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thought i was a donut, ya tried to glaze me

1.06.2006

A Wednesday That Was Wacky for All Different Reasons

After last week's complete tease of a WW, Catherine suggested we got see Whole In One play at the Knitting Factory instead. I agreed, and so did a lot of other people, but they soon backed out when we realized the band was going on not at 10:30, but 7:15. Yikes. That...that means leaving at like, 5:30 instead of 8; which means asses in gear, stat,which no one likes to do (me included). I sucked it up, though, and met Catherine in front of the stores by 5:30; after being really disappointed that our fine workplace, Deirdre Maeve's, doesn't sell 40's (something I knew but never thought of until I needed them, and something we should really, really look into), I bought mini bottles of absolut for my seltzer and for my diet pepsi and Carolyn Cryan and Amanda Ryan soon showed up and Mrs. Cryan drove us to Sheepshead Bay, where our journey began. I remembered the last time I Was with Carolyn at this train station--the summer,open bar somewhere we couldn't remember, and a lot of drunk, sunburned people.


We got out on Canal at 7, right on time, but we got lost for a while, which was embarrassing, because I hate looking like a tourist. Hate it, can't stand it, will go to great lengths to avoid it. When I got to restaurants and the waiters ask me where I'm from, in that condescending, fake-caring tone they reserve for wide-eyed week long visitors from Wisconsin,I usually defensively reply with something like "Here, well, Queens, Rockaway, but whatever, it's still the city and I've lived here forever and it's New York so...yes. That's where I'm from." I will literally walk around in circles before stopping for help,as long as I walk around those circles very fast, very confident, very unfazed by my surroundings, while still occasionallyrolling my eyes at the tourists buying fake bags (albeit making a mental note of where on Canal they were actually sellingthose Louis's because shiiiit, they looked mad real.)


But we made it--in time to see Whole In One play 3 songs. They did a good job, a better job than the band after them,straight outta SI, which I I'm pretty sure had their last gig at a high school dance or something. Seriously, while they sounded decent,the lead singer's overwhelmingly cornball presence overrided everything. He blew fake fairydust (yes, seriously, fake fairydust) at the audience and pretty much had a full conversation with one of his "buddies" in the front; he also seemed to watchtoo much Fuse, proven by his horribly forced stage antics and occasional jumping on the bass drum. The only rock and roll thing about him was his black eye, but he probably just got that for mad wack. HE also threw poland spring caps in the audience, flicked them actually, almost hitting me in the face and I was very tempted to throw my can of PBR at him.

Their band name was Oedipus and the Mamas Boys, which Catherine informed me was the fake band from PCU. Way to be original,you 17 year olds.

The band after, though, SGT, were awesome and I bought their CD and listened to it all day today.

Lourds played after them but...yea. I was scared, so we left.

We went to Josie Wood's pub, where I remembered being before, many years ago with Clare. We were all pretty drunk, and it was dark, so in our heads it felt like 1 am; really, it was 9:15. The bar was filled with lots of old people dressed in running clothes,and as I ate some of their buffalo wings I learned they were having a private party. Oops--sorry I stole some of your wings.

The Texas vs USC game was on and lots of people wre excited about it, but none of us were. Catherine was wearing an orange coat and some kid came up to her all excited and wasl ike, "GO TEXAS. YOU'RE WEARING OUR BURNT ORANGE. HOOK 'EM HORNS" but we were just confused and uncomfortable by all this college football hoopla. I think I actually told the kid no one cared about Texas, "we're in NY, you idiot", just to get him away from us, and it worked, because he told me reallyangrily "FUCK YOU" and walked away.

It's not that I don't like college athletics-- it's just college football has never been a big thing in my house, because there are no really big local football teams. I mean, Syracuse is far, Hofstra is..Hofstra, and I think Columbia might have a semi-decent football team, but I don't follow Ivy League athletics--there's something weird about it. I like to perpetuate the stereotype that most athletes are, at the most, of average intelligence, and at the least, borderline retarded; I don't like thinking that they can hack it in the Ivy system. My dad went to St. John's (where, duh, I go now), where we had a lower division level football team that was cut, and where we used to, kinda sorta, back in the day, remember that? have a reputable basketball team. My mom went to BC...no, not that BC, Brooklyn College; a school whose mascot is the Bridges. Yes, the Brooklyn Bridges-- clever, really, but not about to get asked to the Fiesta Bowl. I grew up watching St. John's basketball, and I'm still a fan, and I believe whole-heartedly that with the guidance of the always confident, always handsome Norm Roberts,and with a win for the Holiday Bowl and the support of the school and even the dedication of Lou Carnessecca (who I sat behind at a game once and was actually making fun of all the gushing fans who came up to him to hand him letters telling him how much he meant to them,and I respected him more for it) we will actually be back on top. Just, with that loss to Marist, probably not anytime soon.


So yea-- I was talking about the bar, right? Long story short-- we got pitchers, we got food, we got the hell outta there and headed back on the train where we got off at the junction and waited so long for the Q35 our transfers expired.

Seriously, does that bus run on like a 6 hour schedule? Is it a fucking Greyhound bus--miss the 10:30 one, you gottawait for the 4:30? And what was with the rude-ass bus driver, who not-so-kindly informed me that "YOUR CARD ISN'T VALID" and when I was like, me? he meanly added "YES YOU", without looking me in the eye and being really scary and I got off and wanted to throw something at him. Asshole.

Danny Grady saved the day though! Yes, thank God. He came to get us, saving us from our rainy hour at the junction,where we were strong enough to fight off temptation from the 24-hour White Castle around the corner. Thank God for Danny Grady.

Today:
Went to Spumoni Gardens with CG, Candace, and Alana. The food was awesome and so was the company, even though I took the scenic route to get there and back. There was a time where I was all, wah wah wah, I miss high school, and I still get nostalgic sometimes; but I'm glad I'm still in contact with the favorite parts of my high school experience. I'm glad I can still call these people up (sometimes a lot, since they don't always pick up their phones, {alana}) and chill and eat lots of food and just feel really comfortable with them. It's a gift not everyone has.

TV

Gilmore Girls is FINALLY new next week.

Gauntlet--Jisela, you are a punk ass, maybe even more so than Cameran, because you hid your punk-assness.


True Life: I'm Moving to New York City
The only cool people on this were Frankie and Dana. They were hardworking people who came to New York looking for a better life, and did it without their parent's paying for a nearly $4,000 a month apartment in the Village. Theylived in Bushwick, they saved their money, they worked two jobs, they were just happy to be here. I hopethey have a great life. That idiot model from Wisconsin, while at times amusing, was getting on my nerves. He lacked ambition, drive, professionalism, brain cells, and wasn't even that good looking. That photographer was right--he's too cocky, but he's not sure if he can back it up. Have fun backin Washau, man. And Julie--shit. I wanted to slap that spoiled bitch and her overly-tanned stomach. IF you want to save money, here are some hints: Avoid cabs as much as possible. Avoid bars/clubs/lounges with clever one-word names. Drink more when your'e in your apartment, so you can avoid having to drink so many of those $12 vodka tonics. And stop being so fucking spoiled, you fucking bitch.

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I wonder if my writing has even improved?