Un mec qui s’appelle Le Bloggeur and I have been exchanging emails all morning. Of course, just after some new male prospects enter from stage left, someone else enters from stage right.
And let’s not forget the pathetic graphic designer at work who has resumed attempting to flirt with me now that he knows my “fake” boyfriend was in fact real, and the relationship is now over. Ugh, why can’t I learn to be fake in conversations at work?
Love affair with North Brooklyn. There are outdoor parties in this neighborhood, in a gigantic empty pool. Bands play and beer is for sale. All around you, aging hipsters frolic on a slip n slide or encase their pregnant body in an American Apparel catsuit. Serious looks stroll by– stilettos, tiny cut offs and a beehive ponytail (supposedly an up-and-comer named Amy Winehouse?) Friends abound, sharing Booker’s. Mercedes, Krissie and I met a crew of gents who have a band called Hull.
Found a moment to write on this stupid hectic Monday after what was possibly the greatest night and morning of my life.
FIRST OF ALL, on Friday Krissie invited me to hang out at none other than the guitarist of ROLLINS BAND’s (!!!) West Village apartment. Wow. Houston and Bedford. As Blake proclaimed when she met us there, “Niiiiice diiiiigs.” (She propped her feet on the dining room [dining room??!] table as she said this; it is why I love her.)
They were very nice digs indeed, and it was such. A. Cool. Evening.
Because!!!
On Sunday, we were invited to the Rollins Band show at B.B. King’s Ballroom for free + backstages passes + (Hank present)!!!!
Ok, ok, I know you all don’t understand why I am such a Henry fan. But come ON! Henry’s Film Corner of IFC?? And literally everything else? I love H. Rollins and always have.
AND
I GOT HOME AND EMAILED HIM AND HE WROTE BACK THIS MORNING. LIKE IT AINT NO THANG.
And for the none of you who know that Hank is notorious for always writing back to fans, and promptly at that, let me have my moment.
“Charli, thanks for the kind letter. Perhaps next time. Thanks for coming to the show and I am really glad you liked it. Henry”
In the words of Barry, SCREW YOU / I love my life.
P.S. Krissie was out casing chicken coops before I met her on Friday. *shudder*
Alors, les fille, I guess this is now back to being a dreamboating blog. The Bloggeur did not reach me this weekend. 😦
How long does it take to move into an apartment and not get beat up by a Caroll Gardens pseudo-gangster? >:-/ Le sigh….
BUT I GUESS I DON’T CARE BECAUSE TOMORROW IS 4TH OF JULY AND I GET TO LEAVE AT 1:00 TODAY!!!!!! Thank you, Cash Kaufman, for flying out to Detroit! Thank you Diggy Simons for inviting Ranch Jr. to the Hamptons!! Thank you, Leigh, for vocalizing and executing our “Assistant Level” (Ranch Jr. voice!) exodus! In 3.5 hours, until July 5th at 9:00 a.m., New York City is mine for the taking…..
When selling clothes to the local Buy-Sell-Trade establishment, bring only a few items. Seven maximum. I just made $34 and got a cute new top, that I am thinking of bleaching. Blake and I are making tomato soup and grilled cheese for dinner after a fun day riding around the neighborhood. She has friends from Cali here, we are going to show them the ‘hood. I can now afford The Levee!
I peeped a Claw Money on bike today, Cash will think I am cool on Monday.
He lives in Cleveland and will be moving to NYC July 1.
Seems cute (possibly hot??), and he replied to our email chain today saying, “Yes, Charli, I shall meet you once I am certain I have survived moving in past my mobbed up neighbors. I am bringing a baseball bat, so I should be fine.”
New and non-Michigan midwestern, what a treat. Gotta tell you, the party house gang seem to have become a wolf pack. They’re out for fresh meat. I’m looking for a cool breeze…
Have not written for a while because Leigh and I have been so slammed at work dealing with all of the post-Vegas orders. Apparently, Cash and the Ranches did in fact slam it out of the park. Wish it benefitted me in some way instead of simply increasing my number of bosses to 7, but hey. I’m lucky to have a job.
Anyway, Blake and I are busy on the Brooklyn bike circuit! We rode to Ryerson Street in Clinton HIll on Thursday for TV with some of Maria’s friends. I ❤ biking in Brooklyn!
We are a funny pair, me on my bmx and Blake on her beach cruiser. But we can go everywhere! Sure beats driving tipsy…. And cheap to boot.
Everyone is back from Las Vegas and I am writing this as Cash congregates with the inner circle of hip hop mogul Diggy Simons.
It’s a surreal existence. Gals, if you think you don’t know Diggy— you know Diggy. He helped start the most major of hip hop record labels in the 80s and then went on to start the first official hip hop clothing line; married a model who started a female counterpart to his clothing line, etc, etc. And the Wu Wears and Roc-a-Wears and Dereon Jeans of the world came tumbling after. Diggy is considered the impresario behind hip hop’s commercial rise. He now has licensed his name to fine jewelry, on which I apparently work. Right now, I am preparing a memo of samples to go to him post-Vegas. I have Diggy Simons’ address. (Saddle River, NJ) His inner circle consists of two gents– Darnell Bartell and Brian Leung.
A Queens native, Brian Leung’s style can only be described as ghetto fabulous. He is the head designer for Diggy’s men’s clothing line and wears a lot of Louis Vuitton: backpack, wallet, Louis Black Flag bars tee, etc; with green and yellow Nike Dunks and an Oakland A’s cap tilted to the side. He accessorizes the look with 18K yellow gold glasses, a raccoon tail (I thought they were only for Williamsburg rocker hipsters—??!) that dangles from his Louis belt, and his ubiquitous companion, Change the Pomeranian.
Darnell adopts the style of an upscale music industry exec, in white Polo Ralph Lauren button downs, sweater vests, dark jeans, Tod’s loafers and Buddy Holly glasses with sky blue lenses à la Randy Jackson of American Idol.
Word on the street is that Cash and Ranch Jr. “hit a home run” [their words] with the collection in Vegas, and here I am, furiously organizing everything for them post-show. Ranch Jr. is not back in the office yet, so there is a little less fanfare around Brian and Darnell’s presence in the office today.
Cash is always sweet and grateful toward me, and I get the sense that he’s taking me under his wing. But I can’t tell if that is because I am a good worker or the only person in the office who collects music. Granted my James Gang Rides Again LP (thank you, eBay!) is in transit to me en ce moment, so it’s not like I am the most on-brand choice to be a part of Diggy’s merchandising entourage. But, uh, compared to Barry and Ms. Sher, I am the obvious choice.
My tags have printed. If you need me, I will be inserting bracelets into plastic poly bags for the NYC hip hop elite until I head to lunch.
***
5:07 p.m.
Annnnnnd we’re back.
Yes, ladies, Ms. Sher and Brian Leung are now friends.
If my life has taken a stranger turn, I’m unaware of it.
And here’s what happened:
Scène:
Cash: Charli, would you be a sport and let us know when Darnell’s and Brian’s separate memos are ready? Diggy gets his own as well, and they need them before they leave.
Moi: Yes, sure, but it will take me a moment; not all of the color ways are in the system yet.
Cash: No problemo, Charls, they are perfectly fine to wait in the executive dining room until you have it done.
Moi: I’m entering the styles as we speak.
Cash: I love that Ann Arbor can-do spirit, am I right? Thanks, Charls, you’re the best.
Brian Leung approaches our row, looking confused, Change tucked under his arm.
Brian: Yo, Cash, some Chinese lady just asked me in Cantonese if Darnell and I want lunch! I told her that’s whassup!
Cash: Brian, you know that you and Darnell are welcome to everything there is to offer here in the Simons Jewel Co. office! That’s Kwan! She’s amazing. She will make you a plate of the best cold cuts you have ever had! Sit…, relax! Charli is preparing everything for you and Darnell while you wait.
Ms. Sher: Excuuuuuuuuuuse me!
Everyone turns.
Ms. Sher: Lettt me seee that leeeetle dawggy! Who eeees theees?
Brian: Who me?
Ms. Sher: Yes, you handsome devil, come heeeerree to Ms. Sherrrrrr.
Brian sets Change on the floor, who runs over and jumps into Ms. Sher’s lap.
Ms. Sher: Now this is my leeetle boy. Who eees theees?
Brian: This is Change, yo!
Ms. Sher: Change, you are Ms. Sher’s leetle boy, she says stroking him, grinning widely, occasionally breaking into claps of joy.
Charli sits typing with her head down, minding her own business out of embarrassment, while cool-guy Brian penetrates the furthest depths of fine jewelry employee weirdo dorkdom.
Brian: Yo….. What is that magnifying glass? Is that 18K gold? With diamonds? And hands free?
Ms. Sher: Zees, I have had since before you were born.
deux mille six 