Weekend with some Fam

Now this was the weekend after the Ibanker incident. And since that was a Wednesday it was really only a day or two later. I was not in a good mood. Not one bit. In fact, it was pretty foul. And to make matters worse, I was having family come into town that I had to entertain. My cousin and her husband were flying in from Orlando. They work for Disney and though they are kind of old, they act like they are young. They like to go out on the town and they have plenty of money to do so. Not surprisinly, my cousin can be a bit of a primadonna, and very demanding. Roughly 3 weeks before the visit I was receiving a facebook message or text every other day with some sort of question about where to go or if I had a plan of action yet. Like a weekend trip to New York City is traversing some strange foreign land. The few days before their arrival I was ready to pull my hair out. Then the Ibanker bomb was dropped and coincidentally the temperature dropped as well--the night of Ibanker incident it had been roughly 75 degrees when I walked into my apartment building in tears. The next day, after spending most of the day miserable in bed, when I finally emerged, the temperature was about 20 degrees colder and rainy. What a perfect day for an outdoor concert, which is where I was headed to meet them. We had tickets to a free performance in Central Park by a famous opera singer. Not exactly my scene but I figured the ticket was free and I had already promised them I would go. When I emerged from the subway at 72nd street I noticed that the line looked pretty long to get in. I was a little concerned as the concert was supposed to be starting soon but I walked thinking I would see the end in a minute. I walked and walked and discovered that the line wrapped around the edge of the Park and didn't stop until past 59th street. Almost 15 blocks long and progress was slow. Just then my cousin called and said they were in what they had thought was the end of the line. Turns out it was at 68th street. When they realized their mistake they figured there was no point in leaving and I knew there was no way I was waiting where I was. So I trucked back up and met them. We were let in roughly 10 minutes later. Despite the fact that I have minimal interest in opera and that we spent the duration huddled under our umbrellas watching the show on a big screen, since we were too far back to see, I actually somewhat enjoyed myself. This Andrea Bocelli guy was kind of adorable and they had some famous guests like Celine Dion and Tony Bennett, who is surprisingly still alive. It also took my mind off my misery for awhile as I was forced to not act like a hot mess.
The next night, after successfully not crying during the day at work, I had plans to meet up with cous and hus again but first I was scheduled to make an appearance at my roommate's bday party in Williamsburg. I accompanied her to the Bedford Hotel, trying not to think about the last time I had been there, with Ibanker. Luckily my roommate's bright green sequined dress provided a good distraction. I had a drink and then ran towards the subway to meet them on St. Marks. I had managed to snag a reservation at PDT and I wanted to make sure we didn't miss it, especially since I was (shocker) running late. But if I am late, my cousin is later and I ended up having to wait at the table for about 20 minutes by myself. I would have been very uncomfortable if this was anywhere other than NYC. When they arrived they were delightfully surprised at the phone booth and the decor once inside (remember, this is the place inside the hot dog stand). We ordered about 3 rounds of crazy drinks, and when we couldn't decide on which hot dog to get my cousin's husband went ahead and ordered all 5 off the menu. They filled me in on some family gossip and we cracked up looking at our crazy cousin's scandolous pictures on facebook. And to make it even better they let me stay at their hotel with them so I didn't have to cab it all the way back to the 'Shwick.
The next day I headed back (much safer in daylight hours) and had big plans to get shit done all day. Instead I feel asleep for 3 and a half hours. By the time I awoke and showered it was time for me to start getting ready to go back out. Another bday party, back on St. Marks. It was the boyfriend of one of my coworkers, really the only friend I had made at this museum since the interns. She was cool, hilarious and had gone to University of Richmond so we had VA in common. We'll call her Penelope. Her sister was also cool and went to American (Selma). Another perk of the weekend was that my entire subway line was not running. So I had to truck 15 minutes through my hood to take the M train. This part of the hood seriously resembled a 3rd world Latin American country and I walked very quickly through it. This line also meant that I had to walk quite a ways when I got into the city so by the time I finally arrived I was freezing and a bit grumpy. Luckily the girls seemed happy to see me so I joined their table and had some drinks. I hadn't met any of the other people present so I was again forced to bury my misery to socialize effectively. I did so for a couple hours until cous and hus' broadway show let out. I decided to treat myself to a cab ride (I do not do this often) to Times Square to meet them. I had brainstormed some options of places we could go in that neighborhood and was worried b/c I didn't have many. Luckily Hus knew there was a rooftop bar at the top of the Marriot Marquee with a view of Times Square. It was a bit touristy but definetely not someplace I would've gone on my own, so it was a good change. We sat in an excessively large circle booth, drinking wine and after a few glasses I spilled it about what had happened with Ibanker. They both gave me their two cents about it, which didn't make me feel better, but was a good dose of reality.
Afterwards my cousin wanted to go to the giant Forever 21 which was open til 3am. This got my off the hook for choosing another bar and I also figured some retail therapy could be helpful. We wandered the store in a drunken haze and I headed straight for the tights. To my dismay Hus tricked me--he ended up buying me 3 different pairs of tights and also snatched away a shirt I was eyeing as well. I felt like a huge mooch, especially when they let me stay at their hotel once again. But that's what fam is for, I guess.
The next day I was their tour guide through Chinatown and Soho. My cousin wanted a fake Louie and I was interested to see how this would play out. It was as shady as one would think. A woman approached us on the street and quiety mumbled something about fake bags. When my cousin asked what kind she had, she led us across the street to a man with a cigarette wedged between his lips. He never once removed it. He took a wrinkled brochure out of his pocket and explained them to us. At one point a cop drove by and it went back into his pocket so quickly I wasn't even sure what happened to it. When my cousin had made her two selections, he ordered us to stay there, he would be back in 15 minutes. He then took off down the street on his bike. And 15 minutes later he returned with a discreet sack. He accompanied Cous and Hus into the bank lobby so they could inspect. I stood outside with their adorable pug, while everyone ohhed and ahhed at him as they walked by. When they emerged the man was angry b/c my cousin had refused one of the bags, for the obvious paint stain it had on it. She took the other though and we made our way into Soho/Little Italy for some pizza. I didn't know the San Gennaro fest (giant Italian street fair) was taking place that weekend so we had to push our way through the crowds. When the line at Lombardi's was too long we decided to get some street vendor food. Except to my horror my cousin noticed that there was room on the patio at Pomadoro's--which is directly across the street from Ibanker's fav bar, Spring Lounge. We sat there in full view, while I miserably tried not to peer inside or think about the fact that I looked like shit from not going home the night before. Luckily there were no sightings and though this soured my mood quite a bit, Cous and Hus (and pug) had served as a good distraction for the weekend. Despite my qualms, it helped and I could then start down the road to recovery. Also the deep-fried oreos they bought from a vendor for me as a parting gift didn't hurt.

Fashion and Freefest

Fashion's Night Out is a big event in New York and one that I was really excited to check out. I recruited who other than GF to be my partner in crime. Our original plan was to walk around and then check out a band that was playing at Rockefeller Center for the night, but we nixed this when we arrived on 59th and Madison to a huge crowd, weaving in and out of different stores. I really had no idea what this night was all about but the stores stay open late, many with free food and cocktails and as if that isn't enough, have special appearances by celebrities to draw people in. I should've figured that this is New York and people would be dressed to the nines but unfortunately I had had a lapse in judgement and had dressed pretty casually. Luckily, it is New York, and you can pretty much get away with wearing whatever you want. We headed into the Calvin Klein store and stood in the midst of the crowd. There was a dj and people taking pictures of a model towards the front. We saw an employee walk by carrying a tray with about 6 champagne glasses on it, which were quickly snatched up. Figuring that was a lost cause, we headed towards 5th Ave, which was where the real action was. Most of the designer stores had huge lines and/or vip lists and we knew that was never happening. We did make it into Tiffany's and I picked out which ring GF which purchase for me. After we walked down to Rockefeller to have a drink and on our way there I thought I spotted Cute Guy crossing the street and my stomach dropped (luckily it wasn't him). Our next destination was a party being thrown by GF's roomate's fiance in Soho. We were going to slum it down there on the subway like we always do but noticed a mysterious looking line. We discovered that VW was sponsoring free rides down to Soho and figured why not take advantage. While we stood in line we were of course forced to give a faux interview, captured on camera, about how excited we were to be riding in a VW. Only half a lie, since I was pretty excited not to have to endure the stench of the subway. Our car pulled up, we jumped in and were immediately stuck in traffic. This gave us plenty of time to chat with our driver who was about our age and a firefighter from Queens. He was cool and put on some house music for us. After about an hour of sitting in traffic we finally made it to the party. People were crowded outside and when we pulled up everyone turned to peer inside the car. GF and I were enjoying this immensely and it became even better when two teenage girls ran up to the car and took our picture. I guess being in a private car with the Fashion's Night Out Logo can't hurt, even for us. Unfortunately this is where our fame ended, as we went in the public entrance rather than the red carpet entrance. Inside was a madhouse, since Heidi Klum was doing an interview in the corner. Luckily there were plenty of free drinks at this place though and after craning to get a look we helped ourselves. While standing there I noticed a good-looking blonde guy in a suit. GF claimed he looked tooly and that he seemed like my type. We forgot about him until a few minutes later when he walked up to us. To both our surprise he went straight up to GF and introduced himself. GF had somehow not picked up on this. They chatted for a minute and then the mysterious stranger disappeared into the night. I decided to then take advantage of the free makeup booths set up. I had a complimentary airbrush done and then headed to another for my blush. GF claimed I looked great but when I got home that night, discovered that in natural lighting I looked shockingly like a geisha. GF's roommate joined us, we had a few more drinks and then decided to a fashion "photo shoot". We chose our wardrobe, selecting the most ridiculous pieces we could find (I believe mine was a zebra print tunic, GF's a fur coat and his roommate had on a cowboy hat) and stepped in front of the photographer taking the pictures. We yelled and posed ridiculously and I would kill someone to get my hands on that photo. By this time the party was starting to wind down so I took the subway back to my hood, since I needed my beauty rest for the weekend.
I was headed back to DC. This particular trip was for Freefest, a giant festival where the tickets were free, if you could get your hands on one. I had, along with AD, Same Name Friend and ED. The crew was being reunited. We made it late to the festival, since I insisted on stuffing my face with some Ben's Chili Bowl before we left. So we had to run over to the stage and only caught the last few songs of Two Door Cinema Club' set. After we realized what we were standing in....disgusting farm mud covered in hay. The festival was being held out in the country in Maryland and this stage must have been placed right on top of a shit-filled pasture. Let's just say that my Keds didn't make back to New York with me. We resigned ourselves to the smelliness and eventually got used to it, since almost every band we wanted to see was going to be at this stage. Except for the next act--Calvin Harris. So after a trip to the portapotties and the beer line we headed to the "dance forest" and squeezed ourselves into the mass of sweaty people. Unfortunately many of these people happened to include fucking annoying college sophomore girls who had had too much to drink. After Same Name Friend almost punched one they moved away and we were able to fully enjoy Calvin Harris. He was awesome and we danced our faces off. I was even more excited for after his set--Cut Copy. And even better news, BK was at the Fest as well and met up with us. We headed back to the smelly stage to all watch Cut Copy together. I danced as much as I could with my feet sinking into farm mud, b/c lord knows I love Cut Copy. Of course I was thinking about the last time I had seen them with the Croatia boys but I was able for the most part to ignore it. Halfway through the set, with the sun beating down on all of us, I decided that my shirt had to go. It was an awesome one, with bright neon letters spelling "hello" that JW had worn to Rebel Bingo, but I was sweating like a fiend and in my alcohol haze decided it was no longer necessary. Off it went, revealing my neon pink bra underneath. I kept this is up long after the set was over, just like at Ultra. I even received a compliment from a girl so it wasn't the worst idea.

We had some time to kill before the next acts, and delicious smells were wafting from the food tents. We headed for the one next to the "dance forest" so we could listen to Porter Robinson while we waited in line. And waited we did. And waited and waited. We had been in line a half hour and were barely moving. People were starting to get antsy and Same Name Friend began to yell curses at a girl towards the front who had budged. Things became even more ruthless as we neared the front and at one point I was afraid there was going to be Lord of the Flies style anarchy. I know we would have gotten our food much quicker if there had been. Finally when we reached the front I learned why the line was taking so long. The employee supposed to be taking orders was a 15 year old idiot, just standing there, with her mouth hanging open. Now I know I sound bitchy, but I've worked in concessions and know how it works. Standing there is not an option. I barked my orders to her while hitting the counter with my fist for emphasis. My inner bitch was coming out--I had been without food for too long. We finally got our nuggets (no sauce, they were out) and ED and I massacred them in about 20 seconds. We sat for a minute, recovering, until it was time to head back to the smelly stage for the last 2 sets of our night--Empire of the Sun and Deadmau5. And another addition to our group--the elusive Charlie Kelly, from Ultra. We hadn't seen him since and it was a welcome surprise. Especially for AD--she had had her crush on him ever since they met and this time she was acting on it. Not two songs into Deadmau5, they were already making out. Now both Empire and Dmau5 were awesome. We were close to the front and got the full view of Empire's ridiculous costumes. I hadn't been impressed with Deadmau5's performances before (note the time I threatened to beat his ass in Germany) but this time he rocked it. AD was occupied and Same Name Friend had also found a makeout companion, in the form of a French younging who claimed her ass was "intimidating". I was slightly annoyed I did not have my own buddy but proceeded to dance my face off anyway. I soon felt a tap on my shoulder.I turned to find my German friend from Sticky Rice standing there. Now there were many key players at Freefest I had unsuccessfully not been able to meet up with, including Blumster and Benny, who was being elusive. I had even invited Lafaille's hot friend at the last minute but he couldn't make it. So out of all these people, I was surprised that it was German who had managed to meet me. We stood for awhile and chatted about the Fest until I knew I couldn't hold my pee any longer, my life story. He walked with me to the portapotty and this is where we parted ways, since he needed to find his friends before the concert ended. I was a little disappointed we couldn't hang out more but also pleased that we had managed to meet up at all.
I made my way back into the crowd, my feet covered in mud, and danced to the last few songs. Halfway through my fav song, a drunk boy in front of me turned to me and began to chat. I was slightly annoyed and when we all turned to leave after the song ended ED grabbed me by the arm and announced to him that "it was too late". We made our way back to the car, sans AD, who had decided to escort Charlie Kelly back to her place. I changed my sleeping location to ED's in Alexandria, but was then very disappointed to learn that Hot Friend was out that night in Arlington. Another failed attempt to meet up (hook up?) with him. Probably for the best, as I was covered in sweat and smelly mud.
The next day ED and I pounded some breakfast then I was heading into the DC to meet up with Benny, despite him being elusive the day before. I had given him some tude about it so I'm sure he was trying to make amends. While waiting for him at Gallery Place, I was conned into buying a newspaper from a homeless man, which is surprising considering my strict "never give money to homeless people" policy. But this one seemed nice and I figured I needed the good karma. Well, another must have witnessed this and walked up to me and demanded two 10's for his 20. I had honestly given the last guy my last dollar so I informed him I didn't have any cash. He stood there glaring at me and repeated his request. I repeated what I had just said louder and slower. He then looked me up and down and spat out "you look rich" before walking away. I nervously adjusted my romper (from Target) and texted Benny to hurry the hell up. When he arrived we had a very similar date to the one we had had roughly a month before, pre-hookup. It was a nice way to spend the afternoon and we had a wholesome time, unlike the last time we had hung out.
And that about wraps my DC trip up. I headed back to NYC the next afternoon as I figured everyone was working and I wanted to get some job applying done in New York. To my chagrin, the moment I stepped on the bus, I received a text from Hot Friend informing me he had the afternoon off. I even debated turning around and catching a later bus, but didn't have the motivation (mainly b/c I looked pretty rough). If I had known that the Ibanker rejection would be taking place roughly 48 hours from then I probably would have. Instead I passed out for the full four hours back to NYC.

Lascivious Labor Day-- Part 2

The morning after the Aussie debacle I had to wake up early. My cousin and her husband were in town for a short trip and I was to act as their tour guide around the city for the afternoon. I was being paid by having them bring some stuff down from Syracuse for me. I was late meeting them, as usual, and had to haul ass down 5th ave to Columbus Circle. Of course that day was exceptionally hot even by 11am and when I reached them I was sweaty and ready to collapse. I was not pleased to learn that they had taken the subway in instead of driving so they were CARRYING all my shit--a bag filled with dishes and a lamp with its base as the Eiffel Tower. Great. My cousin's husband was a doll and carried the bag but I was stuck with the lamp. We decided from the start to have fun with it. We were going to take a touristy picture every place we passed with the lamp. We started with a still life with the lamp on the rocks in Central Park and then moved onto the Plaza Hotel. We convinced the doorman to pose with us while holding the lamp then set our sights on FAO Schwartz (after a quick shot with a hotdog vendor of course). Before entering we had the weirdo dressed as a toy soldier out front pose for a shot then made our way inside. We wandered for a bit, and had roughly 5-10 people stop me and ask me where I got the lamp. Our answers included Paris, and the store next door. We finally found the Grand Piano from Big and took our place in line. We were dancing on the Piano, along with all the 5 years olds, and the lamp was coming with. There are now multiple pictures of my cousin and I jumping around on this piano, and we even purchased the professional one they take and have for sale, amusement park style. We hit up other hot spots throughout the day, including Rockefellar Center, Times Square and the Central Park Zoo. People continued to lose their shit over this lamp, with almost every other person on the street stopping to tell me they loved my lamp. Now, this is New York City. There are far stranger things people could be doing. The previous week I had seen a guy riding his bike down the street in his underwear screaming at the top of his lungs. But for some reason a lamp shaped like the Eiffel Tower made people stop in their tracks, and I still do not get why.

After my day with my cousins and the lamp I trucked my belongings back to "East Williamsburg" (and had to scold a man on the subway for touching the base of the lamp when he thought I wasn't looking) and took my nap. When I awoke it was time to start getting ready to meet Coffee. We were going out once again. He had invited me out with his friends to Greenhouse (where I had been VIP with GF my second weekend in NYC). I was tired and hesistant to go but rallied, as I always do. I met him in Soho where he informed me he had just found out that Sunday nights Greenhouse are gay nights. Not surprising since his friend happened to be, umm, gay! I had no qualms though and was pleased that no one would be bothering me. The gaggle of gays that awaited us were nice, especially Coffee's friend and his tiny little friend. There was an open bar for an hour and after a couple of those drinks I decided that yes I could dance a little bit to some Lady Gaga. A bit into the night I also noticed one of my former coworkers from that fucking coffee shop where I used to work, the one with the missing hand who had tried to ask me out. I chatted with him for a minute and we commiserated over how much the fucking coffee shop had sucked. After this Coffee and I decided that the place was getting a little too gay so we headed out to see what else the night held. We somehow settled on a bar called the Room, further into Soho. It was a wine bar/lounge and I really liked it. I instructed Coffee to order me a Malbec and trucked it to the bathroom. When I returned I joined him on the coach, accepting the fact that I was a little drunk. We chatted and the only part of it I clearly remember was him asking how I get to be so worldly when I was from Syracuse. I replied in a loud voice, while sloshing wine over my glass that I didn't know "how I got to be so classy", direct quote. I'm sure he was very impressed. We ended the night at a delicious pizza place and I made it home at around 4:30am, on what was supposed to be a low-key night. Never in New York.

The next day Yahtzee and I had tentative plans to go to the beach. When I woke up, the weather looked pretty cloudy and wasn't as warm as it was supposed to be. I could tell Yahtzee was hesitant to truck all the way out to Coney Island, but I somehow convinced him to do it, confident that it would be sunny once we arrived. After almost an hour spent on the train, we exited to discover that it was at least 10 degrees cooler than in the City with a strong wind to match. Oops. We headed to the beach anyway and lay there for almost an hour shivering before we couldn't take it anymore. It was then that Yahtzee decided to take his revenge. I hate amusment parks to begin with and unfortunately we were in the tackiest of the tacky. He decided that we weren't leaving until we had gone on the Cyclone, which is apparently the oldest roller coaster in the US and looks like a decrepit piece of shit. I wanted nothing to do with it, but after dragging him all the way out there I couldn't say no. He bought my ticket and forced us to stand and wait for the front car. I was shaking at this point, since I hate heights. We got in, and the thing creaked up an almost 90 degree incline. Looking straight down, I put my head down and saw my life flash before my eyes. It was interrupted by my face slamming into the laprest. My head was then violently thrown back and my headband flew off, never to be seen again. The second casualty of the weekend. I endured the rest of the nightmare-ish ride screaming and praying to God that I hadn't lost any teeth (I didn't). Afterwards, I felt nauseous and self-concious of my wild hair and luckily Yahtzee agreed to head back to the subway. We had plans in a few hours to go to a bar for all you can eat lobster (his idea, not mine) but I turned down his invite to shower at his place. This was before the ending of Ibanker and I figured that would be a little bit weird. I headed back to mine and promptly fell asleep. Because of this I was pretty late meeting Yahtzee and his roommate at the bar. They were almost finished eating by the time I arrived, but I tried a piece of disgusting lobster anyway and was immediately put off by the stringyness. I ordered myself some mozz sticks and a beer and chatted with them. And that's where the weekend ends and not a moment too soon. Labor Day weekend had exhausted me and it was time to call it quits. Back to the subway I went.