Hint hint, nudge, nudge

For 4 days now, I have been avoiding a message on Facebook.

I do this thing where I put off reading things because I don't want to deal with it. Like emails, or pieces of scary looking mail or, while in school, grades on exams.

A couple of weeks ago, someone poked me on Facebook. (In case you are unfamiliar with Facebook, a poke is a little virtual nudge. Just a way of saying hi instead of writing an email. I tend to get them from guys I don't know. Which is fine, whatever.) I pretty much ignored his poke because stuff that like... Well to take something from offline flirting to real life dating, I just don't have that much faith that it will turn out alright. So there I am, a week and half into ignoring this guy, after fully checking out his profile of course, and in the city to celebrate Jason M's birthday at 212 on the Upper East Side. After dinner, I hop in my car, headed for home, am about to turn onto Lex when on this deserted street, whom should I see walk past my car, but THAT guy. At least, I think it is that guy. Like I am at 99% on the certainty level. And I am in shock. What are the odds? 10 million people in this city and at 11:30pm on a Thursday night, this guy walks past my car. I really wanted to call out to him but the light turned and I chickened out. I immediately call Sea to convey the news and decide to write him a Facebook message asking if it was him.

It took him a while to get back to me but he finally did and here I sit, unread message staring back at me.

Brighton Beach Memoirs

It's Memorial Day weekend and despite the fact that I work for myself, I still feel happy to have a three day weekend. That means Monday, I can be left in peace to get some work done while everyone else is still away from their desks. That sounds lame.

So yesterday I took a lovely drive out to Brighton Beach to meet Happy, Jill, Ryan and friends for a little sun and Russian food. I've never been to Brighton Beach and it really is like walking through the streets of Russia. Everyone is speaking Russian. Little kids, street teens, gaggles of house moms. Even people who don't look Russian are speaking Russian. It's pretty cool.

The beach wasn't as dirty as I expected and we sat out there talking and watching the waves, trying to come up with the name of the island off the coast, until we all got too hungry for borscht and packed it in. Happy found out the name of a cheap Russian restaurant from the Brighton Beach native her cousin married, away from the tourist spots on the boardwalk, where we ate vernicki and drank Russian beer.

We then all departed ways and Happy and I made our way to the Lower East Side to see The Lisps at Cake Shop with Matt. We hit happy hour and the sugar free bakery on Broome first, so we arrived quite happy. The Lisps were of course amazing. I love them all so much. I want to dive into the song 'Brackish Water.' I wish I knew all the words.

After chatting about Jewlumbians with Eric of The Lisps, turning away a sketchy man with a box on his head selling homemade books about 9/11 and saying goodbye to Matt, Happy and I ended up in the Upper East Side apartment of Ryan, where we met Jill and Kramer. They all played Guitar Hero while I watched. I promised them that I was too bad to play but they wouldn't take no for an answer and made me get up and try. After three goes at a Killers song, they believed me, I can't play Guitar Hero. I'll be a good sport and play a hell of a lot of things I am bad at (see tennis, Egyptian Ratscrew, softball) but Guitar Hero makes me feel like I ride the short bus- which is not so fun.

Happy came home with me since her cousin in Syosset was having a bbq the next day, which I was invited to. We were home by 12:45am and watching How I Met Your Mother in bed before I fell completely, exhaustedly, asleep.

'Life is good wild and sweet'

Last night had you been at Trash in the East Village, you would have seen your Music Sluts and friends on stage dancing all night long. All night long.

I headed into the city around 8pm to meet Happy at Hanger Bar at 9:30pm for a drink. Of course I was there early so I took the opportunity to sit quietly in my car and write. I've become very prolific lately and for once, it won't all make here onto the blog. Maybe one day when the names no longer matter.

Hanger Bar is pretty awesome. Really chill, not too expensive, you can usually get a seat at the bar. The bathrooms aren't the cleanliest but you get over it.

At 10:30 pm, we met Matt, Debbie and Debbie's friends from work, Erin and Becky in front of Trash. I've never been to Trash but I've driven past it plenty of times wondering what the hell that club with all the people out front and no name on the outside was. Apparently that is the place friend DJ Jess is always sending me invites to go to. I'm glad I finally went, it's fun as shit. There aren't too many places in New York where one can go and dance and not feel some anonymous guy grinding on your leg or that you are vastly under dressed. Last night was the celebration of Morrissey's birthday, dear Mathew's favourite and hence our reason for going. Random Morrissey songs played throughout the night and his concert footage was projected onto the wall.

At 2am, I signaled it was quitting time. I wanted us to leave on a high (and while I could still walk).

Evening stand-outs:

• Open vodka bar (one drink per customer, booo)
• Jumping up and down to James, 'Laid,' my favourite song to hear out
• Scary strip tease with naked girl smashing a cake and Deb's subsequent look of horror
• DJ Jess looking like a sexy mofo and playing great songs
• Crazy, large, Asian dude trying to dance with us

They've Lost the Plot

Last night I met Akshay, Jason M and their friends out in Union Square to see the new Indiana Jones movie. It was not very good. 3 Reasons:

1. Dialog - George Lucas wrote it. While I have respect for the man who brought us Star Wars, I feel that someone should have stopped him from writing such static dialog for this film after he tarnished the Star Wars trilogy with the prequels. Was Steven Spielberg really unable to prevent that?
   
2. Aliens - I understand fully that in the 50's people had an alien fascination, but aliens have no bearing on Indiana Jones. They do not belong in the same world. And since aliens have no shared history with the audience such as, say, the Holy Grail does, it fails to impact and inspire awe in the same manner. Instead, it successfully turns Indiana Jones into a sci-fi film where before, it was a history (albeit fantastical), adventure flick. And if for some reason you do not know that this movie has something to do with aliens... I cannot help you son.
3. Plot - Besides the irritating alien theme, the storyline seemed to be in fast forward. It was as if the filmmakers were telling us the summary and not the story. Characters weren't built, relationships glanced over and while it was great seeing Indy again, the audience was unable to reconnect to him. And no, I have no ill will towards Shia Lebeouf. He did what he could with what he was given. I think the idea of Indy having a son is awesome.

After the film, a beer was shared over sandwiches and bitching at Duke's (off Union Square). It's funny to sit and listen to people complain about suits and getting up early for work. This does not compute with my life whatsoever now. Thank god.

Dancing Through Time

I am watching Love in the Time of Cholera. Love never ends well when Gabriel Garcia Marquez writes it. It ends in death and misunderstanding and heartache. I wonder why his love stories are always full of despair.

Once upon a time I sat on a couch in Northern Spain and watched Javier Bardem in another movie with a dear friend I thought I loved. Those feelings once so strong dancing in a town square, now a memory of three years past. And now he comes to New York in September with a girlfriend in tow, fresh in love and I can't help but feel jealousy mixed with joy and stupid for not kissing him in Barcelona when I had the chance.

Tonight the light is beautiful. It is a creamy, glowing yellow light. The kind that falls after rain and through green pastures in Dutch paintings. And now it falls though my window and I am a girl in a Vermeer painting caught forever sitting in time.

The Good, The Bad and the Hungover

My head feels the way the sky looks, overcast.

Last night, I finally left the house and made it over to the Upper West Side where I met up with Jill, Ryan R and friends at Jake's Dilemma, a bar that is part of a post-frat, beer pong, chain of bars around Manhattan meant to make the patron feel as if he's never left college. I find these places infinitely amusing and my friends and I always have a fun time in the back, wearing jeans and t-shirts to the rest of the bar's collared shirts and mini skirts.

The group of friends Ryan and Jill were with were members of their Zog Kickball team. Zog is another one of these post-big state university things in the city where twenty and thirty somethings get together to play things like dodgeball in an organized fashion. Again, the premise might be a little douchey but it's all in good fun when you yourself are not in the bum slapping bro set. There were two particularly enjoyable guys in the group, one visiting from Manchester for two months and another who was a member of the kickball squad. The latter reminded me a bit of Mike (the guy in London) and made me nostalgic for our short time together. Reminded me how nice it is to have someone big and strong with their arm around you.

After a quick and fun game of Flip Cup, another one of these college things I never learned how to play, I ran out the door to meet Matt at Studio B for the much hyped Hercules and Love Affair show. What should have taken me 20 mins took me over an hour, but I finally got there and didn't get lost- what a miracle. There was also no guest list line, the door girl recognized my name, I got right in and somehow snaked my way to the front next to Matt, Abbey and Cameron, but not before brushing right past James Murphy, I was due for some luck at that point. Hercules and Love Affair took the stage soon after I got there but by that point, my migraine from the cheap beer at Jake's Dilemma and no food kicked into high gear and the crowd behind me nearly got more of show from me puking than from the front girl's gyrating hips. Some deep breaths finally got it under control but not before I grabbed Matt's shoulder and gave him a panicked look. I think the occasional migraine is a way of god telling me I am alive since I don't get sick (often).

The HaLA set was good. Great for the first show of a bunch of kids. It was cute how they didn't know protocol for encores and how to talk to the audience. With James Murphy and DFA behind them, they'll catch on soon enough. During their set, James Murphy was at the side of the stage being a 'dancing fool' as Matt called him. Did you know that Pitchfork gave MaLA's album a 9.1? Holy Mary. Here's a question, who in the world is that keyboardist? Matt and I recognized him but couldn't think of where we knew him.

I jetted to my car after the show and nearly fell asleep on the way home. Dangerous.

Saturday on Long Island

I saw Adam Green the other night at Town Hall. Tim Fite opened for him and made us all sing 'Head, Shoulder, Knees and Toes.' An odd coincidence because just a few days before that, I suddenly remembered that song and sang it to Sea on the phone. She had no clue what I was on about, as per usual. I think we used to sing it in Sunday School.

It's a beautiful day in New York. All yesterday into the the night, it rained. It was dark and cold and I spent most of the day in flannel pajamas sipping chocolate milk and then when work stuff was done, watching movies. Ryan and I rented I Am Legend and Stardust. I quite enjoyed I Am Legend and really liked Stardust. I Am Legend had me jumping up off the couch twice in horror and nervousness. I cried during the scenes of the people trying to escape Manhattan. I get very emotional over movies showing images like that about New York. I am pretty sure it has to do with some unresolved fear and sadness from 9/11.

Stardust though was all joy. When Yvaine tells Tristan that she would give her heart to him I suddenly remembered every feeling of romanticism I've ever felt. That once upon a time, not too long ago, I believed in love and romance. It's been a tough couple of years in that department for me. And despite trying to be a cavalier with my heart New Yorker, I've found that no matter how hard I try to convince myself I don't care. I do. Crawford told me last time I saw him, ' You are a romantic, it's one of your better qualities.' I am and you know what? I am alright with that. Last night, TBS broadcast the final episode of Sex and the City and near the end Carrie says 'I'm looking for love. Real love. Ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can't-live-without-each-other love.'
Sing it sister.

After the Jump Finally Gets Its Noise Stage

I told the boys they can do whatever they want when we decided to turn Galapagos into their coveted Noise Stage and they did a hell of a job...

2008 Noise Stage Lineup
@ Galapagos
June 21st, 2008 Noon

Featuring: Ponytail, Power Douglas, Fiasco, The Shackeltons, Extra Life, The Austerity Program, Cursillistas, Monotract, Dinowalrus, Autodrone, Alex and the Horribles, Noveller, Brilliant Sweater, and more!!!

After the Jump is the joint effort of 20 New York City music bloggers whose sites attract over one million readers a week. Founded last year in support of underfunded city school music programs, After the Jump has planned and staged concerts in association with the massive South by Southwest Music Festival in Austin, Texas and the CMJ Music Marathon in New York City as well as our own all day and night festival last summer in Brooklyn. This summer, on June 21st, After the Jump will be partnering with Make Music NY to throw our second annual festival, taking over the Music Hall of Williamsburg, Galapagos Art Space, and the North 6th Street itself with four stages and over 40 bands.

After the Jump Fest 2008 is brought to you by our awesome sponsors:
Metromix.com
Stereofame.com
Snoozer Loser
Gen Art Pulse

One Day

Today was After the Jump meeting day, amongst other things. It is also the day my final piece of teenage geekdom came crashing off my wall.

Dana Carvey has this bit in his stand-up where he mimicks a Valley Girl by saying 'Gawd, I woke up at noon and I'm still tired.' Well I woke up at 10am and had to hit snooze twice. I was suppose to be at Capitol Records by 12:30 for a luncheon and to see new band Saving Abel perform. A series of stupid driving decisions landed me in a $42 parking garage and scrounging for a left over coke in the back of the packed 10th floor of Capitol's midtown office.

So I sat in a corner and wrote notes for that evening's meeting while listening to the band play a toned down set for the gathered record execs and press. After the final song, I flagged down the real reason I was there, to see Miss Punk Photo who took me for lunch at the restaurant New York Mag deemed to have the best looking waitresses, Coffee Shop on Union Square.

After two hours of industry gossip and some serious ATJ talk, I strolled back to my car and enormous garage bill, stopping in H&M trying to find something pretty for Summer (no luck) and Verizon Wireless to argue with the sales help. By 4:30 I was in the East Village, parking spot attained, fresh make-up applied and in the former home of CBGB's, the new Morrison Hotel Gallery showing Bob Gruen. Is it just me or is he not a very good photographer? Though there was one particular shot of Yoko Ono and John Lennon standing on the street in NYC, taken the year I was born, that for some reason I felt very drawn to. John Lennon was shot in the city that a few days later, I was born in. It was such a sad week for the world and such a happy one in a hospital in Queens.

I still had an hour to waste before the meeting so decided to, just for kicks, tour the fancy new apartment building next to the Mercury Lounge, The Ludlow. Out of my price range and too small but you really couldn't beat the local.

As always, the meeting went well. I wish more people would come because it's nice as a group of friends to spend an hour chatting and making awesome decisions together, but I'm thankful to the diligent who do show, it's always a bright spot on my calendar and this week, newest ATJ blogger Danielle from Music is Art came as well. It was lovely to finally meet the writer behind the beautiful blog and find out she is even more amazing in person. Together with Matt, we saw Joan as Policewoman at Mercury Lounge after the meeting and then I headed home, arriving just in time for Top Chef.

Before bed, I caught up with The Physics of Meaning tour blog Wil is keeping on the Senryu Myspace. I don't know if I can describe how I felt reading it. Like I wish I was there, a little jealous, a little confused and something else... something a little empty and sad and nostalgic. Wil is a beautiful writer, am I surprised that a song writer and english major would be? I almost wish he weren't.

I climbed into bed a little after 2am to see that the cleaning lady had broken another one of my most prized possessions, the Captain Picard plate that my mother had brought back for me on a weekend antiquing trip with my dad. Back when my mom was able to do that sort of thing. The last stronghold of my flannel wearing, awkward teenage self. It'll be the last time she cleans my room. I don't have many objects that mean a lot to me, but I have a few- and they are breakable.