I'm not a big one for ritual, but since the smoking ban helped me to (practically) quit smoking, I've taken to having one cigarette at the end of my shift. Yes, the government legislated me right out of a habit, I admit it. But that one cigarette, paired with delicious bourbon, still rules.
A and I needed to go to NY for some shopping, so we decided to go spend the night with our friend K in the process. K has a nice, big apartment in the village that she has to give up at the end of the month, so we wanted to take advantage. Here's the things that should usually happen on such a road trip:
1. wake up early.
2. find the money you've been putting away, and take alot of it.
3. say goodbye to roommate's gun-loving dog.
4. check to make sure driving conditions will be optimal.
5. hire a taxi to take you 2 miles out of your way, thus nullifying the point of cabbing instead of metroing. tip cabbie $1 instead of usual $5. realize it doesn't matter either way.
6. pick up rental car. when woman at counter says, "chevy monte carlo okay?" say "no." unless you want to drive around a big, unweildy family sedan in a snowy, icy new york city for two days. in that case, say "yes."
7. get lost in your own city on way out of town. waste 20 minutes.
8. drive half-asleep in white-out conditions. only kind of crash once.
9. have passenger take picture of otherwise uninteresting semi while passing at 60mph.
10. miraculously arrive at tunnel to manhattan within 5 hours of leaving. make sure car is completely encased in mixture of snow, salt, and nearly opaque film. also make sure car has no wiper fluid. this is key.
11. park. pay $20 because parking on the street in NY is scary, impossible and the tickets are big. they tow their cars to canada, and make you drive there to pick them up. if you don't have a second car, you're just out of luck. so pay $20. proceed to nearest place with something warm and a bathroom. pay for the warm thing and use the bathroom. bonus: the warm thing is delicious.
12. take picture of gritty, urban street art.
13. take picture of gritty, urban street art made by affluent DC-area teen.
14. shop for an hour, until extremities begin to separate from limbs. join friend for dinner in heated establishment.
15. go to bar. drink delicious domestic beer.
16. go to second bar. look for some semblance of a hop in any beer. fail. drink guinness.
17. run into sideshow performer albert cadabra, who is drunk off free wine at burlesque show in basement. discuss things. forget to take picture with him. wait until he comes back upstairs. take picture with him. he is a seasoned picture-taking professional.
18. go to sleep earlier than you have gone to sleep in six months. wake up at usual time. shop at expensive stores with unexpensive-sounding names. make comments your parents would make about the prices of things. purchase things anyway.
19. sit in traffic. just cuz.
20. leave. take picture while sitting in traffic of city through grime-covered window.
21. stage photo while driving. make sure to get friend asleep in back seat, and to make stupid face.
22. figure out best way to take picture of great sunset while driving. change settings numerous times until figuring it out. switch lanes three times while doing so, accidentally. take picture. go home. go see shortstack.
Seriously, a fire-engine red bedroom with white lightning bolts and a yellow computer table--you want it.
We just got a new roommate, and she rules. We also got a new place to drink $2 Schaefer, and it rules. Things are looking ruley all around.
I've been waiting more anxiously for the new Aracade Fire album (I even pre-ordered it from Merge--something I've never done before) than I have since the new Yeah Yeah Yeah's came out last year. Since that worked out positively (Show Your Bones rulz), I expect this will be no different.
On Thursday, a friend of A's, who works in radio, gave her an advance copy of Neon Bible. Totes awesome, right? Five days ahead of the rest of North America. Woot. Here's my initial reaction by song:
1. Black Mirror- Good.
2. Keep the Car Running- Okay. A little too much wailing, but good and upbeat.
3. Neon Bible- Good, but would be awesomer at the end of the album.
4. Intervention- Too churchy. We get it, Fires, you bought an old organ.
5. Black Wave/Bad Vibrations- Good because it's spooky. His voice is getting old, though. Whine, whine whine! A friend recently said that Arcade Fire is our generation's Meat Loaf, and I'm beginning to agree. Also, was hoping for a Beach Boys mockover.
6. Ocean of Noise- More like Ocean of dude's voice and lyrics. Enough! Mach schnell mit the rocksies.
7. The Well and the Lighthouse- Finally, something upbeat and whimsical, right? Kinda. Why yous gotta always gotta end up with the chimes and the slowsies?
8. (Antichrist Television Blues)- Did Win meet the Boss while holed up in that church all last year? Did one eat the other? Seriously. The song is okay.
9. Windowstill- Let's leave the song title puns to Fall Out Boy, okay guys? Okay. And you're rambling something fierce.
10. No Cars Go- This song is six years old, and I already own it, and it's no different, but it's still good.
11. My Body is a Cage- See #4.
These things said, it's pretty good. But the lack of a Haiti makes it feel a little hollow. Holler.
When I was a kid, we had a ping-pong table on the back porch. My brother and I painted it black at some point. When I was in college, I built a ping-pong table in my bedroom/living room and painted it purple. When I moved out of the house, I had to destroy the table because it wasn't foldable, being only made of pressed wood and 4x4s. That was a truly sad day. Wednesday, A and I met friends at DC's new Comet Pizza & Ping Pong. We ate fancy pizza and played a few games on their tables in the back. They were traditional green.
The best part of Comet, however, is its bathrooms--the friend we met was responsible for their beautiful High Renaissance-style murals, depicting pairs and pairs of youths frolicking in the Northern Italian countryside, playing ping-pong. As the world should be.
While journalists have come up with a term describing black hipsters (blipsters. for real.), they have failed to adequately define the hipster who is immersed in hipster-related luxury products. A and I have labeled this phenomena "Houge" (hipster + bouge), and as the definers of the term have begun retrofitting the house to reflect our expertise. Hence the chocolate colored walls, glowing fire, and (signed! framed!) Shepard Fairey print.
Found this list the other day. I also found another list, which included "belt," "shirt," and "pants," but I didn't get to take a picture of it. This list would only have been made better by "write list" followed by "mark 'write list' off."
