie Williams) and we hang out for a while at the art opening. Also hanging out were Al's brother Ed, this guy Ken and Ron's neighbor, Mel. These are all characters that come into play later in the story and the weekend in general. After about half an hour or so, the plan changes because somebody who knew somebody was having a party that somehow involves models and free drinks, and so that means we're off to a club!
I swear we must have killed another twenty minutes standing outside waiting for the whole crew to assemble and my only problem with this was that it was 35 degrees outside. So as we're standing outside, and I'm personally freezing my nuts off, more details come to light about where we're headed. Basically, everyone but me knows this one guy who works with a modeling agency and the agency was hosting a party for their models at a club called "GoGo". Now, where I'm from gogo is simply a type of dancing where a scantily clad young lady is essentially trapped in a cage and forced to dance. According to Ed, in New York "gogo" is just another form of strip joint. As we finally arrive, we are all on the guest list (nice) and are escorted into the area that the party was just getting started.
BEAUTIFUL GIRLS TO MY LEFT!
BEAUTIFUL GIRLS TO MY RIGHT!
I'm astounded by how many gorgeous girls there are at this party. Wandering up to the bar, we discover that the free drinks consist of Budweiser bottles and house vodka drinks. I'm not a fan of either variety but I am not one to discriminate when the word 'free' is involved. I order a Bud and the bartender apparently thought i asked for two, so again I'm double-fisted. Things could be worse.
As it turns out, "GoGo" was not in fact a strip club, but a dance club with the gogo dancers that I was expecting. Everyone was fairly disappointed. The models made up for it. And then there was the VIP hostess. Holy crap. This girl was quite hot and she made every guy in the room stare at her. She was wearing some tiny little tank top that barely covered the special bits of her ENORMOUS fake breasts. It was like I was in seventh grade squinting at scrambled porn, I just couldn't keep my eyes off of them. And she knew it too, which made things worse, because if I happened to be looking in her direction she knew I was gonna glance down!
As the evening progresses, the free drinks begin to catch up with everyone. Ron and Mel are standing in front of one of the dancer's platforms taking pictures in an attempt to get a dancer in the background. Ed and Ken are trying very hard to get up on the VIP platform to dance with these two Madison Ave. princesses. Al and I are nursing beers from each hand, just scoping the crowd. It is during this moment that Al leans over and points out a person in the room that was famous. It was Wonder Mike, of the legendary hip-hop group "The Sugarhill Gang", known for their song "Rapper's Delight". I'm not saying I wasn't impressed by seeing the guy, but I was more impressed (as was the rest of the room) when Sugarhill Gang took the stage and performed. It apparently was a performance that wasn't planned. The whole place went nuts!
The "show" was over and we're ready to split, but quickly notice that Ken has disappeared. As we step outside, Al calls Ken and asks him where he went. Turns out, Ken felt like he was getting sick, so he bolted out of the club and proceeded to wander up 6th ave from 19th street to 23rd street, ralphing on every block along the way. I find this funny, but its even funnier to me, because I'm glad it wasn't me.
That was a long story for one night, but it is not where my weekend stopped.Friday night, Mel was having a party at his house in Jersey City, NJ. This was my first venture into the odd and twisted land that is the Garden State.
I ride over with Anibal and Ed and as we leave the city through the Holland Tunnel and re-emerge in another state, it was strangely similar to entering an alternate universe. Life seemed to slow down to a snail's pace. Traffic was non-existent. People seemed happier and in less of a rush. All of these things are pretty odd considering I haven't left the city in 7 months.
We get to the house at around 10pm, and it was actually very familiar. I miss the house parties that used to be such a staple of life for me, living in the south. But that is where the similarities ended. Mel greets us and is busy DJ-ing (not well, I might add). There is a ton of beer and alcohol and people are pretty well into it by the time we arrive. The highlight of this party of the story is really the people that were in attendance, so I'll skip ahead to my two favorite characters.
First, after several beers, I ended up in a coversation about music with a nomadic Australian kid who had been all over the world, just because he didn't feel like having a day job. We discussed the influence of Pink Floyd and other bands on today's indie music. It was after a long talk that we got into the "favorite bands" category. He spouted off some band I had never heard of and I rattled off "The Beatles". It was at this point that I lost the majority of interest in the conversation. The guy spent the next ten minutes raising his voice about how "overrated the Beatles are". I basically tuned out and began to notice my second favorite character of the night.
Near a door frame, a girl who had arrived much later than my friends and I but was somehow WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY more drunk! I'm pretty sure that the door frame was the only reason she was standing up. Soon enough, my suspicion was proven correct. Let me set this up for you. She was not a small girl. I'd venture to say 5'8", 260 lbs. VERY DRUNK. And then it happened. The girl fell over like a toppled building. She hit the floor so hard it hurt the tile.......no literally, two of the tiles cracked! She was helped to her feet and put in a chair at the kitchen table. Two young ladies proceeded to fix her a glass of water and check to see if she was ok. The next time I turned around, the girl was still sitting in the chair, but the glass of water that she was supposed to be sipping had been replaced by a fresh can of budweiser. Not a bright idea. She then stood up and began dancing near the chair she was sitting in, but sadly had not suddenly regained her balance and she fell over again, this time taking the flimsy table and chair with her. People again rushed to her aid and when asked "Are you ok?" the girl responds "I spilled my beer, get me another one!" I wish I could say that was the end of it, but the girl seriously tumbled like four more times, each subsequent time making terrible attempts to bump and grind with some poor soul that couldn't avoid her fast enough.
Last night was pretty weird too, but I want to save a few stories for when I get home, or else you guys will all think I'm boring and uninteresting. Let's just say I did get to watch the football game (GEAUX TIGERS!!), then later had my Tarot cards read, and ended up taking a cab home at like 6am. Yeah........I'm gonna go take a nap!
So I end up at this art benefit, which is being held in this very tiny room above a bar. The place is packed with artists, hipsters, hip-hoppers, punks, freaks.........and me. After a $10 donation at the door, which I was more than happy to give since the money went directly to the girl with cancer, they give you two green tickets which I happily exchanged for two Red Stripe beers. Since the place was so packed, I decided to get both beers at one time and just walk around "double fisted".
I meet up with Anibal and his buddy Ron (who looks exactly like Bernie Williams) and we hang out for a while at the art opening. Also hanging out were Al's brother Ed, this guy Ken and Ron's neighbor, Mel. These are all characters that come into play later in the story and the weekend in general. After about half an hour or so, the plan changes because somebody who knew somebody was having a party that somehow involves models and free drinks, and so that means we're off to a club!
I swear we must have killed another twenty minutes standing outside waiting for the whole crew to assemble and my only problem with this was that it was 35 degrees outside. So as we're standing outside, and I'm personally freezing my nuts off, more details come to light about where we're headed. Basically, everyone but me knows this one guy who works with a modeling agency and the agency was hosting a party for their models at a club called "GoGo". Now, where I'm from gogo is simply a type of dancing where a scantily clad young lady is essentially trapped in a cage and forced to dance. According to Ed, in New York "gogo" is just another form of strip joint. As we finally arrive, we are all on the guest list (nice) and are escorted into the area that the party was just getting started.
BEAUTIFUL GIRLS TO MY LEFT!
BEAUTIFUL GIRLS TO MY RIGHT!
I'm astounded by how many gorgeous girls there are at this party. Wandering up to the bar, we discover that the free drinks consist of Budweiser bottles and house vodka drinks. I'm not a fan of either variety but I am not one to discriminate when the word 'free' is involved. I order a Bud and the bartender apparently thought i asked for two, so again I'm double-fisted. Things could be worse.
As it turns out, "GoGo" was not in fact a strip club, but a dance club with the gogo dancers that I was expecting. Everyone was fairly disappointed. The models made up for it. And then there was the VIP hostess. Holy crap. This girl was quite hot and she made every guy in the room stare at her. She was wearing some tiny little tank top that barely covered the special bits of her ENORMOUS fake breasts. It was like I was in seventh grade squinting at scrambled porn, I just couldn't keep my eyes off of them. And she knew it too, which made things worse, because if I happened to be looking in her direction she knew I was gonna glance down!
As the evening progresses, the free drinks begin to catch up with everyone. Ron and Mel are standing in front of one of the dancer's platforms taking pictures in an attempt to get a dancer in the background. Ed and Ken are trying very hard to get up on the VIP platform to dance with these two Madison Ave. princesses. Al and I are nursing beers from each hand, just scoping the crowd. It is during this moment that Al leans over and points out a person in the room that was famous. It was Wonder Mike, of the legendary hip-hop group "The Sugarhill Gang", known for their song "Rapper's Delight". I'm not saying I wasn't impressed by seeing the guy, but I was more impressed (as was the rest of the room) when Sugarhill Gang took the stage and performed. It apparently was a performance that wasn't planned. The whole place went nuts!
The "show" was over and we're ready to split, but quickly notice that Ken has disappeared. As we step outside, Al calls Ken and asks him where he went. Turns out, Ken felt like he was getting sick, so he bolted out of the club and proceeded to wander up 6th ave from 19th street to 23rd street, ralphing on every block along the way. I find this funny, but its even funnier to me, because I'm glad it wasn't me.
That was a long story for one night, but it is not where my weekend stopped.Friday night, Mel was having a party at his house in Jersey City, NJ. This was my first venture into the odd and twisted land that is the Garden State.
I ride over with Anibal and Ed and as we leave the city through the Holland Tunnel and re-emerge in another state, it was strangely similar to entering an alternate universe. Life seemed to slow down to a snail's pace. Traffic was non-existent. People seemed happier and in less of a rush. All of these things are pretty odd considering I haven't left the city in 7 months.
We get to the house at around 10pm, and it was actually very familiar. I miss the house parties that used to be such a staple of life for me, living in the south. But that is where the similarities ended. Mel greets us and is busy DJ-ing (not well, I might add). There is a ton of beer and alcohol and people are pretty well into it by the time we arrive. The highlight of this party of the story is really the people that were in attendance, so I'll skip ahead to my two favorite characters.
First, after several beers, I ended up in a coversation about music with a nomadic Australian kid who had been all over the world, just because he didn't feel like having a day job. We discussed the influence of Pink Floyd and other bands on today's indie music. It was after a long talk that we got into the "favorite bands" category. He spouted off some band I had never heard of and I rattled off "The Beatles". It was at this point that I lost the majority of interest in the conversation. The guy spent the next ten minutes raising his voice about how "overrated the Beatles are". I basically tuned out and began to notice my second favorite character of the night.
Near a door frame, a girl who had arrived much later than my friends and I but was somehow WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY more drunk! I'm pretty sure that the door frame was the only reason she was standing up. Soon enough, my suspicion was proven correct. Let me set this up for you. She was not a small girl. I'd venture to say 5'8", 260 lbs. VERY DRUNK. And then it happened. The girl fell over like a toppled building. She hit the floor so hard it hurt the tile.......no literally, two of the tiles cracked! She was helped to her feet and put in a chair at the kitchen table. Two young ladies proceeded to fix her a glass of water and check to see if she was ok. The next time I turned around, the girl was still sitting in the chair, but the glass of water that she was supposed to be sipping had been replaced by a fresh can of budweiser. Not a bright idea. She then stood up and began dancing near the chair she was sitting in, but sadly had not suddenly regained her balance and she fell over again, this time taking the flimsy table and chair with her. People again rushed to her aid and when asked "Are you ok?" the girl responds "I spilled my beer, get me another one!" I wish I could say that was the end of it, but the girl seriously tumbled like four more times, each subsequent time making terrible attempts to bump and grind with some poor soul that couldn't avoid her fast enough.
Last night was pretty weird too, but I want to save a few stories for when I get home, or else you guys will all think I'm boring and uninteresting. Let's just say I did get to watch the football game (GEAUX TIGERS!!), then later had my Tarot cards read, and ended up taking a cab home at like 6am. Yeah........I'm gonna go take a nap!
Monday, November 7, 2005
I am NOT a Hockey Fan!
What I didn't realize (being a southerner), is that even though baseball is over, football is in full swing, and basketball is about to start, northerners still manage to focus all of their attention on hockey.
What the f***?!?!?!
I attended my first NHL game tonight. The New York Rangers lost to the Pittsburgh Penguins 3-2. I'm not saying it wasn't exciting, I'm just saying that somebody should've thrown a punch or two. The pansy refs wouldn't even let guys get close enough to try and fight.
Remember when you were a kid, and the coolest thing around was playing "Blades of Steel" on your Nintendo gaming console? Boy, I do.
Fighting was the coolest thing you could manage to do in that game. I used to spend hours skating around that computer animated rink just waiting for someone to hit me. Hell, if they'd even look at me wrong, I was gonna throw down!
Which brings me to my next point.
I'm buying an iPod.
I know, I'm a total sellout.......I'm just tired of being the ONLY person in this city that doesn't have one. Seriously, I have a long commute to the museum every morning, and goshdagnabbit, I wanna listen to the Backstreet......er, I mean.....um......Metallica!
So....stay tuned for my triumphant return to the deep south. Be afraid, be very afraid.
What the f***?!?!?!
I attended my first NHL game tonight. The New York Rangers lost to the Pittsburgh Penguins 3-2. I'm not saying it wasn't exciting, I'm just saying that somebody should've thrown a punch or two. The pansy refs wouldn't even let guys get close enough to try and fight.
Remember when you were a kid, and the coolest thing around was playing "Blades of Steel" on your Nintendo gaming console? Boy, I do.
Fighting was the coolest thing you could manage to do in that game. I used to spend hours skating around that computer animated rink just waiting for someone to hit me. Hell, if they'd even look at me wrong, I was gonna throw down!
Which brings me to my next point.
I'm buying an iPod.
I know, I'm a total sellout.......I'm just tired of being the ONLY person in this city that doesn't have one. Seriously, I have a long commute to the museum every morning, and goshdagnabbit, I wanna listen to the Backstreet......er, I mean.....um......Metallica!
So....stay tuned for my triumphant return to the deep south. Be afraid, be very afraid.
Saturday, October 29, 2005
Random Acts of New York-ism
So I've had some really random weeks for the past few weeks. These stories aren't necessarily connected or chronological.......but I thought they were funny.....so here you go.
The other night as I was leaving work, I swear I saw the asian version of Kid 'n Play. There were these two kids and one had his hair stacked up about a foot high on top of his head and a really bald undercut while his buddy had these really tiny dreadlocks. They both had these HUGE puffy coats on and really baggy jeans and were trying so very hard to convince the doorguy at some club that they were "hip-hoppers" (their words, not mine). I laughed very hard..... because I (and most of my friends) had an undercut in middle school.
During the day I work at the Isamu Noguchi Museum as an art handler. Noguchi (1904-1988) was a stone sculptor and designer. You can learn more about him and see pictures of the heavy rocks that I move at Noguchi.org. In the office, my buddy Al and I found a picture of Noguchi and Don Johnson. Yes, Don Johnson from Miami Vice. And yes he's wearing a white blazer with a t-shirt. Well, very covertly my buddy Al scanned the picture and made t-shirts from the image.........I laughed my ass off.
..
So my first gig in New York is this monday night. I'm not really all that nervous, i just don't wanna screw up. So wish me luck......
Rock on!
The other night as I was leaving work, I swear I saw the asian version of Kid 'n Play. There were these two kids and one had his hair stacked up about a foot high on top of his head and a really bald undercut while his buddy had these really tiny dreadlocks. They both had these HUGE puffy coats on and really baggy jeans and were trying so very hard to convince the doorguy at some club that they were "hip-hoppers" (their words, not mine). I laughed very hard..... because I (and most of my friends) had an undercut in middle school.
During the day I work at the Isamu Noguchi Museum as an art handler. Noguchi (1904-1988) was a stone sculptor and designer. You can learn more about him and see pictures of the heavy rocks that I move at Noguchi.org. In the office, my buddy Al and I found a picture of Noguchi and Don Johnson. Yes, Don Johnson from Miami Vice. And yes he's wearing a white blazer with a t-shirt. Well, very covertly my buddy Al scanned the picture and made t-shirts from the image.........I laughed my ass off.
..
So my first gig in New York is this monday night. I'm not really all that nervous, i just don't wanna screw up. So wish me luck......
Rock on!
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
The Pain of Getting Older
As my close friends know, i turned 24 recently.....and boy, it hurt!
The week leading up to my day of birth was great. The guys from Lucid Soule came in town and it was so much fun to have my friends near me. I can honestly say that I had more fun in those four days than I have in the now four months since I arrived. The only possible way that the weekend could have been better is if some asshole hadn't slashed the trailer tires on the boy's transportation. Luckily there was a tire shop right down the block from the incident..........my theory of course being that the employees of said tire shop are to blame for the holes and they performed the hanus act in order to bleed business out of poor, traveling musicians. Bastards.
Anyway it was a great time nonetheless, no matter what Adam says. I already miss those guys.
So after the fellas took off on sunday morning in the cold rain, i trekked off to work. I had decided that I would do something I hadn't done in a while and actually celebrate my birthday. Sadly, I got off of work later than expected and had to turn 24 at 12:01am riding the subway with Jose Rodriguez who kept begging me for money even though I had turned him down four times. I guess that's what happens when you are the only person on the train with the bums.
I arrived at the bar that I've begun spending my time and hard-earned money in and was greeted by my buddy Dan. I mentioned to Dan that it was my birthday and he proceeded to basically announce it to the entire bar. While I and my wallet are very thankful for such treatment, as I didn't pay for anything the entire night, my liver now hates every single one of those people that placed shots in front of me.
I got home sometime around 5am and in some manner negociated 4 flights of stairs. I woke up on the living room floor having apparently made a series of dinosaur calls. My sister (who i didn't know was home) came from some dark corner of the apartment with paper towels and plastic bags.
I awoke at 4 o'clock on monday afternoon, with half of my clothes on, after having spent the night on the floor. My mouth was so dry I could barely close it. I have a bruise on my hip from sleeping on my side and at some point in the evening's activities, I must have fallen down, 'cause i have a very large bruise on my back. Sadly, my state of being prevented me from enjoying another evening on the town and I have now vowed a personal prohibition.....as temporary as that can be. My goal is at least a week.
So here's to hoping that when I turn twenty-five, I'll at least be smart enough to steer clear of someone who offers to buy me a shot. I'm gonna run now.....no real plans tonight, but man i need a beer.
The week leading up to my day of birth was great. The guys from Lucid Soule came in town and it was so much fun to have my friends near me. I can honestly say that I had more fun in those four days than I have in the now four months since I arrived. The only possible way that the weekend could have been better is if some asshole hadn't slashed the trailer tires on the boy's transportation. Luckily there was a tire shop right down the block from the incident..........my theory of course being that the employees of said tire shop are to blame for the holes and they performed the hanus act in order to bleed business out of poor, traveling musicians. Bastards.
Anyway it was a great time nonetheless, no matter what Adam says. I already miss those guys.
So after the fellas took off on sunday morning in the cold rain, i trekked off to work. I had decided that I would do something I hadn't done in a while and actually celebrate my birthday. Sadly, I got off of work later than expected and had to turn 24 at 12:01am riding the subway with Jose Rodriguez who kept begging me for money even though I had turned him down four times. I guess that's what happens when you are the only person on the train with the bums.
I arrived at the bar that I've begun spending my time and hard-earned money in and was greeted by my buddy Dan. I mentioned to Dan that it was my birthday and he proceeded to basically announce it to the entire bar. While I and my wallet are very thankful for such treatment, as I didn't pay for anything the entire night, my liver now hates every single one of those people that placed shots in front of me.
I got home sometime around 5am and in some manner negociated 4 flights of stairs. I woke up on the living room floor having apparently made a series of dinosaur calls. My sister (who i didn't know was home) came from some dark corner of the apartment with paper towels and plastic bags.
I awoke at 4 o'clock on monday afternoon, with half of my clothes on, after having spent the night on the floor. My mouth was so dry I could barely close it. I have a bruise on my hip from sleeping on my side and at some point in the evening's activities, I must have fallen down, 'cause i have a very large bruise on my back. Sadly, my state of being prevented me from enjoying another evening on the town and I have now vowed a personal prohibition.....as temporary as that can be. My goal is at least a week.
So here's to hoping that when I turn twenty-five, I'll at least be smart enough to steer clear of someone who offers to buy me a shot. I'm gonna run now.....no real plans tonight, but man i need a beer.
Saturday, September 10, 2005
Drunk and Stupid (the abridged version of my life)
I can officially say that I'm starting to enjoy the city. It's taken me three hard months, and I'm still incredibly homesick, but the city has its bright points. The weather is nicer. Public transportation (when it's running on schedule) is great. This week is "Fashion Week" which simply translates that there are thousands of beautiful models all over the city. They walk in packs and puddles of drool gather at the feet of every male that happens to witness such a spectacle.
But that (surprisingly) is not the best part of the city.
Do you want to know what is?
BUYBACKS!!!!!!!
Let me explain......or at least fail miserably in an attempt.
When I first arrived in the city, I had a hard time getting adjusted to higher prices. Everything costs more here, except a bottle of water is still roughly a dollar. Me, being in the habit of drinking heavily (thanks Northgate!!), I was appalled at the price of beer! A six pack of good beer can cost you anywhere from $9 to $13 dollars. A pint of beer at your local watering hole can easily be $7 or more. Try drinking a Guinness for less than $8.
Or so I thought.
I've recently discovered that there are much more "wallet-friendly" establishments here in the city, once you know where to look. Happy Hour is also something I've never looked forward to until now. I now know places where I can drink Guinness for the amazing price of $3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Try getting that back home (the cheapest I can remember is Monday night at the Chimes is something like $4.25?)
The fun comes in when the buybacks start. You see, after you've paid for and systematically guzzled your first few drinks, a bartender will usually offer to buy you the next round. In order to keep the buybacks coming, the trick is to continue to tip the barkeep even though you didn't pay for the drink. It's essentially like buying beer for a dollar.
Buybacks have gotten me in a world of trouble. You see......I have a problem.
No, not the type of problem that requires an intervention (unless you just really want to come visit), but a problem nonetheless. I don't wake up craving beer (mmmmm......beer), but if someone offers me a drink and does not ask for money in return for said drink, I cannot say no. Thus, my problem.
Being that I'm a creature of habit, I was in Queens the other night, enjoying a nice after-work beer with my co-workers. We arrived shortly after 5pm, right in the midst of Happy Hour, and began drinking our $3 draught beers. Sometime close to 12:30am, having accidentally skipped dinner, I realized that I should probably make some attempt at stumbling home. I weebled and wobbled all the way to the train, and that is as far as my story goes.........simply because I cannont remember anything else. Thankfully I ended up safe in my slightly uncomfortable futon/bed with half of my clothes on, including one shoe and my hat, but not my pants.......
Don't feel bad for me or my liver. I am actually in the midst of a self-imposed dry period. Mostly because after my adventure and subsequent hangover, I can't look at a beer without wanting to blow chunks. The hangover was not quite as bad as when Corey and I floated the Abita Keg @ Brian's Party.......but it did not make work easy at all today.
So enough about alcohol and hurl. I'm off to bed, so that I can wake up and have some other incredibly random events that never seemed to happen when I lived back home.
But that (surprisingly) is not the best part of the city.
Do you want to know what is?
BUYBACKS!!!!!!!
Let me explain......or at least fail miserably in an attempt.
When I first arrived in the city, I had a hard time getting adjusted to higher prices. Everything costs more here, except a bottle of water is still roughly a dollar. Me, being in the habit of drinking heavily (thanks Northgate!!), I was appalled at the price of beer! A six pack of good beer can cost you anywhere from $9 to $13 dollars. A pint of beer at your local watering hole can easily be $7 or more. Try drinking a Guinness for less than $8.
Or so I thought.
I've recently discovered that there are much more "wallet-friendly" establishments here in the city, once you know where to look. Happy Hour is also something I've never looked forward to until now. I now know places where I can drink Guinness for the amazing price of $3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Try getting that back home (the cheapest I can remember is Monday night at the Chimes is something like $4.25?)
The fun comes in when the buybacks start. You see, after you've paid for and systematically guzzled your first few drinks, a bartender will usually offer to buy you the next round. In order to keep the buybacks coming, the trick is to continue to tip the barkeep even though you didn't pay for the drink. It's essentially like buying beer for a dollar.
Buybacks have gotten me in a world of trouble. You see......I have a problem.
No, not the type of problem that requires an intervention (unless you just really want to come visit), but a problem nonetheless. I don't wake up craving beer (mmmmm......beer), but if someone offers me a drink and does not ask for money in return for said drink, I cannot say no. Thus, my problem.
Being that I'm a creature of habit, I was in Queens the other night, enjoying a nice after-work beer with my co-workers. We arrived shortly after 5pm, right in the midst of Happy Hour, and began drinking our $3 draught beers. Sometime close to 12:30am, having accidentally skipped dinner, I realized that I should probably make some attempt at stumbling home. I weebled and wobbled all the way to the train, and that is as far as my story goes.........simply because I cannont remember anything else. Thankfully I ended up safe in my slightly uncomfortable futon/bed with half of my clothes on, including one shoe and my hat, but not my pants.......
Don't feel bad for me or my liver. I am actually in the midst of a self-imposed dry period. Mostly because after my adventure and subsequent hangover, I can't look at a beer without wanting to blow chunks. The hangover was not quite as bad as when Corey and I floated the Abita Keg @ Brian's Party.......but it did not make work easy at all today.
So enough about alcohol and hurl. I'm off to bed, so that I can wake up and have some other incredibly random events that never seemed to happen when I lived back home.
Wednesday, September 7, 2005
Three Month Heartbreak
can't believe that it's been three months here already.
I also can't believe how heartbroken I am about my hometown.
I guess that some people might not know, but I was born in New Orleans. Even though I didn't grow up there, I still have this strong yet strange connection to the city. I have spent the last week fighting back tears and holding back screams. It hurts so bad that so many people have passed away and even more are forced to leave their homes after a horrible act of nature. It bugs me that everyone knew that the threat of New Orleans sinking was real, but nothing has ever been done about it.
I don't want this to turn into a political rant so I'll state my piece and be done. The Bush administration's response to this tragedy is appalling!
I feel so helpless this far away from home. I can't do anything to help from 3000 miles away. I've given to the American Red Cross and I encourage you all to do the same.
I'm proud of my friends who are back home for being strong and helping in the ways they have. You all are inspirations and I wish desperately that I could be among you. Sadly, I know that if I come home, I won't return to the big apple. Homesickness is truly a sickness indeed.
On another note, I hit the cover off of a baseball yesterday. Granted, it was a cheap baseball that the seams were already split on, but nonetheless, I crushed it.
I hope those who read this are ok and your families are ok. Let me know if there is anything I can do to help you, even though I'm so far from my home. Peace.
I also can't believe how heartbroken I am about my hometown.
I guess that some people might not know, but I was born in New Orleans. Even though I didn't grow up there, I still have this strong yet strange connection to the city. I have spent the last week fighting back tears and holding back screams. It hurts so bad that so many people have passed away and even more are forced to leave their homes after a horrible act of nature. It bugs me that everyone knew that the threat of New Orleans sinking was real, but nothing has ever been done about it.
I don't want this to turn into a political rant so I'll state my piece and be done. The Bush administration's response to this tragedy is appalling!
I feel so helpless this far away from home. I can't do anything to help from 3000 miles away. I've given to the American Red Cross and I encourage you all to do the same.
I'm proud of my friends who are back home for being strong and helping in the ways they have. You all are inspirations and I wish desperately that I could be among you. Sadly, I know that if I come home, I won't return to the big apple. Homesickness is truly a sickness indeed.
On another note, I hit the cover off of a baseball yesterday. Granted, it was a cheap baseball that the seams were already split on, but nonetheless, I crushed it.
I hope those who read this are ok and your families are ok. Let me know if there is anything I can do to help you, even though I'm so far from my home. Peace.
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