Kitty Power

Plus One

Work is almost enjoyable when you know it's a short week. Wait...who am I kidding? No, it's not. During a day of being chained to my desk and staring at the cubicle walls, I made some afterwork plans to head down to the Virgin Megastore Union Square and then a little party for some soon to be cancelled show. I had the hardest fucking time trying to find someone to be in my entourage. My people have no vision!

At Virgin Mega was an indie hip-hop panel, distinguished most for me by the ranter who closed out proceedings by calling the panelists out, asking if they were invested in really bringing a DIY creative ethic "back" to hip-hop or were they like the draconian majors in disguise trying to tie artists to shit contracts for maximum money making. I wish I would've seen the actual panel because all I heard was the Q&A portion which doubled as "how can I be like y'all?"/"how do I go about getting y'all to help me?" blah blah way too much bubbly self-promotion cakes. I stuck around mostly for the RJD2 set and salivated over the latest Black Book. Mmm...Brody. My friend in LA had just reported a sighting in Target the other week and said he was even skinnier than you can possibly imagine. That's alright. I'll take that and force feed him some Southern cooking.

Then slightly uptown to meet TrendVickster at the party place. Standing in line, I spotted Abe -- though not especially surprising since I found out about it via him more or less anyways. I'd never been there before so I was a little intrigued by the space, or at least the little part we got to see. The DJ was actually okay (but some of those transitions: eek!) and I mentioned to Abe that I was a little afraid of him playing Keith Sweat because hearing a song I haven't heard in a while in a club usually signals that it's about to be put on the "50 Songs We Rotate To Death And Make You Start To Hate" list in no time. [And in a total aside, a major part of my weekend was shopping and I got sucked into H&M. Fuck that store is ingenious. 2 per block and different in every store. But, it's totally sad that I hear better (being a subjective word since they're on some Euro pop shit) music while strolling around in there than I do on the radio. They need a compilation CD because being that I bought Old Navy Soul years ago through subliminal marketing, I'd be all over that shit.] The crowd was hipish freebie seekers (a.k.a. my people) and I learned to hate the show before it even came on by seeing the same two promos on repeat for 2 hours +. The best parts were the free booze (you know, because I'm an alcoholic) and the goodie bags (which included a watch, mini bottle of booze, shaving kit, and other stuff). The show is indeed terrible, but I've gotta love the "get 'em so drunk they'll watch anything -- or not" event planning method. So fun. Special shouts to Neil for making it all possible.

On the 10-mile walk to our trains, TrendVickster and I took a shortcut through Penn Station. I was shit amused to see one of my co-workers walking -- but really, drunkenly stumbling -- towards us. "Hey there," I said with a nice big smile. "Hey," he responded, cautiously all "shit...gotta..keep...it... together." We made some small talk before he went on his imbalanced way and I laughed and laughed. Stumbling...that's for amateurs. Says the dummy who is cruising for a drunken fall soon. Karma's a bitch.

Posted by Candicissima at July 7, 2004 01:27 PM