Up Yours Update

Hello, my little queers.

It has been ages since I've written. I was working, then not, and now I am again, but I can't get on to My Space here, so I need to change my habits. I'm back on this blog again.

I really need to make some comment on the below blogs. I had even started an entry called Neko, not Nico, but it was blank. I want to say that that Neko Case show I went to a million years ago was really great. I love Webster Hall for concerts. She made me cry a little and I basically think that she kicks major ass. The end.

OK, since I last wrote, much has happened. I'm back in Miami and I have seen quite a few things. Like last week, I was at The Standard on Miami Beach, and Hulk Hogan rode up on a boat with his whole familial crew and parked next to me. I almost shit myself. I remember playing with his plastic figurine as a child and there he was, all brown and tow headed, right in front of me! Miami, bro.

I saw Al Gore speak last night at the University of Miami. He did the whole Inconvenient Truth ppt. I didn't see the movie, but I think it's the same info. I love Al. I know some people think he's a hypocrite, but who gives a crap. He's actually out there speaking to people and telling them what shitty shape our environment is in. All those people complaining about him need to get out there with their Powerpoints to convince me that I need to criticize Al. There's this Spike Jonze short documentary that I have that shows Al at home with his family and they're just lovable! I LOVE THEM, pervertedly. Even Tipper, well, sort of.

Julia Stiles was at The Abbey last week and we chatted, thanks to Abraham. We both like 7A on Ave A and 7th Street. I mean, it's OK, I don't love it there, but she said she did, so I agreed. I know, I'm lame. It is pretty good though, just not fabulous. Enough about 7A, for real.

What else? I saw Devendra Banhart again at a private Art Basel event hosted by the Deitch Projects, thanks to Lil' Monds and my own bold nature. He was quite fabulous this time. Unlike the shitty Hammerstein Ballroom, sitting on the sand beneath him singing and playing at the Raleigh was truly one of the neatest experiences; definitely the coolest Art Basel '06 experience. I also saw Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah at the Raleigh that week, I snuck in again, and they were OK. The show got shut down basically before it started. I sent my friend Liza to go talk to the band to see what they were doing after, but they weren't into us, I guess, or they really didn't know where they were going next...

What else have I been up to: saw Dick Dale on Valentine's Day (awesome), went to Miami Noise Conference (Nathan and I checked out dirty boys like the dirties we are), went to Deerhoof show, John Waters movie is out, but I can't find it and I might be in it (let me know if you have it) and does someone want to buy me Northern Exposure seasons 2-6?

I CANNOT WAIT for Shortbus to come out on video, I'm buying it, well, I'll buy it if I have any money at that point. I need a haircut. Should I trust Fabio again?

I noticed I never wrote a blog about Revolutionary Road, one of the best books of the 20th Century, and now it's been too long since I read it, and I can no longer write one. I'm reading What is the What and it is just wonderful. I'm all about it. I'm taking it slow, because it's so sad. I might impale myself on the hardcover if I read it more quickly. By sad I mean, absolutely miserable in every way. I mean dark and horrible, but fabulous. Anyway. Read it you ignoramuses.

FIN for now.
Look, a Leb--->

I haven't been keeping up on my blogs, but here is a list of things I've done lately and how I feel about them.

Neko Case and Martha Wainwright will be discussed in the next post.

Red Light Winter- You've probably seen posters advertising this play on the Subway. I was warned that this would be a "dirty" performance, and so I looked forward to lewd language and nudity. And upon seeing it, both were available. However, the play went from funnyish and thoughtful to depressing and serious, at which point I kind of wanted to leave. There are three characters: two guys and a prostitute. One is a douche named Davis and the other was Matt, the wimpy playwright, presumably modeled after the author. I don't want to ruin the play, so I won't tell you how it got morbid. But it did. No good can come from screwing prostitutes, kids, so lay off the whores. I think it's worth seeing, if you're a drama student.

John Waters, This Filthy World- I was lucky enough to receive an e-mail from a lovely friend of mine which allowed me to attend the taping of this performance. I saw John Waters introduce Marguerite Duras's film Le Camion, a few weeks ago for the French Institute. Naturally, he was less rehearsed at this introduction than at his one man show, but I sort of like him better when he's talking off the cuff. The one man show was hilarious though and I've already ordered Holy Anorexia from Amazon, a book he suggested we read which talks about the self-destructive, vile behavior of saints. As a MASTER of Religion, this seems the stuff I went into the discipline to study. I wish I could tell you more about his performance, but I'd rather you see him for yourself. Do it.

Camera Obscura, not so obscura- I went to see this Scottish band on March 22 at the Knitting Factory and was pretty much thrilled that they were so cute and funny. The band had just arrived from Austin, having just played South by Southwest. Tracy Anne Campbell sang their upbeat songs with just enough sadness and exhaustion to keep the music poppy but interesting. The audience was upset that Kenny McKeeve didn't sing at all, but he spent some time lightening the mood with jokes and such. I think they're sort of great, but I love all things British Isles. I would recommend for sure.

I love animals. I especially like the part where he walked through the Bronx, swam the Hudson and crawled across upper Manhattan to get to Central Park. Wily coyote finally captured in Central Park

The Lazy L

No, I'm not talking about myself. Though I do fit this description.
I am talking about the L train, lame as it is to blog about a train, I am forging ahead and doing so.

This train runs slowly in the morning, especially, and is only efficient after midnight. For all the young, "hip" people living off this line, they are a rare site during rush hour. They do however, emerge in jeans and scarves throughout the work day. Do any of them have real jobs? I don't think so. The morning L is instead filled with high schoolers and mostly Hispanics and African Americans, some young white people too, but they're mostly squares (unless this is how hipsters dress to work). I'm one of them, with my loafers and my orange North Face book bag.

At night, however, this lazy train is ideal. It is a 2 second cab ride from the Lower East Side, it runs into the Meatpacking District, it links with almost every possible train and takes you straight to Williamsburg. There are always people on this train at night that don't look like they want to murder, fondle or stab you. You get a safer feeling.

Essentially this train is ideal for those who have a lax schedule and everywhere to be at night. Otherwise, take the A.

Nasties on the Subway

This morning I got into a tiff with a 350 lb teen on the train. I sat next to her on one of those tiny benches near the door. She tsked and then snarled, while moving her gigantic arm.

So, I turned and asked, "what, I can't sit here?"

After waiting for the train for 20 minutes, watching two trains pass before I could even squeeze onto the third, I was in a nasty mood.*

Equally unpleasant, she spat out, "you sat on my purse."

I didn't see the purse under her arm, and am damn sure I didn't sit on it. It was, though, the tiniest purse I have ever seen. A little Guess one, like Raquel, my old roommate used to carry. You can fit your keys and credit cards in there, not much else.

After she left, two other chicks got into a verbal brawl. The one was a white lady who had a large, flat cardboard box which was apparently "jabbing" a rather loud, pretty Hispanic lady in the leg. "It is jabbing in my leg!"
"No it's not, I can see it."
"Who are you to tell me that it isn't."
"This is the Subway, you have to deal with it."
"I don't have to deal with it!"
Blah, blah, blah. I love coffee-less mornings in the City. So filled with friendly compassion and sisterly love. I love you guys!

*Please see next blog on the L train.

Bringing it home with the Bring 'em Home Concert

So I went to this big show last night. The concert was soaking with stars and musicians who spoke out against the war and Bush.
As is appropriate for these peace/Democrat events, it was disorganized and took us 30 minutes in the freezing cold to get inside the Hammerstein Ballroom. Once inside, Fischerspooner was already on stage with a performer spurting blood on the audience. I couldn't see much from where I was standing, but from what I could tell above many heads, the stage performance looked impressive.

As I was slugging down a Jack and Coke, I spotted a 20 second window period for my friend and I to sneak up to the VIP section. We filled up on free vodka and popcorn (my dinner, ew) and shot the shit as the performances ensued. Peaches was fun and the audience sang "Fuck the Pain Away" along with her. I wish I had really paid more attention to Devendra Banhart, but I was getting much needed sustenance and it honestly sounded sort of boring (don't hate me). I also chatted through Bright Eyes though I could see he was really into it, putting on probably one of the better shows this evening. The sound system left much to be desired, but Rufus Wainwright really rocked the NY house. He is really not that popular anywhere else, is he? His voice is lovely and he sang "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" and we all loved it. Moby popped up to promote some musician buddies of his, boring.

Susan Saradon, who had just gotten off stage with Cindy Sheehan walked directly in front of me and that was pretty neat. Um... what else. Oh! At the end of the night, I saw Fred Schneider from the B-52s, which was the biggest thrill, because he was just hanging out.

Finally Michael Stipe sang with James Iha playing in the back. It wasn't so bad, but I really wanted him to sing "It's the End of the World As We Know It" or "Nightswimming." Of course he didn't. I also was hoping the Boss would show up, since he's an activist and from around here, but it didn't happen. Whatever. I had a good time and it's always fun to be VIP at a VIP show.

I really hope that they do more of these not just every year on the many anniversaries of the war. I pray that we get, not just press, but political attention. It is disgusting that this long after the start of the war, everyday people are still dying and the progress being made seems to be in bloodshed, not in peace.

Here's a Village Voice article on the concert.

Winter

This winter is apparently never going to end.
Everyone thought that it was mild this year. "Oh, how lucky to have such a warm winter," their voices cracking in the cold air. I mean, for me, 40 degrees isn't ever warm, but then again, I think it's freezing when the temperature is 70.
Last week it was in the 60s, and it actually was a fabulous change. I bought a cheap Spring coat, actually started to feel good, when winter decided to come back full force.
I feel like I just got here from Miami all over again. I cannot believe how frigid the air is and it's only back to 40-something. There is something in it that's extra cold, enhanced chapping power. And it's almost April!
It feels like Spring is the guy you dated and stopped calling you so now you sit by the phone at night, check your e-mail early every morning for any word, just a quick hi, maybe your friend ran into him at the mall. But every morning you get no e-mail or call. And that's just sort of like how I feel. Rejected by Spring.

Lexington Candy Shop.
Rip Off

After about an hour of innocently wandering around the Upper East Side, I gained quite an appetite. When I spotted this cute little diner, my stomach growled, "go eat." So I did. When I sat down, I noticed three of my favorites on the wall and took it as a good sign. Bruce Springsteen, a god among men, was perched next to my left shoulder, looking hotter than ever in the late-eighties picture. Then I spotted Paul McCartney, not my favorite Beetle (George, since you asked), but obviously a true classic. Last but not least, there was Reba smiling down on me like a country angel. I know everyone is too cool to enjoy it, but Reba's show is funny. I swear it is (you'll never believe me, I don't know why I bother).
What I should have registered their smiles as, was: tourist trap. The guy took my question about the Mediterranean turkey burger to indicate that that was what I wanted and quickly threw the patty on the grill. Stuck with this as my order, I got some fries too and a SMALL coke. When I received the bill, my burger was over $8 and didn't even include fries! This is why I never ate at Fuddruckers. If I order a burger that costs more than $2 I want fries with it. Goddamn, is that too much to ask? The bill came out to over $15. I almost puked when I saw the bill. I turned to the guy, "this is ridiculous." He looked like he meant it when he apologized to me twice, but who knows.
Bruce, Reba and Paul betrayed me.
But hey, there'll be other restaurants, so in the words of The Boss, "and that's alright with me."

People are really nuts.

I know that this is common knowledge, but I just am always amazed by the ridiculousness of people. Hey, I know I can't get out of this one, I too am included in this madness. I had to call a car service for this guy, my temporary boss, 6 times before it didn't end up coming. He was down there a total of, maybe one minute before calling up here. I called the car service twice and was on hold and he proceeded to call me back 4 more times within the next 5 minutes.

Mind you, this guy is really nice. Some other, not-as-nice douche made me book a flight for him the other day. I don't even trust my parents to book a flight for me! I just think that it must be very frustrating to have other people do things for you to make your life function properly. Simple shit, too! Anyway, the nice guy yelled on the phone that this was pathetic. I agree, but the whole situation had absolutely nothing to do with me or my capabilities or his. No one was intentionally trying to impinge on his convenience. He maybe wouldn't have been so angry if he was directly expressing his desires to the nasty car lady.

Then I had to investigate why the car wasn't here. It turns out, I think that the service got the car numbers mixed up. Exciting stuff. God help me if this is it for me!