(no subject)
Good evening, livejournalers.
I'm in good spirits despite this whole election nonsense. But that's probably because the 40 oz. that I consumed just before going to bed this morning is still working its way out of my system.
Nicole came to visit me in the early afternoon. We met up with DavidHart who is newly shorn. I believe he said that he had asked to get his locks cut in the style of Harry Potter. David's new do is fabulous. Nicole and I lunched. Then we accompanied David to Petco so he could buy food for his guinea pig Raj. The whole store smelled like animals, especially by the cash register area upstairs. I learned that guinea pigs have seizure-like spasms called "popcorning" that means they're happy.
I had a guinea pig from when I was seven until I was twelve. I named him Mr. Guinea Pig.
Mr. Guinea Pig never popcorned.
This realization makes me uncomfortable.
After staring at the small animals in the Petco enclosures, I left for work. Things in the office were uneventful. I was able to leave early so I could head over to Joe's Pub for the Vanessa Carlton concert.
At the venue I met up with Katia and Nicole. Inside I found Dan, and other nessaholics that I did not know personally. Later, I saw Toni and Dave-from-Rhode-Island. I enjoyed the concert very much. The opening act, the Low Millions, played a song that I really liked called Nikki. I was not feeling the lead singer's hair. It was slicked back. I am of the opinion that he needs a totally different hair cut. The powder blue jogging suit top he wore was not a good choice for him either. The color was all wrong for him. He looked better once he took it off.
My favorite song from the evening that Vanessa played was She Floats. I saw John Mayer sitting near the bar. He was looking pouty-lipped as usual. I saw Steven Jenkins outside Vanessa's tour bus. It was pleasant to gaze upon his sexiness.
Afterward, Nicole, Dan, Toni, Dave-from-Rhode-Island, and myself went in search of food and booze. We ended up dining at NoHo Star because it had food, booze, and Nicole could not walk much farther in her toe-pinching Steve Madden heels that I have been coveting like mad from the moment I first set eyes on them. Dave-from-Rhode-Island and I ordered a bottle of wine that Toni and Dan helped us finish. We toasted the election. Dave-from-Rhode-Island shared a lovely story about a unique one-week relationship he once had.
After dinner the group split up. Dan offered to take Nicole home to CT because she had a headache and hurting feet. Toni opted to return to her apartment because she had an 8am class the following morning. Dave-from-Rhode-Island indicated that he still wished to search Greenwich Village for some kitchenware. I offered to escort Dave to the proper locale for such purchases. We bid adieu to Toni who went off to take the longest subway ride imaginable to get back to her home. The rest of us walked to Dan's car so we could make a quick stop at my dorm, before Dave-from-Rhode-Island and I were dropped off on St. Mark's Place. All the shops on St. Mark's Place were closed - even Religious Sex.
We then went searching elsewhere. We passed a New School University dormitory. Dave remarked that he'd like to see someone found an Old School University.
At a cigar shop, we happened upon some glassware that Dave found suitable to his needs. Dave made his purchase, which prompted a homeless man from outside to approach us and try to sell us "Louis Vuitton" wallets. The homeless man continued to try to sell us merchandise as Dave asked the shopkeeper if they sold accessories. The shopkeeper said that they did not. Hearing this, the homeless man said he knew where Dave could find what we was looking for. The shopkeeper, alarmed that he was about to lose business, suddenly offered Dave the very thing that he was seeking. Dave bought the accessory and then voiced his lack of familiarity with its use. The homeless man was again very eager to assist Dave. The homeless man, who was a self-proclaimed alcoholic and pothead, began to show David how to work the new do-dad that he had just bought. The man licked the accessory, mashed it between his unclean fingers, poked at it with a plastic rod he had on his person, and at one point accidentally let it fall to the sidewalk whereupon he picked it up and put it back where it had been. The whole time this was happening the shopkeepers were making faces and I was trying not to grimace. While Dave politely watched the end of the homeless man's demonstration, I slipped away and asked the shopkeeper for more do-dads. The shopkeeper looked puzzled and I explained that I do not like germs. The shopkeeper immediately understood that I was displeased that the homeless man left traces of himself all over Dave's purchases. When I rejoined Dave and the homeless man, Dave was thanking the man for his help and offering him some cash so he could go get a beer for himself. The homeless man said, "Beer? I don't drink beer! I'm a vodkaholic!"
Our mission having been accomplished, Dave and I went looking for a bar with good drink specials. We went by Finnerty's but Dave said it was too full inside. We ended up at Bar None. We finished off a pitcher of beer and watched the televised election result projections. Dave showed me his tattoo. Just before we left the bar I visited the ladies room. When I returned I found Dave and the bartender exchanging looks. After Dave and I exited the bar, he explained to me that the country song that was playing over the juke box was terribly racist; a second before I had rejoined him at the bar Dave thought he heard the country artist sing out, "...I was workin' hard like a n***** in a cotton field..." He had turned to look at the bar tender and had said, "Did I just hear what I think I heard?" and the bartender nodded his head. Dave and I were scandalized by the song.
We next ventured over to the West Village. I was searching for Down the Hatch. We ended up at Off the Wagon instead. We ordered ourselves a pitcher of beer and discussed Dave's love karma. We watched as electoral college votes were being tabulated on TV and booed the red states.
Dave spied two people playing each other at beer pong and suggested we challenge them. Dave assured me he is a skilled beer pong player. He wasn't kidding. We beat Samantha and Wallace (who also goes by the name of Steve)in three straight games. Steve is from Birmingham, England. When I had first exclaimed to him, "Like Ozzy?!" Wallace thought I said, "Aussie" and proceeded to tell me about how he and Samantha met in Australia. Wallace can do a great Australian accent, but his American accent is awful. He said "yeah, man" a lot. That's not how we talk! That's like me saying "Cheerio, gov'nah!" a bunch of times in a British accent. Hah. My manner of psyching out our opponents was by referencing British history a lot whenever it was Wallace's turn to toss the ping pong ball.
Samantha taught me that if you put a lighter under a dented ping pong ball, it will make the dent disappear. At closing time there was an exchange of AIM names that I hazily recall. I left the bar without retrieving my check card! We were half way down the block when I remembered my card. I ran back for it. When I caught up with David he had just finished giving his jingly pocket change away to a homeless fellow (not the same one from earlier.) David was also chatting with Samantha and Wallace. Samantha was very nice and invited us up to her apartment which was just down the street from Off the Wagon. Samantha and Wallace's apartment is located on the top floor of a walk-up. She apologized that it was a walk-up, but I assured her that I was cool with walk-ups because they tone the derriere.
Upstairs, we were greeted by Zachary, Samantha's dog. Samantha drunkenly fell into her wine rack. A few bottles fell to the floor, but nothing broke. Dave and I accompanied Samantha up to roof of the building. Samantha fell over again, and this time Zachary growled at Dave and I as if we had pushed her over. Samantha pointed to a Sushi place across the street and told us it was better than some other NoHo sushi place. She also advised us when the best days to eat there would be. I vaguely recall Sunday and Monday being the days to avoid the sushi place because the fish isn't as fresh. Dave and I dislike fish, so the sushi info really wasn't very useful to us. From the roof we spotted a gigantic Paris Hilton who graced the side of a tall building on Houston St.
The four of us (I'm counting Zachary) went back down to the apartment. Dave and I said our goodbyes and left. Dave wanted food so we stopped by Ben's Pizza. I insisted that I wasn't hungry at all, but Dave ordered me a slice anyway. I don't remember eating my slice, but Dave insisted I ate it quickly, therefore proving that I was indeed hungry after all.
We proceeded northward, trying to make our way back to my dorm room. We stopped briefly to buy a 40oz. As we were passing Weinstein, an NYU freshman dorm, I noticed a young man with his head down, wearing a hood, his hands in his pockets, walking in the opposite direction. Further down the block someone was by a car, and someone else was just crossing the street. Both Dave and I noticed when this young man turned around in front of Weinstein and started to walk in the same direction as the two of us, as if he were following us. As Dave and I were getting to the end of the block, where it was pretty abandoned and dark, he said, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" "Yes," I said. Dave gestured at the 40oz. and said we could use it as a weapon. We turned right at the end of the block. There was no one around on that street but I knew that the NYU Cantor Film Center was there. Dave and I stopped for a moment as I peered through the glass doors in search of a guard. I did not see one, and I noticed that the hooded man had accelerated his pace. Dave and I started walking again, more briskly this time. We took another right because I knew that the NYU security office was just two blocks away. We started to sprint and I didn't look back. When we got to the office of security I requested a security van take Dave and I back to my dorm. (That service is available to us after 2am.) As we waited for the van to come, Dave and I told the security officer on duty about our encounter with the hooded man. I acted out our ordeal for the security officer. Dave mentioned that the hooded man's top was green. There were over 20 walkie-talkies out on the counter in front of the security officer. I counted them as Dave and I waited for the van. I also busied myself by reading a pamphlet about safety awareness for men. The van finally arrived and we boarded it. It took us to my dorm where I signed in Dave as my guest. I told the guard at the front desk that Dave was Tommy Mottola's cousin! Haha.
Once up in my dorm room, I got to inflate the new queen-sized Aerobed for Dave that my roommate and I bought a week prior for the express purpose of hosting our guests. The inflating process was actually quite loud. I heard one of my suitemates get up out of bed to close her bedroom door. Fortunately, I didn't have to worry about disturbing my roommate because she had gone home to Long Island to vote earlier that evening. Just as Dave was getting settled on the Aerobed, the sun came out. It was officially morning. Where did all the time go? I think it was all used up waiting for that security van. Not too long after that my roommate appeared. She had returned early from Long Island, and if I'm not mistaken she was in her PJs when she walked through the front door.
Dave and I finally fell asleep after discussing the hooded man a bit, as well as Samantha, Wallace, Zachary, and the homeless man outside of the cigar shop. Just as we were drifting off Sharlene, my roommate, informed us that things weren't looking good for Kerry/Edwards. This news was most unpleasant.
And that was the end of my Election Day adventure. Yes, I voted. I vote every year. :)
I went to the polls back home in CT early Tuesday morning. This was before taking the train into the city and getting back to my dorm so I could welcome Nicole when she came to visit me.
Goodnight livejournal land. My body clock is officially messed up by my crazy sleeping hours.
I'm in good spirits despite this whole election nonsense. But that's probably because the 40 oz. that I consumed just before going to bed this morning is still working its way out of my system.
Nicole came to visit me in the early afternoon. We met up with DavidHart who is newly shorn. I believe he said that he had asked to get his locks cut in the style of Harry Potter. David's new do is fabulous. Nicole and I lunched. Then we accompanied David to Petco so he could buy food for his guinea pig Raj. The whole store smelled like animals, especially by the cash register area upstairs. I learned that guinea pigs have seizure-like spasms called "popcorning" that means they're happy.
I had a guinea pig from when I was seven until I was twelve. I named him Mr. Guinea Pig.
Mr. Guinea Pig never popcorned.
This realization makes me uncomfortable.
After staring at the small animals in the Petco enclosures, I left for work. Things in the office were uneventful. I was able to leave early so I could head over to Joe's Pub for the Vanessa Carlton concert.
At the venue I met up with Katia and Nicole. Inside I found Dan, and other nessaholics that I did not know personally. Later, I saw Toni and Dave-from-Rhode-Island. I enjoyed the concert very much. The opening act, the Low Millions, played a song that I really liked called Nikki. I was not feeling the lead singer's hair. It was slicked back. I am of the opinion that he needs a totally different hair cut. The powder blue jogging suit top he wore was not a good choice for him either. The color was all wrong for him. He looked better once he took it off.
My favorite song from the evening that Vanessa played was She Floats. I saw John Mayer sitting near the bar. He was looking pouty-lipped as usual. I saw Steven Jenkins outside Vanessa's tour bus. It was pleasant to gaze upon his sexiness.
Afterward, Nicole, Dan, Toni, Dave-from-Rhode-Island, and myself went in search of food and booze. We ended up dining at NoHo Star because it had food, booze, and Nicole could not walk much farther in her toe-pinching Steve Madden heels that I have been coveting like mad from the moment I first set eyes on them. Dave-from-Rhode-Island and I ordered a bottle of wine that Toni and Dan helped us finish. We toasted the election. Dave-from-Rhode-Island shared a lovely story about a unique one-week relationship he once had.
After dinner the group split up. Dan offered to take Nicole home to CT because she had a headache and hurting feet. Toni opted to return to her apartment because she had an 8am class the following morning. Dave-from-Rhode-Island indicated that he still wished to search Greenwich Village for some kitchenware. I offered to escort Dave to the proper locale for such purchases. We bid adieu to Toni who went off to take the longest subway ride imaginable to get back to her home. The rest of us walked to Dan's car so we could make a quick stop at my dorm, before Dave-from-Rhode-Island and I were dropped off on St. Mark's Place. All the shops on St. Mark's Place were closed - even Religious Sex.
We then went searching elsewhere. We passed a New School University dormitory. Dave remarked that he'd like to see someone found an Old School University.
At a cigar shop, we happened upon some glassware that Dave found suitable to his needs. Dave made his purchase, which prompted a homeless man from outside to approach us and try to sell us "Louis Vuitton" wallets. The homeless man continued to try to sell us merchandise as Dave asked the shopkeeper if they sold accessories. The shopkeeper said that they did not. Hearing this, the homeless man said he knew where Dave could find what we was looking for. The shopkeeper, alarmed that he was about to lose business, suddenly offered Dave the very thing that he was seeking. Dave bought the accessory and then voiced his lack of familiarity with its use. The homeless man was again very eager to assist Dave. The homeless man, who was a self-proclaimed alcoholic and pothead, began to show David how to work the new do-dad that he had just bought. The man licked the accessory, mashed it between his unclean fingers, poked at it with a plastic rod he had on his person, and at one point accidentally let it fall to the sidewalk whereupon he picked it up and put it back where it had been. The whole time this was happening the shopkeepers were making faces and I was trying not to grimace. While Dave politely watched the end of the homeless man's demonstration, I slipped away and asked the shopkeeper for more do-dads. The shopkeeper looked puzzled and I explained that I do not like germs. The shopkeeper immediately understood that I was displeased that the homeless man left traces of himself all over Dave's purchases. When I rejoined Dave and the homeless man, Dave was thanking the man for his help and offering him some cash so he could go get a beer for himself. The homeless man said, "Beer? I don't drink beer! I'm a vodkaholic!"
Our mission having been accomplished, Dave and I went looking for a bar with good drink specials. We went by Finnerty's but Dave said it was too full inside. We ended up at Bar None. We finished off a pitcher of beer and watched the televised election result projections. Dave showed me his tattoo. Just before we left the bar I visited the ladies room. When I returned I found Dave and the bartender exchanging looks. After Dave and I exited the bar, he explained to me that the country song that was playing over the juke box was terribly racist; a second before I had rejoined him at the bar Dave thought he heard the country artist sing out, "...I was workin' hard like a n***** in a cotton field..." He had turned to look at the bar tender and had said, "Did I just hear what I think I heard?" and the bartender nodded his head. Dave and I were scandalized by the song.
We next ventured over to the West Village. I was searching for Down the Hatch. We ended up at Off the Wagon instead. We ordered ourselves a pitcher of beer and discussed Dave's love karma. We watched as electoral college votes were being tabulated on TV and booed the red states.
Dave spied two people playing each other at beer pong and suggested we challenge them. Dave assured me he is a skilled beer pong player. He wasn't kidding. We beat Samantha and Wallace (who also goes by the name of Steve)in three straight games. Steve is from Birmingham, England. When I had first exclaimed to him, "Like Ozzy?!" Wallace thought I said, "Aussie" and proceeded to tell me about how he and Samantha met in Australia. Wallace can do a great Australian accent, but his American accent is awful. He said "yeah, man" a lot. That's not how we talk! That's like me saying "Cheerio, gov'nah!" a bunch of times in a British accent. Hah. My manner of psyching out our opponents was by referencing British history a lot whenever it was Wallace's turn to toss the ping pong ball.
Samantha taught me that if you put a lighter under a dented ping pong ball, it will make the dent disappear. At closing time there was an exchange of AIM names that I hazily recall. I left the bar without retrieving my check card! We were half way down the block when I remembered my card. I ran back for it. When I caught up with David he had just finished giving his jingly pocket change away to a homeless fellow (not the same one from earlier.) David was also chatting with Samantha and Wallace. Samantha was very nice and invited us up to her apartment which was just down the street from Off the Wagon. Samantha and Wallace's apartment is located on the top floor of a walk-up. She apologized that it was a walk-up, but I assured her that I was cool with walk-ups because they tone the derriere.
Upstairs, we were greeted by Zachary, Samantha's dog. Samantha drunkenly fell into her wine rack. A few bottles fell to the floor, but nothing broke. Dave and I accompanied Samantha up to roof of the building. Samantha fell over again, and this time Zachary growled at Dave and I as if we had pushed her over. Samantha pointed to a Sushi place across the street and told us it was better than some other NoHo sushi place. She also advised us when the best days to eat there would be. I vaguely recall Sunday and Monday being the days to avoid the sushi place because the fish isn't as fresh. Dave and I dislike fish, so the sushi info really wasn't very useful to us. From the roof we spotted a gigantic Paris Hilton who graced the side of a tall building on Houston St.
The four of us (I'm counting Zachary) went back down to the apartment. Dave and I said our goodbyes and left. Dave wanted food so we stopped by Ben's Pizza. I insisted that I wasn't hungry at all, but Dave ordered me a slice anyway. I don't remember eating my slice, but Dave insisted I ate it quickly, therefore proving that I was indeed hungry after all.
We proceeded northward, trying to make our way back to my dorm room. We stopped briefly to buy a 40oz. As we were passing Weinstein, an NYU freshman dorm, I noticed a young man with his head down, wearing a hood, his hands in his pockets, walking in the opposite direction. Further down the block someone was by a car, and someone else was just crossing the street. Both Dave and I noticed when this young man turned around in front of Weinstein and started to walk in the same direction as the two of us, as if he were following us. As Dave and I were getting to the end of the block, where it was pretty abandoned and dark, he said, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" "Yes," I said. Dave gestured at the 40oz. and said we could use it as a weapon. We turned right at the end of the block. There was no one around on that street but I knew that the NYU Cantor Film Center was there. Dave and I stopped for a moment as I peered through the glass doors in search of a guard. I did not see one, and I noticed that the hooded man had accelerated his pace. Dave and I started walking again, more briskly this time. We took another right because I knew that the NYU security office was just two blocks away. We started to sprint and I didn't look back. When we got to the office of security I requested a security van take Dave and I back to my dorm. (That service is available to us after 2am.) As we waited for the van to come, Dave and I told the security officer on duty about our encounter with the hooded man. I acted out our ordeal for the security officer. Dave mentioned that the hooded man's top was green. There were over 20 walkie-talkies out on the counter in front of the security officer. I counted them as Dave and I waited for the van. I also busied myself by reading a pamphlet about safety awareness for men. The van finally arrived and we boarded it. It took us to my dorm where I signed in Dave as my guest. I told the guard at the front desk that Dave was Tommy Mottola's cousin! Haha.
Once up in my dorm room, I got to inflate the new queen-sized Aerobed for Dave that my roommate and I bought a week prior for the express purpose of hosting our guests. The inflating process was actually quite loud. I heard one of my suitemates get up out of bed to close her bedroom door. Fortunately, I didn't have to worry about disturbing my roommate because she had gone home to Long Island to vote earlier that evening. Just as Dave was getting settled on the Aerobed, the sun came out. It was officially morning. Where did all the time go? I think it was all used up waiting for that security van. Not too long after that my roommate appeared. She had returned early from Long Island, and if I'm not mistaken she was in her PJs when she walked through the front door.
Dave and I finally fell asleep after discussing the hooded man a bit, as well as Samantha, Wallace, Zachary, and the homeless man outside of the cigar shop. Just as we were drifting off Sharlene, my roommate, informed us that things weren't looking good for Kerry/Edwards. This news was most unpleasant.
And that was the end of my Election Day adventure. Yes, I voted. I vote every year. :)
I went to the polls back home in CT early Tuesday morning. This was before taking the train into the city and getting back to my dorm so I could welcome Nicole when she came to visit me.
Goodnight livejournal land. My body clock is officially messed up by my crazy sleeping hours.