adventures of the perpetually cool
This weekend involved a certain flavor of excess- easy to find in NYC...
Friday I took my first trip to the NY Public Library (woooo, slow down, crazy grrrl!). The big one. The friggin' architecture is amazing, and of course I'm not the only one to think so. Tourist were snapping pictures as I tried to excavate Cassandra from NYPL's bowels. Nice. I didn't get that far, as the library closes at 6 and the fuckers turn the lights out on you at 20 'til. Expelled like Eve. A flimsy umbrella in hand, I wandered Times Square in the near freezing rain listening to an iPod mix named "urban ghost" and thought grand thoughts like, "I live in New York." Craving Thai food, all I could find was Italian. And Starbucks. I exchanged my umbrella for a latte and took the train home. Stopped at the grocery store for Thai ingredients, but by the time I got home I just wanted pizza and beer. Ahh, fickle female.
Saturday: more library. Ran into several classmates and went with one to the Met after they uncerimoniously but predictably kicked us out of the NYPL. Great art. Photos and modern paintings and a killer show by a South African artist whose name escapes me. Last name starts with a K. (I'm so good, I know.) Met up with morgan78 at Raven on the Lower East Side. She and my classmate met, ever so briefly, the illustrious PM. Sans pink mohawk. But whatever, he's perpetually cool. PM and I departed for a Gold Chains show (electro- don't ask me what that is) and we danced and made fun of other people, our usual. Then he got ILL and we went back to my place where I fed toast to his collapsed-on-the-kitchen-floor-body. Toast. I think toast is the life source from which we should all return should our stomachs rise up to kill us.
Sunday Sunday! Football, of course. Met two more of PM's friends; I talked smack and lost at every video game we played. But whatever, I'm perpetually cool too.
Today I rode with him to work for a few hours. Saw Julianne Moore and her dipshit director husband. I really hope he went to school for something besides film. When PM wasn't popping veins and seething pure rage we made fun of the undeserving famous and the unfortunately dressed pleebs. Because we are -that's right- perpetually cool.
Friday I took my first trip to the NY Public Library (woooo, slow down, crazy grrrl!). The big one. The friggin' architecture is amazing, and of course I'm not the only one to think so. Tourist were snapping pictures as I tried to excavate Cassandra from NYPL's bowels. Nice. I didn't get that far, as the library closes at 6 and the fuckers turn the lights out on you at 20 'til. Expelled like Eve. A flimsy umbrella in hand, I wandered Times Square in the near freezing rain listening to an iPod mix named "urban ghost" and thought grand thoughts like, "I live in New York." Craving Thai food, all I could find was Italian. And Starbucks. I exchanged my umbrella for a latte and took the train home. Stopped at the grocery store for Thai ingredients, but by the time I got home I just wanted pizza and beer. Ahh, fickle female.
Saturday: more library. Ran into several classmates and went with one to the Met after they uncerimoniously but predictably kicked us out of the NYPL. Great art. Photos and modern paintings and a killer show by a South African artist whose name escapes me. Last name starts with a K. (I'm so good, I know.) Met up with morgan78 at Raven on the Lower East Side. She and my classmate met, ever so briefly, the illustrious PM. Sans pink mohawk. But whatever, he's perpetually cool. PM and I departed for a Gold Chains show (electro- don't ask me what that is) and we danced and made fun of other people, our usual. Then he got ILL and we went back to my place where I fed toast to his collapsed-on-the-kitchen-floor-body. Toast. I think toast is the life source from which we should all return should our stomachs rise up to kill us.
Sunday Sunday! Football, of course. Met two more of PM's friends; I talked smack and lost at every video game we played. But whatever, I'm perpetually cool too.
Today I rode with him to work for a few hours. Saw Julianne Moore and her dipshit director husband. I really hope he went to school for something besides film. When PM wasn't popping veins and seething pure rage we made fun of the undeserving famous and the unfortunately dressed pleebs. Because we are -that's right- perpetually cool.