Author: deuxmillesix
8/1/06 11:45 a.m.
Here I sit, toiling away on the 28th floor, entering cost card after cost card to the system they call Alchemy. Poof! Your dream is materialized into stainless steel, identity on a chain, (collect them all!) while you network in the Hamptons, placing ice ’round the necks of Sean Paul and Pras.
“It’s gonna be grrrrreeaaatt!”
A sneer from Ranch Jr, as he heads to the Executive Elevator, tearing into a single serving bag of Lay’s plain potato chips, while a plastic Mendy’s bag containing a weighty mound of turkey breast dangles from his heavily braceleted wrist.
“Diggggy… Diggy is picking me up downshtairs,” he says, mouth full of chips, “And we are gonna OWN Shouthampton!!,” he exclaims brandishing his Blackberry. “It’sh gonna be a Home RUN!”
7/30/06 10:30 a.m.
Summer in New York City has got to be one of the latest and greatest marvels of life. For the past several years, the amount of summer time I spend in New York has increased with each passing year. ’99-’01, I spent a lot of muggy days going to shows at Abc No Rio and dining at Kate’s Joint after. In summer ’02 I visited Williamsburg for the first time, with friends in a band. I spent the whole day wandering the neighborhood, meeting friends and discovering a whole new world of NYC. In ’03, I visited NYC three times while touring, selling merch. On that visit, while eating lunch outside at Rice in Dumbo, I determined that my goal was to move to NYC, specifically Williamsburg, Brooklyn. In ’04, I realized that goal, spending ten days staying between the East Village and East Williamsburg, finally landing on South 2nd Street in August of that year.
Last year, 2005, was my first full summer in New York, and it was then that my favorite native New Yorker buddy Bobby introduced me to Warm Up at MoMA PS1. Warm Up is an outdoor dance party on Saturday afternoons in the yard of MoMA’s Long Island City contemporary outpost, PS1, and it has been my favorite thing in New York City of all time since then. However. The McCarren Pool parties now seem to be such contenders for the NYC good time spotlight that I didn’t even mention the Warm Up party from July 15!
The 15th’s party pales in comparison to yesterday’s perfection. (Tho Kudu were good & I found their CD at Earwax!)
It does not detract from Warm Up’s appeal that Gerard popped into town, and he offered to put me on the guest list…? I just have to give him a haircut in exchange. ;)! This year’s installation in the yard has curving plywood canopies and a 6” deep plywood-edged soaking pool in the shape of an 8. Pods that emit a fine mist of water are placed about. It is a splendidly forgiving art installation that allows for a maximum comfort. The music line up was a perfect blend of my converging worlds– Detroit + Brooklyn Old and New (my term, *shrug*). We ran into Harv, Shea and Stefan… Harv was sporting black wayfarers, some sort of Q-Bert looking all over print t-shirt, and a bucket hat. Shea was in black denim cutoffs and a perfect army green t-shirt. Blake and I danced all afternoon….
Sadly Blake and I were the only gals hanging…. She and I fell asleep watching HBO in my bed. I don’t know why les autres filles weren’t there. I think Krissie and Mercedes both had to work…. On a blessed Saturday! Word on the street is that Sophi will be back in town soon….
A gal needs her soeurs, n’est-ce pas?
7/27/06 9:25 a.m.
Le Bloggeur… We started off at The Magician. Our conversation was interesting. I was describing the hierarchy of Simons Jewel Co., my many bosses, the relations, the names, and the hiphop lessons, when I had to pause to allow L.B. to share with me the pecking order of the Comedy Central mailroom. We moved to Local 138, where our biographical discourse shifted backward to a comparison of our time spent working in corporate Rust Belt suburbia.
The night ended at 10:00 p.m. on the dot because L.B. is a serious gym-goer who starts at 6:00 a.m. and goes to bed at 10:30 p.m. sharp during the week.
There is talk of continuing the conversation at Cake Shop next week.
7/25/06 2:32 p.m.
Went to lunch with Leigh and the gals. Cash has not mentioned Lester, and I have not heard from him. All is well!
Tomorrow I am meeting Le Bloggeur at The Magician. 😀
What to wear…?
7/23/06 11:53 p.m.
Rewind 😉 on the Epic Sunday of the Epic Philadelphia Weekend!
Blake and I caught the 1:00 p.m. 2000 Bus back to NYC.
I did not mention in yesterday’s post that she and I did a bit of damage on Saturday….. The shopping is just more condensed in Philadelphia! We found a shop called Rewind, and I couldn’t resist a few vintage blouses. Then we hit Walnut Street and I found some cute, comfortable dark salmon slingbacks, and gray tapered Levi’s. Whoops! But I love, love, love what I found. It’s going to be a whole new Charli strutting around the Big Apple.
I mentioned yesterday that I didn’t know where Blake disappeared to on Friday evening. Well, I am still not 100% clear on who lives where in this microcosm of Queen Village borderline The Nickel, as it is a complex maze of dead end right angles, not unlike that dot-and-line pen game people play when there is nothing else to do. But Billy and Sari live where I stayed, and Sari has a young lil’ boi-toi across the alley, where she stays much of the time. I’ve been staying in Sari’s [curtain-less] room. (“I saw you changing *wink*,” she leered at me in the orange light of the Transit basement bar, while we waited for our Jaeger shots with Red Bull chasers, a variation on the famous Philadelphia ‘Twizzler’.) Blake has been staying in Sweet Billy’s room. Maria and Sari are staying at boi-toi’s across the alley. Blake and Sweet Billy had a shy, gentle flirtation building over the previous 24 hours. Late Saturday night, they drifted toward the bedroom together. “I’m going to get ready for bed,” she told him. “Okay,” he responded. Blake went to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, washed her face, put on leggings and a hoodie. She went back to the bedroom, and Sweet Billy was waiting for her, completely nude, under the comforter. !
They were both mortified, Blake relayed to me on the bus ride. Sweet Billy scrambled to get dressed as quickly as possible, apologizing as he pulled on his little skinny jeans. “He had these tiny purple boxer briefs,” she kept shuddering, reliving the embarrassment.
Lester had a 2:00-something train back to NYC, and he was asking where we will all meet once back in New York! Blake suggested The Levee, so after dropping our bags off, we grabbed our bikes and the next thing I knew, we were sailing down Wythe Ave, the Williamsburg bridge looming in the distance. We toasted Lone Stars over vegan Frito pie (it’s a thing that exists!) and then made our way toward the shuffleboard court. Blake’s buddies who live in the Garment District showed up, as did Lester! We were there for hours, playing the jukebox and Big Buck Hunter and Photo Match. The bartender kept sending around bowls of cheese balls and candy. I was shimmying around with Lester, smoking Parliaments, having a grand old time, but I knew I had to get home.
Lester looked at me, in white 70s tennis shorts and loose white Fred Perry, unbuttoned, “Let me walk you home,” he said.
“Okay,” I responded.
We walked on Berry Street, and I dug my hands into the pockets of my denim vest. I felt a little skip in my step, as we scuffed upwards toward Greenpoint. The sky was clear and sapphire blue-black, city lights twinkling around.
Lester and I had a sweet walk, and I asked him where he was going.
“Murray Hill,” he said. “I live in my friend’s basement.”
He walked me up to where Berry Street becomes Nassau Avenue and N. 15th Street triangles over Banker Street.
“This is good, I can take it from here. I don’t know how you’re going to get to Murray Hill,” I said.
“Me neither,” Lester winked.
We hugged and said a cute goodbye, and I just came in to tell you all about how it feels nice to know new people. 🙂
Love,
Charli
7/23/06 8:45 a.m.
Ok, I at least slept past 8:00 a.m.
Lester is so cute!
We found him in the basement bar at Transit.
We were texting all day, laughing about how to meet up.
When he came upon Blake, Maria and I, we all did a group hug and then immediately fell into step dancing to Peekaboo by Siouxsie… Lester called us the brunette babe crew and we danced all night. We found Sweet Billy at the end of the night, and his sister drove us home. It felt like we were getting picked up in the parking lot of Lollapalooza by our mom. Lester went to wherever he is staying… ❤
7/22/06 7:45 a.m.
Ugh, I wake up so early, and this room has blasting sun and no curtains and Blake is who knows where, so I’m writing this from whoever’s computer this is. Shhhh.
Chinatown bus took 4 hours to get to Philly.
Four.
Hours.
At one point, the bus stopped in the middle of 95 South, next to Newark Airport, and the driver got out and closed the luggage gate, which had been left open, apparently. Safety first!
At another point, the bus was on a cul-de-sac in a Cherry Hill neighborhood. We had to back up to circle the sac.
So by the time we made it down to the Mummers Museum, it was nearly 11.
But we saw the end of Hollertronix! At the Mummers Museum. We downed one Sparks each and danced for ten minutes and then we had to leave.
Oh, that’s why I can’t sleep. Sparks.
And then we went to a party on a roof where an old college-era chum of mine, Alexander Digby, was DJing. I promptly ran into that pally-pal buddy boy of mine, former fellow Simons Jewel Co. colleague, Ryan Berg. On a roof. In South Philadelphia, of all places. But it was actually sweet to see him, and he served Blake and I drinks and a little blunt right away, and then we danced….
… For 5 minutes until the cops broke up the party!
A DJ sound system on a roof in the thick of South Philadelphia row houses… I’m surprised it lasted the 5 minutes it did!
In the thick of the party scurry exodus, I happened upon none other than Joseph Whitey, who happened to be driving his aunt’s P.T. Cruiser convertible (beige with a cream top). Whitey scooped us up! I am still laughing. We had the top down, and Blake, Maria and I sat up on the back seat. Whitey was driving with Sweet Billy riding shotgun. Whitey insisted on giving us his “Fuck You Tour of Philadelphia”. So he took us up Broad Street, from Washington Ave. The tour starts at Washington and consists of Whitey screaming Fuck you! to each street we pass. “Hey Carpenter Street, fuck you!” “Hey Christian Street, fuck you!” “Hey Catherine Street, fuck you!” and so on, all the way up to City Hall. The tour concludes with “Fuck you, City Hall, fuck you!” In classic Whitey absurdist mundane entertainment, he does not miss a street or a beat, and then he capped the tour off with three or four encore finale loops down Juniper Street, back to city Hall, right on Market, right on Juniper and repeat.
We laughed all the way back to Washington Ave where Whitey dropped us off.
I wandered straight to bed and have no clue where the others went…
7/21/06 10:52 a.m.
Ladies, the ultimate plan of action is for Blake, Maria and I to depart midtown Manhattan at precisely 5:25 p.m. and convene on East Broadway and Forsyth to catch the 6:00 p.m. Chinatown bus to Philly. Because… tonight there is a Hollertronix reunion at the Mummers Museum !!! And tomorrow there is Making Time at Transit !!! (Shhhh…. Quietly excited / guilty pleasure. I don’t want my cool Brooklyn friends to know that I still enjoy Making Time…. And especially at its home base of Transit.
Blake and I have a room at Sweet Billy’s, and Maria is around the corner on Randolph Street! And we all have A/C!
Adding to the fun? Cash Kaufman just connected me to his cool friend Lester, who happens to be going to Philadelphia solo this weekend and does not know a soul. I know, I know– that sounds very creepy! But there is such a thing as a cool guy named Lester! I met him with Cash once, and he’s got a cute mustache and kinda tennis style… And goofy. 😉
3:52 p.m.
The day is crawling by. Cash has called me over to his desk twice to examine his photoshop work wherein he has replaced Ranch Jr.’s eyes with white pods. And then he prints them out full page size. They are great works of art.
5:15 p.m.
Today, I shall channel the Chinese ladies of the diamond department and queue up for the security check at exit at precisely 5:20 to be in the down elevator at 5:25. I will use their power to gain swift and painless entry to the 6:00 p.m. 2000 Bus. Godspeed.
7/20/06 2:31 p.m.
Walks After Work:
Since I moved to NYC in ‘04, I have regularly enjoyed taking a long walk after work. I work in One Rockefeller Center, on 48th Street and 5th Ave. In the morning, I am racing against the following: time in general, the subway and its crowds, The Today Show being filmed on Rockefeller Plaza and its crowds, and the elevator to the 29th floor and its crowds. In my head the phrase “time to make the jewelry” a la the ol’ Dunkin Donuts commercial repeats over and over.
But after work, Manhattan is my oyster, and I’ve got time to spare. I like to amble all the avenues, memorizing their unique sights. During the transit strike of ‘05, I walked all the way home from work to where I was living in Williamsburg, and it took about and hour and a half. In an ankle length bubble jacket during the December cold, no less! (I think I proclaimed myself the fastest walker in Brooklyn on myspace).
Cherishing my exploratory strolls, I set my sights on Soho yesterday. Summer… maybe a lil faire du shopping….
Until I was so rudely interrupted by
Someone emptying what had to have been
deux mille six 