I have returned!
I shirked my blogging duty in Miami this time around because...well, because I was just too lazy to do it. I was on vacation after all. The weather wasn't the hottest and the Summit wasn't as cool this time around, but in terms of good times and relaxation, it was tops.
The trip started off "fun" as Farmer and I went out boozing the night before my 8:30 am flight. I, being me, had left most of the packing and stuff of that nature until the last minute, so I got to have a delightful mostly drunken allnighter session of getting my shit together before heading off to the airport with no sleep and general muddled idiocy. I discovered in my journey that AirTrain takes Metrocards...but not unlimited ones and now hate the confusing ass Atlanta airport that used up my 40 minute layover just trying to find out where the fuck I was supposed to be. The Miami hotel was kinda budget, but that pool and oceanview with a pretty decent sized room was totally fucking worth it. I dragged my exhausted ass across Miami Beach to a party featuring Prefuse and friends -- very heavy on the friends -- DJing and was that girl at the party barely fighting the urge to nod off in the corner. I finally gave myself a break and went back to my room after a while.
Every other day is a blur. I boozed, I danced, I laughed, I chilled with friends, walked around, chatted with randoms, had fun, and looked forward to summer in the city when I could wander around in my flips on my home turf. I really thought M3 was terrible this year. Too scattered, sound not so great, acts not so inspiring. The better performances: Jamie Lidell (though he said after the set to the dude standing next to Alafairnadia and I that he was rubbish, he was pretty stoked when we were like "you were awesome! We can't wait until your Southpaw show!"), Curumin, J'Davey (even if the chick's voice got on my nerves), Vitalic (yay techno!), She Wants Revenge (just on stage presence alone -- singer dude is totally the Prince and Robert Smith lovechild), Hypnotic Brass Ensemble, Bugz In Da Attic, and The National Trust. I missed a lot of acts I would've like to see because the presentation was just fucking boring for most of it and I would just wander off. Better luck next year. The most fun was random ass parties either in West Bumblefuck or with spring breaker randoms where the music was just fun to dance to and I did until my knees ached. Good times, even though the weather kinda sucked (75 with a breeze is not that hot really...I wanted to fry!), UPS is fucking incompetant (8 days for an overnight package...good job!), and Farmer, house- and kittysitting, kept calling me with things going wrong to stress me out.
The best part to me was coming home after all that to finally be done with my month of leisure and back to the working world. All Brooklyn, all the time for me now. Farmer's actually living with Ant and I for the moment, which is kinda amusing and surreal. We're cleaning together and making dinner and shit. It makes laugh because I think, "didn't I used to hate his guts? And now we're friends?! Weird..." Times change and kids grow up. Or something. Here's to a good spring regardless.
I think I'm pretty much relaxed to the point of near comatose. Except BSing around and going out a lot, I haven't done a flipping thing in the past 2 weeks and change of this vacation. I honestly haven't had this much (relatively) stress-free time off since I finally put the yearbook to rest and came back to town. It feels great and at least I something to remember fondly when I get chained to my new desk (in the good way) on the 29th.
I went out every night this week from Tuesday on and I was supposed to check out a show at Southpaw tonight, but ended up being too exhausted to do more than veg on the couch, watching the braindraining Sci-Fi channel doubleheader of Jason X and Freddy Vs. Jason, which might be two of the worst movies I, as a lover of bad movies, have ever seen. I had a fun weekend with my blog buddy David visiting from Chicago, wandering about town and corrupting him with my late night hijinks filled lifestyle. Amusingly enough, we left our computers to meet internet people in the most random places. He's so lucky that what happens in New York, stays in New York. Meanwhile, I realized this weekend that I'm on the same party circuit as all the acid freaks. That's a bit strange.
Now I've got two days to pack for Miami and get my place all clean and stuff for Farmer to half-kitty sit while I'm gone. It'll go down to the wire as usual knowing me.
Favorite thing said to me on the birthday: "Your music is really turning me on." Peaches is good mood music for a relapse.
That reminds me of an exchange I had a few weeks back. Dude was like, "so what kind of music do you listen to?" and my response was: "techno. And Man Man, and Prefuse 73. And The Sea and Cake. But mainly, techno." I'm not really sure where that answer came from.
The Kelley Polar show was fucking something. I've seen some spectacle heavy shows in my day, but it took the cake. It was like Ladyhawke the musical. Pretty fun and entertaining though. Dude was wearing armor strung through with Christmas lights that would alternate being lit and not. The kicker was the disco lights deal with the chest plate during the encore. Woo boy. The crowd was pretty much dumbfounded through most of it and after a certain post, most just gave up the gaping to chatter. It reminded that I don't really like the KF main stage as a venue. And if there was any justice in the world, that would've been an M3 performance. Drunk people at the Surfcomber's heads collectively exploding. Ah well. Always hope for next year. I appreciate songs like "Ashamed of Myself" that I barely gave half a listen to before a lot more now.
The birthday itself was pretty low-key and consisted of me watching soaps and lounging (like every other day last week) until sundown approached and I started to feel like an idiot for neglecting to line up any real plans for the day. Katebklyn and the boy came to the rescue and I went from drinks to more drinks and fun chatter to even more drinks and the whole day perked up. It was a nice day and I feel like I have a really good life. The night winded down a bit unexpectedly, but ultimately a lot of fun. The birthday party was overwhelming yet very chill. The DH posse represented in full force, Wes friends rolled through, PrincessNella, A, and Trendvickster had oldest friends bragging rights, The Director and girl came, my mom hung out with everyone, and I drank most of those lined up drinks and shots without a wince. I am a professional after all. It was a little hard to get up before noon and hit the shopping trial with PrincessNella the next day, but I survived. Saturday night wasn't the nice weekend cap like I would've hoped though. Between a homicidal cabbie, overly aggro dudes everywhere at my favorite party, and the boy holding me hostage with his emo shit (ugh...we just don't work!), I was really stressed and unable to even enjoy myself. Fucking sucked.
Less than 10 days until I go to Miami! Woo! I need to make some money and get my trip list together. And the strangest thing I've noticed lately: the more weight I lose, the younger I look. Weird.
Yeah.
I might be getting old, but I'm still cute. Happy adulthood (or some mess) to me.
I've apparently saved my birthday related freakout for the day before. I stumbled on some old pics when I was attempting to clean my room of some junk and was hit with this thought: "wow...that pic is from like 20 years ago. 20 fucking years! I'm conscious of shit I did 20 years ago! Goddamn, I'm fucking old."
It feels really funny to think of myself and my memories in terns of big old time blocks and stuff.
5 years ago, I was at Wes doing my spring semester sophomore year which would go on record as the best grades I ever got there.
10 years ago, I was in the 9th grade at Hunter, just finished up my first (and last) season of basketball, had a lot of upheaval in my home life.
15 years ago, I was in the tail end of 4th grade and I'm not sure if the episode where I rapped "Funky For You" to my whole class just before dismissal happened yet (yeah, it was that random).
20 years ago, I skipped pre-K that year and was kinda coasting until I started kindergarten, running around under my aunt and grandmother.
Part of me wants to do a down memory lane stroll tomorrow. Go back to all the places I grew up, my old schools, and stuff. Depends on how lazy I'm feeling. I've been trying to think if I'm where I imagined myself being at this age. I'm no world-famous writer or overly coupled or a world explorer, which were the only vague things I hoped that I as a grown-up would be like, but I think I grew up pretty damned cool just the same. The party Friday is gonna be ape. For every person who RSVPed, I added like another person to the guest list and invited damned near 60 people. If half of those come, I'll be more than satisfied. Yay for me and I'm looking forward to the next 25.
The "it's not like I have something else better to do" edition.
I might be the last person to jump on the YouTube bandwagon, but there's an 80s videos playlist. Oh hell fucking yeah! It's like VH1 Classic, but not having to leave the room to watch. Awesome!
There's something pretty damned cool about saying: Academy Award winners Three 6 Mafia! The performance itself was pretty much only interesting for the incredulity of seeing a choreographed pimps and hoes tableau and Taraji Henson (terrible dress aside) singing her ass off like "yeah, that's right. I'm singing the hook. Who cares if I may never make it to this stage again?!" Plus it's good to see some non-coached to the point of barely showing any emotion winners for a change.
Spin band of the day: Man Man!
Things are...interesting lately over on the nabe site. The two topics are pretty similar to me really with the whole junior Crimestopper, vaguely crusaderish "teach him a lesson!" strain going through them. Total powderkeg in my opinion.
6 days! Party to be held next Friday. I formally resigned yesterday and I'm basically still getting paid for a couple more weeks but outta there. I'm not going to complain! I now have a little under 4 weeks to BS around and thereotically clean the hell out of my place and watch soaps and hang with the cat and go to the gym and see all these random things I hear go on in my neighborhood when I was formerly in Manhattan. And also head to Miami on my $159 roundtrip airfare (how's that for special less than 3 weeks in advance?!) and get all the sun and fun I can before throwing myself into the new stuff. Great!
Thanks to everyone emailing and IMing me about you know what. Schadenfreude: tastes great and less filling! I never said I was a nice girl...especially when it comes to those I've advocated dismembering. Shit sinks to the bottom sooner or later, doesn't it?
I'm going to try to challenge myself and post more. Especially since I'm going to have a bit more time on my hands soon -- well, until I fall into the work pit that is. I don't have much to say really. Planning the party in the nabe (next Friday night: my house or the less annoying local? Dilemma!), trying to extract myself from the dead end situation with the boy (I just can't continue to be excited about someone who I feel isn't excited by me), going show announcement crazy (two Man Man shows! Kelley Polar! Sam Prekop & Archer Prewitt walking distance from my house!), decorating the home space. I have yet to buy my Miami tickets (to leave Wednesday or Thursday? Aurgh!) yet I'm so there mentally already. I've realized this week that I've never quit a job the right way, like with a resignation instead of "well, I'm leaving the town, so I guess I'm done" or qutting in a fit of pique. It's kinda frightening actually!
The weekend was fun! Man Man show #2,876,305 was a good time. Kate Ace Fu threatened/promised/proposed running around in hot pants and she brought back bad memories of the infamous trampled by a guy in a yeti suit night and I had to fill Alafairnadia in to the story. People have really fucking shitty show manners and I am a rager, so they generally heard it from me. Really, what's up with standing an inch in front of someone and not only blocking their vision but also invading their personal space? Sure, it's gonna be cramped and that's to be expected, but when you can't even lead with an "excuse me," you can eat shit and die and I'll tell you as much. I was heated! From there, we were off to Jay-V's birthday celebration and I kicked myself for not going to the ATM since the bar had a $50 minimum. Ugh. We made a Scenic pitstop and had no sign of the random of indeterminate origins. He joins the mythical ranks of boys seen only once (or twice) that inspire a bit of mental headslapping and wistfulness down the road.
(As an aside, there's one custom I'm still trying to get my head around as "real" adult: giving someone your card. I actually had a long involved convo with PrincessNella about this. I dont' have a card -- though I will soon I believe -- since I don't have any official business or whatever and/or am still stuck in the "well, let's trade numbers or email addys" mode and/or shy away from things like that since I'm a networking dumbass. Weeks back at a party, this dude gave me his card. Business card yet not 9-5 business and it had all his contact info if I wanted to get in touch I suppose. He's stupid cute and I'm thinking the odds of seeing him around again are pretty slim unless I grease the wheels a bit. But the retardation comes in because I don't know if I got the card on a "hey, contact me and we should get to know each other" thing or if passing out cards is just the thing to do when you meet people a la the new handshaking. I can't deal with cards. I'd rather someone call/email/My Space message me, but of course, I do understand that if they don't have a card with that info, how would they know how to contact you? Everyone can't be a computer junkie with a lot of time on their hands, photographic memory, and craftiness I guess. I'm fucking stuck, man, because I kinda do want to get in contact with him. Advice someone? Anyone?)
Saturday night, I wandered off to Nublu and did my typical holding up the wall thing. I really like the place, but something about it always makes me super inhibited, even when I'm having a good time. I dunno what it is. Saw Justin who apparently spotted me at the Man Man show, but didn't even say hi (I don't actually mind, I'm just amused at busting his chops about it). Sunday had me up early (for me) and going to gym before I'd even had breakfast, then cooking and rearranging my furniture and stuff to make my bedroom feel like less of a crypt. I tried to bribe the tallest guys I know (Farmer and the boy) with home-cooked dinner to help me change my lightbulb which has been out for embarassingly long by now, but no dice. I'll just keep ruining my eyes and squinting in the lamp light, guys. Nice to be loved.