Huka Thinker

Huka smoke

Huka time

The Neverending Story

Ok, so there was more art to be viewed. After meeting up with the went-to-bed-at-7:30 am crew, we immediately headed to Queens. More specifically, another museum. This one verry contemporary. PS 1, as a matter of fact. Have you heard of it? This was my first visit and it was good times, my friend. It's this 3 story renovated school, which has art pulsing from every nook and cranny (did I spell that right?) of its being. Even in the unisex bathrooms. There was one particular video I connected with in one of the loos. It was clearly a 1st person pov and consisted of shots of men as this person travelled around the city, on the subway, etc. In white letters typed in fron of each guy was either a 'yes,' 'no,' or 'maybe.' Ha! It was the soundtrack that really made it work. The entire exhibit was quite fun with a myriad of stuff going on. There was an art ride, constructed out of wood and gel, an ice sculpture, performance art, a mystical white haired big foot in the basement, and all sorts of other crazy shit. Fan-fucking-tabulous. So awesome, I must curse.

THEN, more recruits joined us from Boston. We jaunted back to mid-town to meet up, but not without refueling with some mocha lattes. This was going to be a long night.

First group stop: Dinner!! Yes! About time. But, then there was the necessary group dynamic of "Where do you want to eat?" "I'm not sure. What about you?" What are you in the mood for?" "Anything really. What about you?" "I could go for Italian or Indian or Mexican or Chinese or sushi." Aaaaah! We ended up at the place next to where we could find a parking spot. Thank god there was some sort of deciding factor. Even more Boston recruits met us for dinner! So, it was like every other dinner I normally have on a weekend here in Boston. The food was salright, sokay. The service was crazy stellar, though.

Second group stop: Hukas! If you've partaken of the huka smoke, then you know what it entails. Lots of light headed giggles and puffing and passing. We all got nice and loosened up and soon the camera phones came out- Picture Time! I'll post them if I ever download that goofy Hello software. We were really at the huka bar to kill time, though. Our intended destination was a sake bar. 3 rounds of drinks later, we finally end up at said sake bar. Let me tell you, I have never had better sake in my life. The Asians of the group did most of the ordering, so sadly I can't say exactly what I drank- something about 'refined,' I think. So smooth.

Part 2: What do you do with a BA in English/It Sucks to be Me

What to do? What to do? So much to do! So much to see! Luckily, the guest room is also the computer room. I immediately set to work plotting my course, since I knew I would be going it alone, being the only person friggin' awake. Now here's something you may not know about me: I'm addicted to Whole Foods. No, not like 'in general.' The actual store, Whole Foods. I'm quite aware of the fact that it's lame to be addicted to a grocery store. But there it is. I tell you this because the first place I plotted for my day's journey was, yes, the Whole Foods in Chelsea. All other destinations came a distant second on my need-to-visit roster. I'm not going to bore you with the details of the visit itself. Again, I am painfully aware that it will interest absolutely no one reading this blog. (Unless I title it the Whole Foods blog. Hmmmmm.) All you need to know is the food was yummy and I was happy.

Next stop: Avenue Q.

I own the soundtrack. I've forced the songs upon my friends, snuck in between Arcade Fire and Stars on mix cds. Now, it was time for me to see the actual musical. Or so I wistfully imagined as I cantered over to the Broadway theater. Backstory: tickets to this adult muppets show, with songs like "It's ok to be Gay" and "Everyone's a little bit racist" and "What do you do with a BA in English/It sucks to be Me," run $100+ for the crappy seats. But, BUT, they hold a 'lottery' before each show wherein everyone drops their name in a hat and prays and stands around for an hour until they decide it's time to draw, oh, SIX names out of at least 60. I'm starting to sound bitter because I didn't win. Darnitalltohell.

Next stop: MOMA

Aaah, the MOMA. Always a nice retreat for me when I'm in the big city. It's like my art spa. Nothing but the big time at the MOMA. You don't have to wonder about the value or importance of any of the art you're viewing. It's all important and will all be written about in art history books forever. You just look and mentally file away the images as reference points for later reading. Over the ticket counter? An enormous Miro. What greets you right when you walk up the stairs? A Monet that is at least 4 times my size. Fantastic. Plus, the building is all spanking new. And it's spacious. Their placement of a lot of the art is dead on good. For instance, the Miro at the ticket counter is a bit forgettable when you're looking at it from the main level, but when you're on the second level and you casually look down at the lobby- way more enjoyable. I hit the contemporary galleries first, because that's my thang. Next, I wound my way up to the design exhibit, where selected everyday items were chosen for their exemplary design. For instance, the iPod, and Leggos, and a Swatch. Which personally, I think is fun, especially in the context that they're sharing the same space and being brought to the same level as Starry Night and Disintegration of the Persistence of Memory. Then, it was on to photography. I had just begun my journey in these galleries when the went-to-bed-at-7:30 am crew called. They had forced themselves awake and were headed into town. Off I went to meet them at Grand Central.

Why can't cocaine be legal instead of alcohol?

Extemporaneous adventures this weekend abounded. I ended up in NYC at 4 am Saturday morning. With 3 bottles of beer and a glass of wine in me. No, I wasn't driving. I was the backseat dancer, as a matter of fact. However, my weekend trip excitement crashed into backseat drooling before we even got into Connecticut. Darn alcohol as depressant. Aren't they making the stuff with caffeine now? I wonder if that's worth a shot. I woke up in a haze in Brooklyn and was swiftly escorted to a urinal/elevator. (My eyes were telling me it was an elevator, but my nose was telling me a much different story.) But once up in the hostess' apartment, I could see why she lived across the bridge. Her apartment was freaking huge. It was 3 bedrooms for the same price we paid for our 2 bedroom in Jamaica Plain! Work it! Immediately, we were treated to Caipirinhas complete with freshly crushed limes. That cachaca is one alcohol that has the power to defy all dilution attempts, I noticed. Uf. A step down from a sterilizer, really. Perhaps it was the late hour and the hangover I already had that made my tastebuds run and hide under my tongue. I couldn't finish my drink. (No, really.) I blurted out I was going to bed, hastily retreated to the guest room, and promptly fell asleep.

Next thing I know, it's 7:30 am and my boyfriend is barely making his way into to bed. Since this is about my workday wake up time, I, well, wake up and of course can not get back to sleep. So, Hello, New York!

More later...

RELAX

Last night I took the time to catch a truly indie flick, Funny Ha Ha. It was playing in the screening room at Coolidge Corner. Have you visited this new addition to Brookline's indie theater? It's on the second floor tucked away in a corner. You step inside and you instantly feel like you're in some mogul's private viewing room. It's that small, probably about the size of most of our living rooms, but with a screen far bigger than you and I will ever own.

I identified quite a bit with the movie. The main character's life has a few paralells to my own. She's a temp. That's A. And she meanders through her life, a bit confused, unsure where to take herself, no specific career path in mind, hanging out with friends that present themselves, looking for some love. The great quality that separates this movie from most other fare is its r-e-l-a-x-e-d tempo. The scenes feel as if they could've been sliced from the pie of your own life. As opposed to the hyper-focused energy of mainstream movies, where the entire scene will be an excited account of Brad working up the nerve to ask Sally out, or something pointed like that. Rather, there's an organic approach, where people and occurrences depicted plainly exist. The interesting parts of the story bubble up out of them. Nonetheless, the story did have an arc of sorts. The kind of arc you and I find in our own lives. There are points 1, 2, and 3, but all of this other stuff happens in between. The kind of stuff that is mostly mellow and boring, yet finds its way into our minds late at night and provides endless rumination fodder.

The movie, I am more than sure, isn't for everyone. I find I'm drawn to these real-life-tempo movies more than others. And there are some faults with it. Mainly, it coulda used a few more turns on the editing wheel. But it's nice when things don't force themsleves at you. And breathe a bit. And don't try to saturate every pore on your body with ENTERTAINMENT. And speak to you a little. And let you be you, while they be them.

HALLLELUJAH! HELLO! WHERE ARE YOU? WHERE AM I? I'M 30! YOU ARE, TOO? WHEEEEEEEEEE!

I shout it to the winds! I AM NOW 30!

I want to thank everyone who shared probably the most momentous weekend of my life since, well, as far as I can remember (which is saying a lot).

I want to thank the ever dazzling girl crew for finally coaxing me into my floor luging/chair straddling/fan accented interpretive dance.

I want to thank Ann & Ashley for taking those pictures with my phone I found two days after the fact. (Not only taken, but saved as the wallpaper on my phone.)

I want to thank my boyfriend for the impromptu creation (with the circular saw in the basement) of the cricket bat for my destruction of the star pinata.

I want to thank Ann for thoughtfully recycling the pinata as a fashion garment and exhibiting to all what proper party wear should look like.

I want to thank Dabney for taking the most fantastic picture of my interpretive dance. I've already hired her for my wedding.

I want to thank Audrey for flying from sunny LA to giggle at my karaoke singing and suggest I audition for American Idol for all of the wrong reasons.

I want to thank Ashlee & Ann for providing the most harmonious back-up ever heard to Total Eclipse of the Heart.

I want to thank Journey for writing Open Arms. The introduction of my birthday cake wouldn't have been the same without it.

I want to thank Cuba for making cigars with the appropriate subtle hints of chocolate and cherries.

I want to thank my neighborhood for not gawking while tipsy women sashayed about my patio while puffing into the night sky.

I want to thank chocolate for becoming one with mousse and being a part of my cake.

I want to thank Audrey (who really I have no idea how I would've managed without) for making the most tasty sangria complete with a floating cornucopia of fruit.

I want to thank my boyfriend for making THE dance mix. I did not know that teaching you the ways of iTunes the night before my party would result in such miraculous party grooving.

Finally, I want to send out a personal open-ended invite to everyone I know in the Boston area. I have about 40 bottles of beer in my fridge. I think that's at least 5 times my weight in alcohol.

Please drink my beer.

I love you all. Good night.

Sniffle

I can not shake this cold. Nope, can't do it. I'm all amped up due to my impending !30th! birthday. Last night, after watching the COOL RIDER song on GREASE 2, I cleaned the entire front room. I won't be modest. It was a fucking feat. Now, the complete contents of the front room are in the basement. Yes, it's an interesting way to clean, but remember I'm new to all of this cleaning stuff. I was quite proud of my clutter-free living room. Last night, I would make special trips downstairs to lovingly gaze upon it. But now the basement gives me the creeps. Maybe the beau's parents will clean it the next time they visit. Did I just say that? No, I didn't.

What's up with this work I have to do at the office? This is not what I signed up for. I disapprove. I stick my tongue in its general direction. Of course, the week+ trip to Cali may be the cause. But IT'S MY BIRTHDAY (week). There's this Bingo game I'm designing for my party and that is just not going to create itself.

I can't help myself

I was reading someone else's blog and it led me to these lists on McSweeney's. I love them! Some are making me laugh out loud. Here are some of my faves:

Sentences That, If Used by Judges in a Spelling Bee, Would Prove Totally Unhelpful to Contestants Attempting to Derive the Meaning of the Word

Three Items at the Supermarket I See in a New Way, Now That I've Read Some Books on Literary Theory

Things I'd Probably Say If the Bush Administration Were Just a Weekly TV Show and I Were a Regular Viewer

Yo soy suenyo.

I think that means 'I'm a dream,' actually. What I mean to say is I am verrrrrry tired. I'm eyes half closed tired. I'm not able to make sense of what I'm reading tired. I'm apathetic tired. I'm tired tired.

Due to my lack of funds, I was only able to buy 3 things on my trip:

-picture of Frida and Diego for my mom (Mothers Day, natch)
-dainty, swervy metal bracelet
-velvet green sombrero

The last one is the one I'm most excited about. It's going to be my birthday hat. It ended up being my airplane hat, too, though, for the ride home. Sombreros make people smile at you more, I noticed. Probably more of a repressing you-look-really-silly laugh, no doubt. Ah well, I like it. Maybe it's the half Mexican in me. My beau likes it, too. He's a big fan of me in hats. Some guys are like that. They just get so amused seeing their girlfriend with a weird prop on her head. No matter what shop we're in, he'll demand I try on every available hat. Then, he'll look at me. Then, he'll make me look at me. Then, we have to both give our opinion of the hat. Then, we'll look at the price and yell, 'God!' Then, we'll repeat. I always get more weary of the hat trying than he does.

The green sombrero, however, I will be wearing with pride and my own big silly smile.

I'm fading

So I thought I would ramble in my blog to keep myself awake. I am also eating chicken nuggets with ketchup to perhaps provide myself with some metabolic energy.

My vacay was mucho relaxing. Here are the cities we visited:

Los Angeles
Sherman Oaks
Santa Monica
West Hollywood
San Diego
Del Mar
La Jolla
Tijuana
Puerto Nuevo
Ensenada
Tecate
Rosarito

I have a tan on half of my face now. Damn those trendy enormous sunglasses. Here are some of the foods we ate:

Spicy tuna roll
Puerto Nuevo style lobster
Chicken tostadas
Tortilla soup
Yellowtail sashimi
Miso soup
Grilled Mahi Mahi tacos
Baja Fresh chicken burrito
Paella w/scallops, clams, sausage, & chicken
Jerk pork with plantains
Ceviche, fresh on the beach

Awwwww yeah, baby!

If only I had pics. I gotta get back on that picture wagon.

I was just going to post a picture and be done with all blogging for today,

but I can't download the software I need to post pics on the computer here at my new office of employment.

Not So News Flash: I was in Cali & Baja for a week-ish. Now back in not so sunny Boston.
At a desk.
Staring at a computer for 8 hours.
Feeling rushed, rushed, rushed already.