384: oh my gulay
I spent MLK weekend in New York, visiting friends, visiting family, and eating a lot of delicious food. Below are some notes:
Belleville – Brunch Saturday (1/14/06) with Sean. I had the omelet with argula, tomato, and Gruyere. Sean had the Mediterranean eggs, which were phenomenal. Sean and I talk about the screenplay we’re working on, pausing occasionally to admire the decor and wonder at how much money is earned by our fellow diners, who look casual in the way that only trustrafarians can.
Sweet n’ Tart – Dinner Saturday (1/14/06) with: Sean, Nadine, Joseline, Phillip. We think we order just enough food, but of course it is too much. Phillip’s rice comes in a hollowed out section of bamboo.
Winnie’s — Drinks Saturday night (1/14/06). Apparently, this place is hot right now. It was fun, definitely, because of the people I was with, but this place couldn’t hold a candle to Thursday night karaoke at Carol’s Pub. Which reminds me — anybody wanna go to Carol’s soon for karaoke? Bar was occupied mainly by a bunch of loud folks celebrating the birthday of a girl named “Betsy”, Betsy who wore a shapeless velour frock and opaque tights. She had girlfriends skinny enough that leggings bagged on them. It was kinda crazy. And I will not mention the mishap with Michelle’s bathroom taps — just not worth it.
200 5th — Sean and I wake up late Sunday (1/15/06), too late to say goodbye to Nadine, but not so late that we cannot have brunch at this cozy spot. Playoff games rule the day, so we overhear most of the Indiana-Pittsburgh game over burgers, spinach salad, and potato skins.
Brooklyn Industries, Beacon’s Closet, and Ozzie’s — Post-lunch walk down 5th Avenue. I buy two t-shirts for $5 at Bk Industries, a cool Tropicalia CD at Beacon’s Closet, and hot chocolate at Ozzie’s. And lest I forget — also at Beacon’s Closet, a badge that reads “I slept with Lionel Richie”. Bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
Park Slope Ale House (1/15/06): After quite a good chat with Sean about, like, love and stuff, we meet Renee here for drinks. Holy shit, is she funny. And we have a lot of reminiscing todo. Reminiscing which consists mainly of “Hey, do you remember so-and-so? What an asshole!” Seriously, it was fun to talk about old crushes, gay boyfriends, crazy dormitory neighbors, and how totally awesome we are now. The bar was super-cute — lots of dim corners and they make a decent hot toddy.
Krystal’s Cafe — Took Sean to this East Village Filipino restaurant with the entire family. Ate dinuguan, palabok, lumpia, and halo-halo before singing karaoke at our table. I never knew how much I loved my parents until I see my dad lean back in his chair, rub his belly, and warble “Just the Way You Are” while my mom gets up and shimmies to the beat. My sister Jackie sings Wham’s “Last Christmas” and Joseline did “Papa Don’t Preach”, the last which did not amuse my parents at all. I believe that Patrick stole the show, though, with this soul-stirring rendition of Bryan Adams’s immortal “(Everything I Do) I Do It for You”. I spend the night at my parents instead of returning to Brooklyn, where my things are stashed at Michelle’s apartment.
Florent (Monday 1/16/06) — So who cares if I was two hours late because 1. I woke up late, and 2. There was a fire on the 7 train so I walked from Junction Blvd. to 74th Street to catch the E? I turned up in the is it or isn’t it hip? Meatpacking District to meet Maria and her pals at Florent. Florent, the diner where, back for that brief period in 11th grade when I thought I could be popular, Jenny would try to take me after a night of underage clubbing at USA (how I miss that place — the big slide, the quarter porno booths), an unassuming boite where you will pay $6 for a bowl of steel cut oatmeal and you will like it. After breakfast, I say goodbye to Clancy, friends Lisa and Laura, Maria’s cousin Steve, and Maria and I walk and talk back to her adorable apartment. She shows me the patio, still bearing traces of the debaucherous party she had last summer. I tour her small yet charming apartment, meet her cats, take a shower (because I’ve actually not showered since Friday night — ew), talk about snowboarding. I leave too soon, but I must get to Brooklyn so I can see Michelle for all of 20 minutes, ogle her pictures from her weekend in Haiti (link is below — she met Wyclef!), and breathe a little before Daddy drives up in the pimpin’ van to take me to the airport.
Post-trip post-script: I hate turbulence, and it seems to me that flights between Chicago (ORD or MDW) and New York (LGA or EWR) always have a little. Turbulence into EWR on 1/14/06 wasn’t horrific, but I was nervous. I had this feeling that it could have been much worse, but I felt a kind of calm while I drug my fingernails into the arms of my seat. I joined a long line of passengers in thanking the pilot, who appeared flustered by all the attention. I even sent a compliment to him via the United web site, an act which Cynthia found amusing. Whatever — it was awesome.
Cynthia got to see my apartment. I came home for lunch on Wednesday so I could let in the cable guy to fix the connection, and wait for the DHL driver to come and pick up some boxes. We watched ‘Judging Amy’, me eating a sandwich and Cynthia talking to her man (who is gonna be on ‘Prison Break’ later this year!) and pronounced the apartment to be lovely. Hurrah.
In anticipation of Valentine’s Day 2006, the beginnings of another sad bastard mix. I’ll publish the full mix on my last.fm page very soon.
mix name: “oh you sad bastard”
- Rufus Wainwright, “The Maker Makes”
Gustavo Santaolalla, “The Wings”
Ibrahim Ferrer, “Silencio”
Kylie Minogue, “Someday”
Shudder to Think feat. John Doe, “Speed of Love”
Mariah Carey, “Breakdown” (I know a lot of you hate the MC, but this song fucking rocks and besides, when else are you going to hear Bone Thugs in this day and age?)
“If I ever die, do me a favor. Go on Oprah and tell the world that I loved kittens.”
Gal Costa – Sebastiana (this song totally rules); Os Mutantes – A Minha Menina; Hall & Oates – Private Eyes; Terry Hunter – Sweet Music
http://www.thirstywhale.com/index2.asp (the photo album is like the metal version of www.hotghettomess.com)