October 4th, 2005
On Friday, Toby Joe and I went to Enid’s for the one and only Brooklyn Loves NOLA benefit. Originally, we were just gonna pay our entrance/donation fee, have a drink, and then leave as we’re not much into big crowds and the place was packed. Instead, we had the most excellent evening, sharing drinks, and smiles, and laughs with some of the kindest people of Williamsburg.
I feel like I’m in Athens. This feels just like Athens.
I know! Isn’t it great? The bar reminds me very much like New Orleans as well. And everyone here is so pleasant and happy!
My friend, Matt, (who I met through ginar) helped put it all together. He’s also how I heard about it. They had a New Orleans style jazz band whose name I am unsure of. But what an ensemble! There were about 8 of them. There were horns, and trumpets, tambourines, tubas, things I can’t describe, and trombones! It was incredible. Plus, there was this most adorable girl whose job it was to SLAM two cymbols together, on the floor, in the air—she stole the show.
Toby Joe and I paid for the 2 Drink/All-You-Can-Eat special which came with two raffle tickets as well. I stuck a purple feather behind each of our right ears and we sipped our drinks, smiling from one ear to feather. I talked to Matt for a while and met his new(ish) boyfriend. I also gave out several free Bush T-Shirts which were a hit and all I had to do was lay them out on the table and people came to me. The whole evening was amazing.
And then the raffle came. And, well, I won. Here’s an early morning question for the Internet. Out of the five items below, which prize did I win?
- 1). Sexy Underpants
- 2). A bottle of wine
- 3). Hair Highlights at an uppity salon
- 4). An Eno Indie Rock ‘Goody Bag’.
- 5). 30 dollar Gift Certificate to Play Video Games at Barcade.
Indeed.
Events like the one we attended on Friday night restore any faith I lose in humanity while riding the MTA to and from work every day.
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July 19th, 2005
I got off the L Train at Bedford Avenue in hopes of sneaking a little Tasti D-lite softserve before meeting up with Toby Joe. There were grumpy people everywhere due to New York’s newfound wave with heat and humidity. And all I could think about was ice cream. Earlier, I had put half of what I owed down for the Bush T-shirts I’m having printed. The funds are going to be low this month, especially since I’m pretty sure I won’t sell nearly enough to cover the cost. But that’s okay, as I’d never done anything like that before. And I had wanted to print the shirts for over 2 years.
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December 28th, 2004
It seems that some kind of funk has snuck up on me. I’m not depressed, outwardly. And I don’t feel down, necessarily. But I do feel sort of “whatever”, endlessly. I feel like walking around answering questions like Napoleon Dynamite. A conversation might go like this:
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September 12th, 2004
This is our cat, Schmitty.
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September 1st, 2004
I made a video for Toby yesterday just to drive him more mad with the Muppet theme song.
I’m going to put this here instead because I’m tired of bitching and worrying. (Warning: Sound. The sound of my voice.)
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May 6th, 2004
Well, the movers come today. And they’re taking away all of our stuff. We have our parking spots blocked off using empty laundry containers. And I’m not kidding. I used an old ruler to tape the sign to a crate. Couple our ghetto reserve parking techniques with Toby’s seatless scooter and my Sony monitor, and we’ve named ourselves the trashiest couple on this gay block.
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September 9th, 2002
I’ve been known as a fruit from time to time. I’ll wonder about and toy with and tickle all the oddities life casually sneaks to us, those weird circumstantial roads one ends up going down where everything (once you’re there) seems almost too planned, as if it was or is meant to be. I can play with this idea. I do it every day. It keeps a bit of hope inside me. The me who, as of late, has been somewhat troubled. I’ll suspend all my cynicism just to take a gleeful glimpse into something that might appear horrific and confusing. I’ll do it just to avoid how ugly life is at times. And perhaps it’s all just a way to make nothing seem more attractive, to give nothing some meaning. And perhaps we make it up to make this life a little more enjoyable and “necessary”.
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June 4th, 2002
If you could leave right now and pick apples all day would you do it? Perhaps it’s the Pennsylvania in me, but I have this overwhelming want for dirt and grass and fireflies and fruit and bugs and water sounds and places to go where there is no man made sound. It all reminds me of youth. When I was a kid dusk used to spook me, it meant there was night to come, night surely meant sleep, sleep surely meant fear, fear meant frustration, forced to lay there till morning waiting for the sleepers to come to. At night the kids were called in one by one as soon as the sun set and the sound of big trucks took a near distant highway with loads they wished to deliver before daybreak. Later that night I would swear to you those same truck sounds were the moaning ghosts of dead kids. I slept with a light on. I bright one. All night long, glaringly bright, keeping the monsters away from me and my goldfish. I loved the getting up in the morning part. Sleep never really was all that settling for me, I wanted to spend all that wasted time making new things and collecting wooly bears in the front yard, pretending they were pets.
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May 10th, 2002
I think I could enjoy this more if someone would just say, “Hey, you know what? It’s all going to be alright. Stop worrying so much.” And if they did I probably wouldn’t believe them anyway. I want to take everyone I like and put them in my pocket and take them to the park. We can sit down on the grass, (where there is no such thing as the other side) and make pets out of clouds. We could sit there and blow big bubbles where the only hint of negativity is the distant sound of an airplane.
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