Viewing entries in
Personal
Just a few pictures from last week's Babel session.
Annie brought some mangos for the family. How thoughtful.
Cyrus roared in laughter with a bone chilling edge, his head tilting back, mouth stretched as evil in its organic essence flowed out from within. People stopped mid-movement frozen with terror. "Finally!" he roared. "Millennia of planning, eons of plotting, and pulling strings," he said, "At last! Success is mine." Somewhere from the crowd, a single shriek of dismay and complete surrender escaped, like that of a balloon suddenly pierced, at Cyrus' declaration. No one turned to see who had cried out because each individual believed that they were the culprit. The surrender was total. At this, Cyrus said with a smirk, "I AM NOW YOUR DJ."
Cy playing the tunes.
Chris is a fan.
Chris ruining a perfectly nice photo with bunny ears. Yup, bunny ears.
No more of the Goose...
But that doesn't stop the dance! The DANCEEEE!
Off to Arizona for the weekend. Back Tuesday, bitches.
Cyrus sent out a party rallying call on Tuesday (Who goes out on Tuesday anyway?) for an open bar thing at Gallery Bar for URB Magazine. And did you know that the DJ is DJ KENNY PARKER??? KRS-One's younger bro? (Thanks Annie, er, Wikipedia.)
Annie reading up on the vodka sponsor while Chris does what he does best: texting away on his phone from the future.
Jeff!! Haha, clearly arriving right after getting off work. A suit in a sea of flashy sneakers and BAPE hoodies. LOVE this kid.
Am I just really that tan or is Jeff really that pale? I can't tell. Either way we're both keeping it real.
Annie! She was dropping all this knowledge earlier in the night about the DJ and the whole time I was thinking "Damn, I know a little bit about the hip hop, but she's making me feel mad ignorant." Turns out, she just wikipedia'd the shit. Can't hate on the researching tho.
Me with Annie and Erika!
Apparently something in the ceiling was very captivating to us.
The Lord of Babel enjoying his cold vodka cran.
Hahaha.
Texting away.
Chris and Jeff discussing maybe the next karaoke night. Or the hot tattooed girl. Both fun topics.
Erika and Cy!
Heh. Checking out the runway it seems.
Ah, the ever necessary appropriate hoodie for the hipster party.
A not so successful jump...
Success!
Pictures speak louder than words, some say. I hate "some" but some speaks the truf "sometimes." So here's my weekend in a nutshell:
Bill Clinton came up with the clues for this New York Times crossword. I doubt the current occupant of the White House will be asked any time soon.
Update: And of course here is the appropriate relevant YouTube clip that my short entry below refers to: [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=od4KKw8tp20]
This movie (Swingers) is definitely in my top three favorite movies of all time. I used to watch it with my friends in college as part of our pre-game ritual. Anyway, like I said: I got it under control.
Just want all you skeptical bitches to know that I've GOT IT UNDER CONTROL!
Yes, people. You read that headline correctly. In this entry you are getting a double header, a two-fer, a two for the price of one special: I'm posting a Weekend Update entry AND a classic Last Night's Party entry.
On Thursday afternoon, I get a message from my buddy Clay in DC asking me to call him back ASAP. Not "asap." But ASAP--in caps. "Yo, I got tickets to the Red Sox/Yankees--I'm coming to New York!" This is his buddy Ben. He and I chilled out in the bleachers with the rest of the hoi poloi while Clay sat elsewhere.
We were seriously surrounded by douchebags. Peanut throwing, "faggot" yelling, and cursing at old men qualifies them as douches in my book. The kid sitting next to us actually got kicked out by the cops.
The game was entertaining otherwise. I was bummed the Sox lost, but it was still an enjoyable game.
I was worried earlier in the day because of the threat of rain, but the night turned out to have really great weather. Look at that blue sky bitches!! Perfect baseball weather.
Afterwards, we kicked it back in Park Slope style at Cherry Tree for some beahs and pizza. Clay rocking out.
Ben is pensive.
Check out Ben's hat. I think it belonged to his grandfather. That is some quality baseball hat gunk. They had to head back to DC that night. Although they had an interesting drive back.
At midnight Chris and I motivated ourselves to go to a party in freakin' Williamsburg (place is FAR from Park Slope ya'll) at Chris's friend's apartment. Here's the decidedly unhipster-like host surrounded by his lady friends.
On the rooftop, it's Tze the adorable partier extraordinaire, Jeff the fun loving party guy, and Nate the good guy who'll dance with any girl to make them happy.
Hey, it's Cyrus and his tie dye Africa shirt! "It's not tie dye dammit!"
Finding the roof a bit chilly, we headed to the party downstairs and sat down in the living room to find that our minority presence...
...cleared the dance floor. *Insert crickets chirping.*
I need another drink. My plastic cup (classy) is empty, ya'll.
Chris concurs. "Yea, you need another drink bro...and get a classy one like mine."
What's a night with a jump I ask? NOTHING!
So we went back upstairs and helped ourselves to a couple bottles of wine.
Cy and Chris are talking, talking, talking. Talk talk talk. "Yea, I need to do some laundry. I could use some quarters--oh wait. GOT IT."
Ingredients for a solid Saturday night.
Me and my new friend.
Yea!
Getting my dance on.
She thought she was getting a nice smiling photo but instead it's just me and Chris ruining yet another nice moment. Party on, Wayne.
Chris and Jeff discussing duck genitalia.
HAHA. Chris, Jeff, and Nate showing the camera love.
This guy (Rob?) was INSISTING that Jeff punch him in the face.
"PUNCH ME!" I'm sure he's a nice kid...but I kinda wanted to see Jeff or someone or ANYONE smack this guy only because he was so freakin' insisting about it.
"We do need some paper towels..."
And then people just started jumping everywhere. Jumpfest 2007.
Cy gets in on it.
Jump jump!
Haha. This photo will make Jeff so happy.
While waiting for Chris as he talked to his friend...
Cy and I took photos in the hallway.
HIHIHIHIHIHI
Sunday morning, er late morning, er early afternoon, I met up with Cy for our weekly brunch strategizing session. Henry was there along with his old cell phone.
The latest in cell phone technology, ya'll.
After food and five cups of coffee, we brought the party to the steps in Union Square.
Henry and his ever present hat.
The pain on Cy's face is the inevitability of the fact he has to go into work on Sunday.
Monday, on my way home after hitting the gym I receive a text from Chris asking me how I felt about going to a party in LES with him and Jeff because of the nice weather. I responded that I felt good about it. We got there and it was literally a party of three. So instead we headed over to the ol' standby, Pianos. I was expecting a relatively low key night. Little did I know.
And we found ourselves in the early stages of a karaoke party there that night. Chris and Jeff seem initially skeptical.
I mean, they were REALLY gawd awful sounding. REALLY AWFUL. But what turned us from haters to...karaoke lovers?
Total Eclipse of the Heart! Jeff is LOVING it. LOVING the Total Eclipse of the Heart.
Wow. Chris is pulling "raising the glass" move early...
THIS photo would go into the Last Night's Party Hall of Fame. Haha. Jeff is studiously examining the Good Book of Songs for song options while Chris looks at him like an insistent wife. "Jeff, we're going with Sinead O'Connor."
Hmmmm. So many options!
And then things really got hot with "Intergalactic...planetary..." (say it out loud like a robot).
Here's a no-surprise: This 'stached guy sang Johnny Cash.
We're lovin' it! (No--no one did Justin Timberlake.)
YEA!
This girl was the star of the night. 1) She was the nuttiest dancer on the floor highlighted by the fact she was practically 7 feet tall, so she kinda stood out to say the least. 2) When she went on stage and looked kind of nervous and suddenly sober, Chris or Jeff said "this is either going to be REALLY amazing or REALLY terrible." If you're wondering what the result was, just look at the picture. LOOK at the mother fucking picture! It was AMAZINGGGG. Possibly one of the greatest thing I've ever seen--along with a guy singing word for word "Gasolina."
The switch to the bottle beer which lessens the spillage possibilities on the dance floor.
If you want to catch the next karaoke session, check it out at karaoke killed the cat.
Are you nursing such a serious hangover that death or at the very least, coma is preferable to your current pounding headache? Never fear--your easy listening sunday is here. Today, it's Lionel Richie. [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PDZcqBgCS74]
I don't like to editorialize too much on the "Easy Listening Sunday" entries (it should be about the music...), but I think this video tops what I thought couldn't be topped--and that was Elton John's music video from last sunday ("Nikita"). Consequently, I'm compelled to jot a few words.
There's so much to be said about Lionel Richie's "Hello" music video--or should I say short movie? Is it a music video? Is it a short movie? I don't know!
Thesis: "Hello" is actually seminal because it created its own genre: the music video-short film-musical. Michael Jackson's "Thriller" gets a lot of the credit for reinventing the music video format (and Jay Z's "Big Pimpin" gets a nod in music video history primarily for the most gratuitous spillage of Cristal on curvy sun-bathing women), but I think "Hello" is a sleeper gem that music historians and Vh1 "I love the..." and "Top 101..." shows have unfairly overlooked.
In addition to its technical merits, Hello is also pioneering for the positive social message it broadcasts. The video and Lionel Richie sends (sings?) a powerful voice that addresses the public's misconceptions and prejudices about the blind: Blindness is not a disability nor a hinderance. It may prevent being able to tell the difference between a single and a hundred dollar bill (as Chris Rock said), but in matters of significance, consequence, and weight blindness is as much an obstacle as cake is to a fat, hungry kid. This is not to suggest that blindness is delicious.
This video humanizes the blind. It shows that a blind person can be a captivating actress, graceful ballerina, AND a master sculptor. A blind person can be beautiful, popular, intellectual, and posess a warm personality. A blind person can also make their acting teacher fall in love with them. The message is that a beautiful actress/dancer/sculptor who also happens to be blind can find love! Blind people love, too. What a powerful film. It's too bad the blind can't see it.
Lionel Richie, on the other hand, demonstrates how easy it is to stalk a blind person. Because they CAN'T SEE YOU--or so he thought! The ending is the coup that elevates this video from "good" into the pantheon of greats. I hope someone from VH1 sees this penetrating analysis and argument and devotes an entire marathon to Hello, like they do with Thriller...which doesn't have one iota of social redemption and if anything only generates and fosters fear mongering among the general dominant populace towards the much maligned zombie community.
What I love about fridays after work (other than the occasional post-work drinking session) is unwinding at home from a hectic week in the office and then remembering to turn off my alarm for the weekend. Conversely, what I hate about Sunday evenings is...
Ever wonder how all these "competitive" eaters down eye popping amounts of food? It's kind of obvious, but maybe they all just have freakishly gigantic stomachs.
Before eating and uh, after eating.
Friday night was uneventful. Post work drink (Yup! Just one, seriously) followed by dinner/strategizing session with Cy at the diner. Ran into one of Chris's friends. She said she remembered me as the guy with a hispanic last name and it scared her. I wasn't quite sure how to interpret that one. And I was in bed and out by 10 pm.
If my life was a serious of websites, then Saturday would definitely be one to bookmark. Woke up, and got our usual at Bergen Bagel with Chris. The leisurely 10 minute walk there in the perfectly warm Brooklyn morning was fantastic. It's been awhile since I've been able to walk around in just my t-shirt. Afterwards, I went to Central Park to meet up with Viviana for some QT. Chris, Mike and Jeff showed up later. People watching; throwing a frisbee (and looking away innocently when it hit someone); drinking a beer.
Chris looking pensively sober outside of Moe's to celebrate a very belated birthday for Annie.
Two thumbs up and "ARRRGGHHHHHH"
Haha. The "insert hot chick using Photoshop here" pose.
Matching shirts and cigs?
A plate of leftovers left behind by a couple girls we kicked out so we could sit there.
Jeff is mesmerized by the incredibly graphic violent film that is playing inside the bar.
Reena trying to avoid a wayyyyy too friendly drunk stranger. Personal space, buddy, personal space.
Later, we went to a diner (Cy was STARVINGGGG). Look at Cy's head!
Haha.
Mmmm, coffee at 4 am. Or was it 3 am? This is a guy who knows how to rally. Damn.
Sunday, I met up with Cy at Tompkins Square Park. Flipped the ol' disc around. Cy almost got run over by a skateboarder.
I took photos. Weekends are never long enough, especially when they are as bookmark'able as this one.
Did you see the girl of your dreams and let her slip away this weekend...because you were too busy running to the bar bathroom to throw up? If so, let Elton John ease your heart...and morning hangover on this easy listening Sunday.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d3dkVFQdza0]
It's never too early to start planning for Halloween:
Yea, I care about my dignity.
Most of ya'll probably have no idea who this guy is but I saw Beau Sia today sitting outside of Soho Park, a relatively recent beer garden/cafe in the Soho area. I mentioned him awhile ago regarding the Rosie controversy.
I told the bouncer last night, when I was drunk, after he asked me for my ID, "No. Look at my American Express instead. See! I've been a member since 1975." That was my dad's credit card.
"I hate wearing contacts...but I can't go to the strip club in glasses."
Preface: I've been so exhausted from this past weekend that I've been writing this entry below sporadically over the past four days. Just thought I'd let you know...so you'll appreciate all the hard word work and effort I put into this piece.
This past weekend, I had my first experience as an attendee at the age-old ritual that is suppose to remind the future groom of all the "fun" he'll cast aside and walk away from once the magical phrase (or curse to the cynics--not me) "I now pronounce you..." is uttered.
Of course, I'm talking about a bachelor party, a party which will be appropriately recapped (with requisite photo and textual censorship) and pondered at a later date this week once I've had more time to digest that experience. I can say at the moment however that in sum, I had a great time there--it was held in Chicago which was considered a good compromise to those of us living on the East Coast (the better half) and those in the West--until Mother Nature decided to pop that fun balloon by extending what was suppose to be a less than 2 hour flight out of Chicago O'Hare back home to LaGuardia here in New York into a 14 hour endeavor that dropped me off finally in stinkin' Newark Airport at approximately 2 am. I don't care what Al Gore or Green Peace or my most recent issue of Mother Jones says--sometimes Mother Nature can be a real bitch!
On one level I am fortunate that I even made it out of Chicago--as tardy a departure as it ended up being--since except for mine and another flight, the remaining 6 or 7 flights to NYC were outright cancelled. Ironically enough, my friend, New York City neighbor, and fellow bachelor party attendee who was most concerned all morning with his flight back home (he was even considering renting a car to drive from Chicago to NYC) went to the airport early, got on a standby flight and was home safe and sound in his apartment on the Upper East Side before dinner. Damn bastard. I, on the other hand, was positively completely unconcerned about the flight and the hellish weather reports coming out of New York City, because it was...rain. Snow, sure. Snow is slick. Snow is icy. Snow is HEAVY. Rain is...wet and sorta slippery. But those Goodyear ads had me convinced that by this point, we'd beaten that slippery attribute of rain once and for all!
Besides, when did a minor thing such as rain result in mass flight cancellations? If you can answer this question, don't. I'm on a roll here with this entry.
Relatedly, the other quality contributing to my nonchalance is my Alaskan upbringing.
I can't speak for my fellow Alaskans (appropriate shout outs here to Clay the Stud of DC, Sam the Punk Rock Scientist, and Dan the Funny Man), but I've flown in and out of the airport in Anchorage, Alaska more times than I can count on my fingers and toes. Not once have I ever had a flight arriving or departing from Anchorage ever delayed or cancelled on account of the "weather." This is the one time I'll allow you to indulge in your stereotypical notions of Alaska: As you can imagine, the weather in Anchorage can get much more hectic than the New York metro region (Day After Tomorrow notwithstanding). So like state geography (everything is "South"), being Alaskan makes one have a slightly different perspective on some things, like the delicate dance between air traveling and mercurial Mother Nature (Whattabitch!). Alaskans always roll our collective eyes at the annual freak out that occurs all over the country after the first snowstorm.
In the end, my flight situation resolved itself. I got home safely, albeit a little later than I originally planned. However, this episode hauntingly reminded me of a remark someone once said to me a long time ago.
"Matt," she said, "You don't ever have a contingency plan. By that I mean you don't make back-up plans. You always just expect things to...work out."
I didn't really have a response then, because she was absolutely right. There are specific events that have happened in my life, frequent and episodic enough, that has (deleteriously?) encouraged and rationalized this behaviorial tendency. And while this is something I am trying to change in my life, this past weekend in Chicago, I reverted back to my previous modus operandi. Yet, I still ultimately made it home safely.
I realized this entry doesn't really have a point. This is what I should have written:
I was in Chicago for my buddy's bachelor party (Congrats Winer! And thanks Mike for hosting us all!). It was totally really insane and we partied pretty well--really great time guys! My flight got delayed and delayed. Really fucking sucked. I hate rain.
No photos from Thursday night, but lets just say I ended the night passing out on a couch while wearing a freakin' sweet kimono. Friday night (No work that day thanks to Good Friday), I went to Rififi's to see my friend Dan, from high school perform stand-up. Unfortunately, I got there right after he had finished his set and I was pissed I missed it because putting aside my obvious partiality, I do find his stand up quite hilarious (mmm, jokes about rape, the Holocaust, and abortion). Check out this clip of him from Comedy Central:
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gS95kFwgEIs]
Go check out his snazzy new website and friend him on Myspace.
Anyway, check it out: THREE, yes, THREE Alaskans in New York City at the same location and time. Me, Dan, and Dave. Little did the patrons in the bar know that they were in the presence of basically...a lot of Alaskans. If they had, their brains might have exploded. That's why we had to leave the bar--for the welfare of the people inside.
Dan lives out in LA and didn't bring a jacket to NYC. At his meeting at Comedy Central this week, I guess they felt bad that he didn't have a jacket so they gave him this vest from the Comedy Central roasting of William Shatner (heh, Shat. Insert Beavis and Butthead laugh here.).
Afterwards, Cy and I went to S'Mac, a mac and cheese restaurant in East Village. Dang, I'm hungry just looking at this picture.
It was so good, we each got another plate. Haha. I got the 4 cheese and the Cajun one.
On Thursday night, someone said to me "Who throws themselves two birthday parties, anyway??" Cy does. Saturday night, he had his second birthday party at Kush.
Chris's dope gigantic beer (Only four dolla too!) and his uh, 69 coat check ticket. Heh.
Beth and her partner-in-crime from college days. When we first arrived and sat down, Beth asked "Is there dancing that goes on around here? We might have to go somewhere with dancing." Oh, what a prophetic question...
Dang, those "reserved" signs are so tempting to steal, er, borrow. I'm not saying I was in any way involved, but the following have been borrowed by some people from bars and clubs:
Reserved sign; Salt and Pepper shaker; Books; Pillow; And a chair.
Rupa and her friend (again, I'm terrible with names!).
Annie and Chris. The party poses started early!
Yea, so this is the GOOD profile side of my face. From the other side, I'm just a hot mess.
Birthday boy, Chloe and her British friends. They left for England on Sunday. How do I know this? Because Chloe reminded me about 8 times that they were leaving for England the day after. Haha.
Rupa is checking to see if her friend bathed.
Yup!
I'm trying to think of the last time I went to a party that wasn't a hookah joint. Hmmm. I can't remember...but hookah is just so...good.
Regarding hookah being good, Reena is thinking, "YEA IT IS!"
"Birthday boy wants some god damn hookah, Reena! I WANT IT."
Beth is clearly amusing me here.
SMOKE.
MUNIBHEN! (And her friend--I seriously need to take one of those memory classes so I can remember people's names better.)
Haha. Beth looks...dirty here. Not dirt dirty obviously, but like...Spice Channel dirty here. Damn!
2/3s of the Dugger clan, not that you can see the resemblance or anything. Haha.
"Ahh, no more photos!"
Chloe and her friend.
Ooooh: A photo OF a photo being taken. How post-something.
Oh my god, law school's killed Kenny! A rare night away from the law library for this kid.
And it's Monica! Aka Monkiwi!
I think I was saying something like, "ARARHHHHGGGHH" here. And that means "Happy Birthday."
BAM! There it is. Blue Steel bitches!
Night started getting a little hazy here after these two shots of whiskey for me and Chris. And my peeps know I don't do whiskey. Ever.
Remember that question Beth asked earlier? "Is there any dancing?" Sheeeeit. It's not all just photo taking and drinking with us.
And here's Beth doing her part on the dance floor. And look at how HAPPY the guy in the background is that she's doing her thing. Her thing being dropping it low to the ground.
He's like "Yessss. That is wifey right there."
Kenny capturing the moment so he'll never forget when he is locked back up in the law school dungeon.
Me, Chloe and Chris.
Yup.
I like how Beth and Kenny are doing the sexy thing and me and Chris are just acting like dang fools.
Dance, dance, dance. Speaking of, I think SexyBack should be retired from all DJ set lists. It's that time.
Again, soles of the shoes be insulting you.
Reena is really enjoying wearing my manly scarf and and Chris's hat.
I think the whiskey shot I had started to kick in around this point...
Wow. In all the four years or whatever that I've been blogging and taking photos, I've NEVER had a photo like this. "Save to back-up server."
What is going on here? I know two out of four people here read my blog so hopefully one of them can enlighten me on what occurred at this moment.
Group shot!
"ARRRRGHHGHHH," says Matt while Cyrus is heard in the background. "What? Obama, let me call you back tomorrow. I'm out at a club right now. Call you back. What? I'll CALL YOU TOMORROW. Right. Exactly. Peace in the middle east."
I assumed that we left Kush around 2ish, but the text I sent at 5 am from the pizza joint suggests otherwise. Here's Cy looking exhausted after drinking from basically 9 pm to last call.
On Saturday, I attended a last-minute fundraiser for Barack Obama held by Cy, Waples and O Henry, which was quite fun and it feels good to have been a part, if a very SMALL part of the stuntastic amount Obama raised in the first quarter (Can you bitches say 25 mil? Say it with me, "Twenty-five Mill.").
Viv and Erica are all smiles (because of Obama or the alcohol?).
Take 2. I ask again, what's up with girls always insisting on editorial and creative control?
See. NO creative direction and clearly no deletion powers. And despite that, I have to say in this photo: I LOOK good. Haha.
"No no, Obama! You gotta think positive, man! Think positive bro. You've already made it. You got endless upside bro!"
Me and Viv. A rare foto where I'm actually smiling and not doing anything "weird" like jumping around.
So much for that nice moment. Not quite sure what I'm doing here in this photo.
Fundraiser attendee (Sheesh, I'm terrible with names) enjoying the delicious empanadas Henry cooked up.
Take 2.
When Cy saw this foto later, he said, "I don't even remember drinking that..."
And of course, he didn't remember this taking place either.
Erica insultin yo face by showing the sole of her shoes.
Henry walked around making everyone do shots of that stuff. It WAS tasty.
The night starting to get hectic.
The lawyers.
Haha, you know I can't go a night without ONE jumping picture.
Hey what do you know! I'm at Babel AGAIN. Henry and Chloe decided to have their joint birthday party (Happy birthday ya'll!!) there.
Yo!
The next morning, Erica joined me and Cy for our weekly brunch. She's still drunk here.
Haha. No regrets! And again, much life strategizing occurred and time will only tell whether it's ultimately successful or not. I've been re-reading Kundera A LOT lately for insight.
Afterwards, Henry met up with us at Cy's apartment for some Little Miss Sunshine movie action. Altho, I only got to enjoy about half the movie since I spent the rest of it dealing with work on the phone.
A rare moment of respite from the phone...
And she's out.