DILF YA LATER?

map of bk(i rode from flatbush which is the baby blue area to greenpoint which is the tippy top of the map)

rockstar bar- zexy murmaids

the new love of my life- Jemina Pearl

I get to the door, freeze in front of it with my teal 3 gear 90s bike in grip, and whisper to  my self "theres no way i just did that, and theres no effing way im going to be able to do this."

First off, the door to the front my my building is like, emmm, i dewnt know, 100pounds? I have to somehow pick up my half-the-size-of-me bike, lean to the left so it wont hit the steps, unlock the door and push it open (with one hand by the way) and then squeeze the bike through the limp and heavy iron barred door. Please keep in mind this is only the first three steps that lead up to the door.

Just because i can describe to myself in my head what i need to do, doesn't mean that I am actually physically capable of doing it. I lifted the bike and kind of like HAULED? it up the steps? mm? i dont know? I only made it up one before the front wheel hit the door. At this piont i was holding the bike, the front wheel was hitting the door, and my short ass midget arms couldn't even reach the keyhole to open the door. Shit. I almost felt like i was in a cartoon. Like i was homer simpson trying to do something beyond skill level of living life. I litterally probably said "DO!" like three times.

       I got it! I totally know what ima gunnaa do (im buzzed from 3 pbrs and high off of exersize and cold wind btw) I stumble back, plop the bike down, and bounce it into its parked posish in front of the door. Here, i remove my puffy FARGO-esque fishermans snow coat,  lean into my huge front door  so that it is as wide open as poss, and wedge my coat under the crack (thats what she said) This would have been sensible and totally unfunny if- and only if- this method actually made the door stay open. OHHH but it didnt. Dont worry blog readers- dont worry- my quest to open the door gets better.

        so there i am, wedging my coat sleeve under the crack, proping the door to wide open stance, and then stepping back in hopes that it will remain open so that i can bring my bike through. NO- each time after about 10 trys i step back , lower my head, and watch the door sliiiiiide back shut. slowly of course.  So slow and depressing, each time the door would slide i would get more and more deppressed and feel more and more worthless. Will i EVER get this bike inside? Ive already made it on a 2.5 buzzed bike ride home from north brooklyn. Why cant i just make it the last few steps?

    Finally, on my very last attempt, it stays about 2/3rds of the way open. ehh. good nuff. I grab the bike, haul it up the three steps, and lower it into our entry hall. (dont worry, theres still another set of stairs and another door untill i make it to the 1st floors halwway.)

But id dont stop there. Sure, the bike is in nice and safe, but my coat however is STUCK. THats right, stuck. My darling little puffy coats draw string hook is stuck under the door and wont come out. Now- the door is stuck open and my jacket is ripped from trying to remove it from the under edge from where it is still caught!

Ripped jacket- tired legs, tired spirit- HELL, at least im warm and cozy and in bed now. My cmas lights are twinkleing over my oak wood floors and im watching pineapple express- its all good. Besides, i have a fucking rad ass story to tell about my night and i totally just burned off the bagle and calzone that i had eaten earlier that day.

SO WHY WAS YOUR NIGHT SO RAD? you ask

"OH YA, WELL, IF YOU MUST ASK, ILL TELL YOU. I JUST REALLY HATE NAME DROPPING- BUT YOU KNOW, JUST FOR YOU GUYS..."

Lets start w yesterday morning. So i slept at crush's house, agaaaain. The night before we did another trashy east village dive bar tour, and got a little drunkey poo. Crush managed to make me feel super awk and talk about how hes not ready for a gf. TOTALLLY fine- i get it- i dont want a bf either. But lets be real here...we hang out like 4 times a week, you pay for everything, you offer expensive v day presents, you have me walk your dog, your always free to hang out, im going to wait for somebody to delliver you sewing machine tomorrow morning, and you always say stuff like "you are gunna have to get used to this or that". Its just confusing. Im a pretty go w the flow type of person but when things just dont make sense it gets a little irritating.

Then crush proceeds to say "so ya the person who is delivering my sewing machine tomorrow is my DAD. I didnt tell him anything- not that therers anything TO tell- just pretend you are the housekeeper. lol?" 

um, yah, dude, L O freeking L...ill just pretend im the house keeper that has been sleeping over every weekend for the last 1.75 months. newww prob.

   im sorry- i hope i dont sound like a crazy white girl but this is my blog and i try to reflect how i am feeling as accurately as poss. So whatev- i get over it and realize thats just what you get for trying to date somebody in nyc. this is life and everythings all right- besides everything else is perf. hes a nice guy and we have fun together. his dogs cute and his apt is amazing. so whatevs-

   anyways i waited for his dad the next morning to deliver his brand new industrial sewing machine. His dad arrives and my jaw drops. Hes pretty effin dilfy. I mean, crush did warn me about his perfect skin and his outstanding hair line, but this dad was like super DILF. i was like "hey crush's dad, dilf ya later?" haha oh im totally kidding.

   Crush's dad leaves back to long island and i walk the dog. the cute tiny little dog that looks much like a hamster. a white fluffy hamster. I walk the dog, take the  train to the showroom, grab my shit, make small talk w the door guy, and head off to deliver some shoes to a photoshoot. Mellow day-

Mellow day yes, a mellow day that turned into not so mellow of a night. Its 6 pm and i am watching SUPER SIZE ME. I get a text from Dave "im riding my  bike to williamsburg to go to glasslands...anybody want to come?"

FUCK YEAH- im down. Not only will i get exersize, but ill look SUPER cool and totally like one of the guys by taking my bike. I mean its a mellow bike ride right? Like super mellow- no hills. Ill just ride on the sidewalk and it will all be fine....uh, right?

WRONG- i freeking almost died of exhaustion/being hit by a car/being verbally assulted by a crack head (direct quote- " look     at       you and your goofy lookin bike) And this was all on the 3 block journey to daves freeking house riding on the freeking SIDEWALK. How the beep was i gunna make it all the way to the north of brooklyn from, the south of brooklyn? thats a 2.5 mile ride on the narrow bike path on the street with dbl parked cars and hills and wind and stuff. Whatever thoug, im just one of the guys. no big deal. im chill i can manage. 30 minutes after leaving daves- 30 long ass minutes of mini van dodging and hand signaling and panting and saying "dooood i dont know about this" We made it. As i coasted down union street and gazed upon the hudson and the williamsburg bridge sparkeling in the distance bewtween tall industrial greenpoint bldgs, it was all worth it. I live in new york. im just one of the guys. and i can see the bridge from here as the wind blows through my hair and my cheeks tingle w wind burn. 

     So we stop off at a bar called "rock star bar" A bar that apparently is murmaid themed on the inside, but still called rock star bar. whatever. Its me, Dave, Adam, Brett, and the 2 bar tenders only-were the only ones in there- litterally. Oh, and the dj in the corner. So brett and dave play a competative game of air hockey and i sit back sipping a pbr. just one of the guys. 

      Ten minutes later were talking politics-uh hum just one of the guys- and in walks the guitarist from TV ON THE RADIO. I mean, i dont get star struck- or like to drop names for that matter- but it was kind of a big deal. Me, a few of my guy friends, and the guitarist from tv on the radio. wow. We all held back our "i just wanna say man, i really like your music"s and acted like it was nbd....headed over to the other bar stoges in hand and excitement in hearts. Oh williamsburg.

The show was great! It was at this rad venue called glasslands. I got to se Jemina Pearl from byops new side project and this fun band called PONY PANTS. Matt from MGMT was djing too. Not too man ppl there but it was super fun. Jemina is soo good at being a lead singer and acting like a slutty rebellious teen that drinks beer and spits on the floor. Im sereous! its enchanting and so much fun to watch and dance to. Her voice rules.

so just one of the guys decides to make the 2.5 mile ride home. Buzzed yes, tired yes, but you know just one of the guys can handle it. I got it. Maybe not. Dave offered to ride behind me. Poor guy. i was litterally pantng and whining and going like zero mph the whole way. It got to the point where brett fell from doing figure 8s in the street while he was waiting for us to catch up. sad.

Made it home though. Drunk dialed dono and did my nightly name dropps- made it up stars. fell asleep to pineapple express- you know, the usual. Another surf the channel ending to another wild and crazy day in NYC. Till next time- just one of the guys :)

THURSTIN NOMOORE!

           INSIDE THE INDIAN FOOD RESTAURANT WE DITCHED
THURSTIN MOOORE
INDIAN FOOD PART TWO
                    YOGA TO THE PEOPLE

So, im sorry, but i thought we were in a recession? I also thought that i was supposed to hate New York in the winter time? (SOME DUMB BEETCH TOLD ME ID HATE IT FOR A YEAR ) If recession means i have four jobs and winter mans i can walk around brooklyn in a teeshirt and amer appear thigh highs then, eff it, count me in!

The last week has been a trip. Ill try and make it short...highlight the key factors, jew know. (dont act like jew dont know my name.

Went to Yoga To the People on st marks last thursday with nikki. Absollutely Fabulous. Its three floors of pure NYU infested yoga classes. Two rooms on each floor. A line to go up the stairs and a 30 minute wait for the all bathroom. Matts are 2 dollars and the classes are actually donation based. Perf perf perf. I could do thirty days straight of yoga for 30 dollars. Too good to be true right? well kinda- its so effin packed and stuffed with pretentious yoga goers that a 13 dollar class on flatbush starts sounding pretty pretty nice.

 NO..but it was great. The super super hott ass yoga instructor walked around instructing me to do childs pose, downward facing dong, and even to throw my legs in the air (i wish) At the end he asked us to lay in childs pose and meditate on all of the "closed doors" in our life. Told us to sit at the door and accept the fact that it was closed. At this moment all i could think of was all of the iphones that were probably being called in all of the boho bags in the back of the room. Silenced of course. I even went on to think about how  many missed phone callse were accumulated during our 60 minues of stretch...even wondered if there was a minute at all where none of the phones were being called. 

anyways....nikki and i went to the market and stocked up on bree, bread, sushi, and hummis and then took a wintery wondery landish walk back to her apt in STUY TOWN. Her stoned friends sat there and created conspiricy theorys about who and what and why somebody whould hack into her work email and write a complaint letter to the manager. So good.

I left nikki for a few hours to go hear about crush's first day at fashion school. we met at B SIDE- the bar that i should just STOP going to every single freeking night- and discussed rulers and sewing machines over shots of crappy whisky and pbr. were so east village arent we?? i disgust myself.

friday i waited for a few men to knock down a wall at nikkis house and watched sex and the city, then trekked back to crown heights to prep myself for the week end.  Went to work for a few hours and then went to crush's house. 

SATURDAY- what a freeking saturday. I hosted all dang day from noon till nine and then rushed out to coat check at frog till four am. Offically the longest day i have had to work ever...i did make four hundie, yes, but by the end of it i was ready to stap my own eyes out.

Frog was good though- at about 2 am my adorably wasted roomie stumbles in offering hugs and kisses. i look behind her only to find Brett, Nissa, Ferrar, Vikki, Meghan, Walton, and Dave. This was amoment of joy for me. All of my sweet wasted california friends in one place. But not just any place... a place that is so so obviously not them or even us. A place we would only go to if our friend was the manager and drinks were free. 

Surrounded by up in the club portoricaners and ghetto gangsters that listen to regge tone, all of my adorably hip california kids rolled up alredy drunk from B side, and overjoyed that their friend VIKKI was in town to visit. Lucky for me, i got to sit back in my little closet and watch the shit show. I dont mean this in abad way. I loved it and if i wasnt getting paid to hang up coats i would be doing the same exact thing. It was almost endeering to see all of them so happy and so together and so...lushy. They all rushed up to me and gave me hugs and kissses

  Brett even tipped me in cigarettes- he lit threw two parliaments into my tip bowl.

There was one moment however that really got me. Wasted roomie grabbed dave by the hand and drug him down stairs. As they were striding accross the dance flo-the reflective sparkeling mirrored dance floor- dave looked at me, smiled, and stuck his tounge out in a  total -what the fuck im wasted and this is fun- type of way. I dont know how to put it in words but it was something that only the girl in coat check could see and appreciate. I was overjoyed, stoked, beaming with a feeling of warmth and friendship. So happy to have the friends that i do. Hey, maybes i didnt graduate from santa barbara, but they have truly taken me in as if i were there that first day in the dorms when they all met back in 2003. Who knows, maybe i was. (what?)

sunday was mellow. I ended work at four and had my usual Middle Easter Breakfast (2eggs over easy, salad, and middle eastern yogurt...sereouslly the new eggs california for me) and a virgin bloody marry dousesd in tobasco. (my manager always says "good luck with your hemroids" when he sees me drink one. hmm. whatever that means?!?!) Tomatoe juice on a sunday afternoon is my new love. I love love love virgin bloodys and eggs and pita. Its honestly one of the number one things i live for.

Back to crush's house and on to indian food. We attempted to go to the famous 6th street indian food place (famous for its byob and small size and crazy lights and music) but were accosted by i dont know, about 6 of the managers that stand outside the door 

"come here! come now! free wine on the house! come on ! what you waiting for! COME IN! OR ILL FUCKING KILLLLL YOOU NOWWW!" -them

"um what? what is happening? i dont even want to go there any more" -crush

"ya- lets- go- somewhere- else?" - me

" NO FREE WINE FREE FREEE COME IN NOWWW"

we walk away to the much fancier and much more expensive place down the street. Oh new york city restaurant business- who are you?

After dinner we went to a bar called blue and gold i think. im n ot sure. but it is offically my fave new dive in the east village. NEWAYS we watched the super bowl and attempted drunken ness. At once we were convinced that our bar tender that left to go smoke a cig outside was in the BUD LIME superbowl commercial. It got to the point where we were like asking him if he was -SUURE- he wasnt in  it. hes like "ya, guys, i just didnt want you to find out my secret? I keep all my millions in the bank and bar tend on the side?

"Hey im going to a show do you want to come? Do you want to start a band with me?" -mystery texter

"hey who is this i just replaced my phone. Is it adam? you are the only person that wants to start a band with me slash lives in new york and is going to a show that i know of. What show?" -me

"no its dave, im going to see thurstin moore from sonic youth in williamsburg." -dave

This was perf. an exuse to not sleep at crush's house for a third night in a row and once again overstay my welcome- and simeltaneouslly something fun to do on a sunday.  i mean yes,  i did WANT to sleep with crush again, but dont i look so much cooler and more desireable when i have things to do and sonic youthers to see? right (god i hope crush never reads this, can you see me trying to deny that its about him "yah, um, totally i mean like ya...its not about you dont worry- ya")

So there i go, stumbeling off to the L at 10 pm excited to see a room full of cute wburg hip kids and my sweet little dave. How excited am i? Well- i shouldnt have been. BC it SUCKED. It was the worst expiramental noise i have ever herad. It made the animal collective sound like Wilson Phillips. As i was looking around there were bearded and beanied hotties taht were actually pretending to LIKE it too! it was terrible! how can you bob your head to errrr ahhhhhh sqeeeeek waaaaaa? When they finished my friend @#$% (dont member his name) was like "sereously? were on earth? this is planet earth? is that wat youre telling me? ppl are clapping?

The best part was that we didnt even realize it was thurstin on stage!! Dave whips out his i phone and goes " bridge, this is thurstin moore from sonic youth" i look at the picture then look up on stage at the key boardist packing up his equip. shit- that , NOISE, was who i payed six dollars to see. sweet. Just when i thought i was sooooo hip and soooooo cool for being able to say i saw thurstin mooore, i realize that i didnt even know what he looked like. i didnt even like his set!

of course there were the trendy asians with bangs going up to him afterwords "that was really reallly good, that was sooo goood" Its like really?? is there really a huge white elephant in this venue and were just gunna not talk about it? Whatever- on to the next dive bar. after 2 hours of cheeze balls, beers, and todds girlfriend telling me i should move to the south and find a man to make love to during thunder storms, i decided it was time to go home. Thank god dave and i shared a cab. I passed out with my legs in his lap unaware of the drive from point a to point crown heights.

So there monday was. I had the entire day to sit in my little room, enjoy my christmas lights, and watch gossip girl, L word, The City, and Brooklyn Real word, and reflect upon my crazy crazy new york life that i lead. Im kinda spoiled on the weekends. I eat fabulous meals for free, get taken out by a cute crush, and get to stay in the east village. Then, come monday, i get to leave the city and take a 30 minute people watching subway ride back to Crown Heights, the most beautiful neighborhood ever especially in the winter. Ya, i might not have no money, but fuck, I live in new york, have five milliion jobs, five million friends, and about five million happy-gasms every week. Little things satisfy me, you see?