No really. It's time to start focusing: 20th century art and not curly-haired guys who do yoga and wear prayer beads :D
Friday the 13th started off in Lychee, a Thai restaurant in the lower East side with dollar beers, edamame and the company of my musically-enlightened friends Mando and Emily. It ended up in some 45th floor upper Manhattan apartment dancing all-out to Bhangra and LCD Soundsystem in front of a window revealing the most amazing view of New York I've yet to see.
While at some annoying fratty bar, we met some Wall Street guy who said he knew club owners etc. Let's just say at 'Nikki' the cover for males is $30, and the drinks are slightly cheaper. Tanned girls with poofs, painted-on dresses and guys not ashamed to stare at you from head to toe. Not really my cup of tea, BUT the tall mojitos being provided by our generous host minimized the complaints.
Saturday was a recovery day until nighttime when we made our way to Williamsburg for a night of Biggie, $4 Budlight in 40 oz styrofoam cups and eventually really fun dancing at Zavala's where I think I saw the girl from the XX.
I've also gone out with my library science roommate twice, which was very fun. She's from Seattle and wants to be a prison librarian-- I told her about Emma Goldman asking for a book while in solitary confinement, being given a Bible and chunking it back. I met other librarian wannabes and we talked about Dewey's infidelity and the dorky tattoos of book call numbers they want. She also took me to this place where I met a dredlocked bass player who told me some bullshit about being a genuine synaesthetic. We agreed the number 11 is blue and the word wombat is red.
2 comments:
fast times baby...:-)
my secret word is squiddu
as in
What the squiddu does he want again?!!?
oh barbara i want to see faces of these people you are meeting, until then my imagination will wander... :)
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