selam superstar...

finding confetti for days...

so, today has been a bit of a bittersweet/shiite kind o' day. here's some angst in bullet-form:

perma-headache that began as a piercing white pain behind my left eyebrow. after a self-head massage (snicker, snicker), i managed to diffuse the eyebrowcentrism to a more manageable dull ache between my temples.

a rushed and unsatisfying lunch which i purchased with my credit card because i left my debit card and cash in my other pants.

a quick lesson in opportunism.

but on the plus side...

got a much appreciated sugary sweet text that made my heart smile

i successfully resisted the urge to numb my dissatisfaction with today by buying pretty little things

ran into duckduck dave on my way home, engaged in some light-hearted banter that made me feel better. and then, all of a sudden, an open-top, safari-style jeep packed to the brim with bushwick hipsters came barreling around the corner. dave responded with, "look at these douchebags!" i turned and totally recognized an exceedingly thin, swoopy-haired boy in the backseat. awesome.

so today's been weird/terrible, but i did have the best weekend ever!

friday
impromptu girldate! i was alone in the apt, tiya having gone home for the holiday weekend, so i was looking forward to a bit of social interaction. alliepants called me and we arranged to meet for drinks and possible bbq. headed to fette sau (the epitome of ironic hipster barbecue) to meet up with allie's pal. i feel the need to mention my unironic appreciation of this meat-eating hipster movement that's begun spreading throughout my age group. i like meat. grew up liking it and continued to enjoy well into my post-adolescent years. for a while, vegetarianism and (gasp) veganism, were the standard culinary choices of many of my friends. i held fast to my carnivorous nature, taking special care not to judge or attempt to entice my more socially-minded friends to the dark side. and now, it seems as though the true rebels are embracing meat, reveling in its juicy after drippings without apology. whew...

so yes, fette sau... allie and i changed our mind(s) and decided to just drink. crossed the street to that wine/beer bar she loves and whose name i can never remember... spike and something. i'm not much of a beer connoisseur, so i informed the casually disheveled bartender that i would like something light, sweet and preferably belgian. he produced a hearty mega beer called goliath, sold in wine bottles, and boasting a 9% alc vol. delicious. and then i discovered they have mead. if you recall, after having imbibed mead for the first time at tiya's holiday party, i became an insta-fan, but sadly hadn't had the chance to have it again... until friday night. it was as delicious if not moreso than i remembered. hurray! and then a few sips of allie and rebecca's framboise, because it's also delicious. we all became uber giggly, stopped off at the bushwick country club (hahahaha!) for what turned out to be the worst photobooth session i've ever been a part of! in spite of the inferior photo results, i had a spectacular time with my ladies.


saturday
felt like poo for much of the day, which made me angry since one of my favorite high school friends was coming to town to hang out! luckily pulled it together in time to meet her and her crew in soho. took them to barneys co-op where i purchased yet another pair of cheap mondays (hot damn, these greywash ones are amazing) and got shyrynne to try on a bunch o' crap too! her cousin and friend decided they were bored of walking the streets with us, so they retired to, presumably, make out while shyrynne and i headed to room 18 for a steak sandwich.

headed home for a quick half hour of couch-loungin before realizing that my beloved jay brannan was playing a show at mo pitkins in a matter of minutes! threw on my montreal dress and some cutiepie flats and shyrynne and i booked to the LES, only to discover that it was sold out. no worries, though, because there was a freestyle rap battle involving becky drysdale goin down upstairs that could not be missed. made our way upstairs, purchased strong libations from the charming irish bartender and took a seat close to the stage. the premise of the show was this... 5 comedians and one (un)lucky audience member would freestyle rap at each other and the audience would determine the victor of each battle by level of applause. the chosen audience member turned out to be a serious redhead in a tight cream and kelly green satin tube top dress and very high heels with, apparently, a lot of rage. rap battles outside of 1983 are, by nature, embarrasing at best, but thanks to my high spirits and shyrynne's presence, i spent the whole time giggling my ass off. three notable moments in the battle:

1. the winner who was more than slightly reminiscent of bud bundy didn't blink once while he was in the midst of rapping

2. the unassuming cargo-shorted, bespectacled and freckled boy with the best beatboxing skillz i've ever witnessed firsthand

3. rebecca drysdale referring to her mic as a "dykerophone"

the show ended, bud bundy won and attempted to chat us up (hey ladies...), and we headed back into the bar area with the irish bartender who delightfully poured me a pint (wee, a pint!) of jameson and ginger on the house. took a couple goofy piccies and called it a night round 1am.


sunday
sunday was the best and totally made me re-realize how much enjoy spending time alone when the weather's beautiful! shyrynne's cousin picked her up from mine in the late morning and i watched bits and pieces of the naked brothers band and twirled around in my bedroom. long, cool shower. slipped/shoe-horned my way into my new cheap mondays and artfully mussed my oversized white tank. navy and white wing-tip kitten heels. essential items and my DSLR all went into my tote from ICFF and i headed to union square. got myself a little picnic lunch and ate under a large american elm in union square, watching teenage couples awkwardly engage in public displays of PG-13 affection and two separate groups of modern and/or gay fellows play card games on picnic blankets.

slowly sauntered down broadway swigging from my bottle of smartwater and occasionally closing my eyes to feel the sunshine on my eyelids and also to see how long i could walk without tripping or slamming into someone. stopped off at barnes & noble where i purchased a choose your own adventure book for grownups and made my way down st. marks place to find that vaguely european bar that i like so much. i'd been walking for a handful of avenues, becoming less and less confident in my navigational skills until i noticed a near empty bar across the street that looked moderately inviting... upon crossing the street, i realized that it was in fact the bar i had been searching for! and there was an empty table outside! what luck! i staked my claim on the empty table and ordered a blue moon. settled in for a pleasant late afternoon of slow beer drinking and adventure choosing. i don't know who this writer is, but she has an extraordinary ability to conjure up the most bizarre and unexpected ways for you to die. i especially enjoyed the death by sharpened paintbrush shot through a bow by a jilted lover. another beer and a plate of proscuitto and asparagus bruschetta later, i had died in many fantastic ways, a few unfantastic ways and had managed to spend the better portion of the daylight hours sitting alone at a table on st. marks place. gathered my belongings, tipped the waitress well and headed back home.

at this point, i still hadn't decided whether i wanted to go see my pal's band play at pianos. there were plenty of reasons to inform my decision either way and ultimately i decided to go. i was feeling sassy. a french electro noise duo with whom i've recently become obsessed was the opener. and shyrynne and co. were already in the vicinity of the east village. met them out, but by the time i got there, they were already weary from a long day of shopping and general touristdom. they bid polite goodbyes, i hugged shyrynne and headed over to welcome to the johnsons to meet up with tom, aaron and posse. quick introductions to about 8 people i didn't know. giggles and quick catch up. realized it was getting close to the frenchies' set, so we all made a mass exodus over to pianos. en route, i ran into tiya's friend with whom i occasionally butt heads. genuinely friendly hugs/high fives and then it was time for the frenchies... the berg sans nipple! huzzah!

they were astounding. i've never before seen a fellow play the drums and kiddie xylophone at the same time. or rock a mini steel drum and a vocoder. so many pedals. so many gadgets. so much awesome. if you ever get the opportunity to see these boys play, please allow me to highly suggest that you make it happen. and the super tall, blondish one totally looked like my fella... so basically, he's a stud.



after their set, i discovered that there was a slammin danse party happening upstairs. seriously... best dansable tunes i've encountered in this city thus far! the dj boys were just so into every song they were playing and they danced and giggled and thrust fistfuls of paper confetti at the danciest folks within reach. confetti in my hair. confetti in my shoes. confetti in my beer. made fast friends with a particularly dansey, curly-coiffed boy named carlos. informed him early on of my "in a relationship" status and yet he remained awesome, dansey and super platonic. we spent the next hour or so twirling and flailing and jumping on the furniture to jackson 5, "two of hearts", and that awesome 80s prom song they play when molly ringwald walks into the ballroom with jon cryer near the romantic climax of "sixteen candles".

then it was time for bellman barker - and they did such a lovely job! i hadn't seen them play in probably over a year, possibly longer. tom was as basstastic and frantic as i remembered. aaron was lovely and a little grittier than i remembered. basically, they were all super fun and i was moved to dance and sing along to whichever songs i remembered from my dc days. met a fun gal named hatti who was in our crew and we danced and giggled the whole set through.

stuck around for a while, danced it out with hatti, watched an angry jersey-goth get into a semi-fight with the bouncers and then shake his fist up at the sky while spouting inventive obscenities. called it a night soon after the crazy goth relieved himself on a nearby fence, bid farewell to my dc friends and made my way to the subway, stopping off for a quick happy meal and phone call to the spencerator.

got home round 3ish. crawled into bed, warm and satisfied. before i shut my eyes, i surveyed the small trail of white confetti strewn across my bedroom floor and scattered amidst my sheets and reflected on one of the most fun sunday evenings i've had in a long, long time...



current musical obsessions:
the veils - advice for young mothers to be
the berg sans nipple - mystic song
secret mommy - kool aid river
lo-fi fnk - wake up

scott stapp is illuminated...

got solicited to take pictures at a show at mercury lounge a few thursdays ago, so i bundled up my lil camera, my thirst for adventure, and a pair of awesome ladies and headed out for some rock.

first stop - met up with leslie, my uva/fashion design club pal from academic years past, for dinner at a lovely low-key bar down the way, Room 18. i had the sandwich of my dreams... marinated flank steak with provolone and a side of fried plantains. it's basically a glorified cheesesteak, but oh god does it rock my world. she had the duck wrap. i think the steak is better.

after having our delicious dinner, we headed over to mercury lounge to meet up with tiya. they got a drink while i headed back to the stage to get some practice in on the first band. 'twas my first time using my digirebel for band photography and i definitely only had an inkling of an idea of how to use it! pushed lots of buttons and messed with settings until i had a better understanding of how to work with the stage lighting because i find flash photography (especially at a show) imposing.

first band was jared scharff and the royals. tiya was into them. i giggled at their final guitar solos and half expected them to welcome us to the jungle. after the show, when we were on our way back to our respective homes, a be-hatted fellow approached and inquired as to who i was taking pictures for. he also asked how the sound was - i asked if he was a sound guy to which he replied, "no, i was in the first band". we all giggled, applauded leslie for her hot dance moves/ass and i struck up a conversation with the guitarist's tall angular friend of ambiguous ethnicity (he may or may not have mentioned something about being a jewish native american).

second band was the upwelling; their keyboardist is the chap who asked me to take the pictures. we gave him a nickname. they opened with the one song that i'd heard before and actually really like, despite being moderately embarrassed by their dramatic opening light scheme. took tons o' piccies, successfully steering clear of too many obviously posed shots, because that's just not my style. definitely felt like the singer was playing to the camera, which is fine... makes my job pretty easy. but over the past few years that i've occassionally taken band pictures, i've determined that i take the best pictures when the subject doesn't realize he/she's being photographed... thus my love affair with non-flash photography.

after those boys played, i was all set to leave as i'd had a long day lugging my camera around and my super hot boots were beginning to totally fucking hurt, but then... out of the corner of my eye... i spotted a very skinnie boy in white jeans that were so tight they may as well have been leggings. a red satin cowboy shirt with fringe. snakeskin boots. old timey saloon-style vests. a bowler hat. there was no way i could leave when the next band had style such as this. they're called the films and they're from south carolina and they looked more new york hipster than anyone else there. i love taking pictures of hip kids, so i continued to stake out my 3 square feet of space at the front of the room, just to the left of the singer's mic. there was an older, cbgb-style rocker man and his youngish, leather mini-skirted female companion off to my right. he may or may not have been tommy hilfiger's brother and one of my friends may or may not have made out with him. the films put on an excellent show and gave great face for my piccies.

i got my act together and totally saw them again...

tidbits.

photog
i've been wanting to take some fun piccies of attractive washing machines and dryers for a while (don't ask why, it's just one of those things), but had had no luck. all the laundromats i knew of were cursed with bland, beige machines with no aesthetic appeal to me. until i stopped in at the one near the subway a few days ago and realized the machines are so pretty! so i finally got what i hope will be the first of many laundr-o-shots.

digital starfucker
i sold some fancy mosaic tile to one of the fellows who makes up electro duo, fischerspooner and proceeded to giggle and spread the word to anyone who'd listen (and some who weren't) for the rest of the day.

big mouth
despite the fact that i put practically all my business on the line, i'm still surprised to find someone i wasn't anticpating who reads my bloggie boos. such an occasion arose the other night at my beloved duck duck. high-five, cabbage-patchin' dave and sassy ms. jenny informed me that they'd stumbled upon SURFACE after googling themselves and proceeded to shower me with fun compliments. if i weren't so brown, i would have blushed. for serious. i love those sunny kids and i love the duck.

racial tension and ass-kickery on the L-train
on my way home from work on friday i witnessed my first subway fight. this oldish man with high-waisted pants and a vacant gaze was spouting off obscenities about the racial degradation of the neighborhood, that the whole place has gone to pot since "the spaniards and the blacks" came to town. a 30-something brown woman next to him was becoming increasingly agitated and firmly asked the man to refrain from cursing in front of her young daughter. he declined. they continued arguing back and forth and when the train stopped at grand st, the woman unexpectedly leaped from her seat and threw one of the man's bags onto the platform. he got up to get it and she pushed him out of the car, keeping him out with her leg until the train doors closed. everyone in the car applauded the little girl removed her hands from her ears.

oh, there's my chiffon!
bought a really ugly dress at h&m because it was so ugly that i couldn't not have it in my wardrobe. it photographs well and that pleases me.

brooklyn girldate 2007
i fucking love brooklyn girls. tiya and i have been fortunate to meet a gaggle of sassy silly ladies who live quite close by. we all met up for dinner/drinks at santa fe on saturday night and it was unbelievably enjoyable. the waiter looked like scott baio and he was totally in charge of lydia. the bartender had floppy hair and wore rose-tinted glasses. there was a 3 foot plaster santa claus with "FE" written in black marker on his festive hat. as the night wore on and our table became cluttered with guac, complimentary tortilla chips and empty margarita glasses, our voices became raised and talk turned to dirtiness. i apologize to anyone who was near us, trying to quietly enjoy their meal amidst our sailor talk.

after dinner, it was off to what has quickly become my saturday night equivalent of black cat, black cat... union pool. more drinks, more giggles. some boys whisked emmy away to salsa. a bearded boy tried to give me vibes and his phone number. we liked the bartender with the hat (but not without it). a very old man told us we all had it goin on. ran into the UK boys from NYE weekend, i've forgotten their names again, but they're very pleasant. i flashed my belly to a group of unsuspecting, innocent male bystanders; tiya does an excellent impression, ask her when you see her next. lost steam super early and headed home, giggling loudly on the phone with the spencerator.

mini shopping trip in billyburg
SLUTTY ATTIRE
the prospect of a pants off, danse off party in the district is proving exceedingly difficult to resist. so i'm planning on making a trip down there in the super near future. naturally, i took this as an opportunity to get some new cute underthings that will temporarily become outerthings. but where to purchase borderline (and perhaps over the border) racy things that make my bod look hot but not porn starry. of course, the natural and obvious answer is american apparel. red bra to be worn under a sheer hoodie and teeny tiny hot pants. so looking forward to strutting while scantily clad in january.

VERY SMALL PRESENT
i got you a teeny tiny present that i think you will like very much.

RECORDS
was the only girl in the record shop, which i think directly influenced the fact that i scored a white label squarepusher promo for free from the beared record shop guy. purchased the following staples that everyone in the world has in their record collection:
beatles - abbey road
beatles - rubber soul (love, love, love this one... used to always play my housemate's copy while cookin in my fabulous ex-house in dc)
michael jackson - thriller
cyndi lauper - she's so unusual
echo and the bunnymen - S/T

and it all only ran me about $30... i love brooklyn.

the most recent songs that have ensnared my heart:
presets - down, down, down
presets - girl and the sea
fischerspooner - never win
cut copy - future
css - music is my hot hot sex