Des is visiting New York for a few days, and she was part of the reason I rushed out here and popped up so suddenly. Vacationing in New York with nobody to play with during the weekdays? Oh me me, choose me! As it turned out, we didn't actually hang out all that much. Our first day in the city was a marathon. Chinatown for Taiwanese breakfast at two, mid-afternoon sangria followed by karaoke, then I split from them as they went to a beer garden and I went to a book thing. Then we followed up with Susan Sarandon's ping pong bar, SPiN Galactic. And finally a clean up session for late night Korean food.
Thing was, it was only midnight and we were dones. Also, hanging out in New York necessitates a whole lot of drinking. I can't go from zero percent to three mid-afternoon drinks so soon. It just made me sleepy. Luckily the cure for any sleepyness is karaoke, and this new place we went to dished out the songs via iPad and had a ton of current stuff. Yes, even some Frank Ocean -- which JMZ performed quite credibly. "I think I started something / I got what I wanted / did didn't I can't feel nothing."
But the first day's lesson was that going ten hours in the city is freaking exhausting. All the noises, the people, the physical act of walking up and down stairs, of being hot, then hotter, and just all of it. I do this every time I come back, the adjustment. But this time was rougher than most, because I think I've been away for too long. I've been a hermit in San Diego for almost a year, I can't handle this much stimulation.
Friday was a late start, as poor Des had to wait for me and JMZ to gear up. If I was on my normal NY schedule, I wouldn't even head into the city until 9 PM or later. But she was ready and prepped to go at noon. In the end we settling on a compromise of meeting at five for an eating tour of Soho. Which stopped after two locations -- meatball parm rolls and Cuban corn -- because while the sandwiches at Parm were amazing, they were bigger than anticipated. No stomach for lobster rolls, or even dessert!
We parted ways as she went to go fancy rooftop drinking on the Upper East and I hoofed it over to Chelsea to meet some people. They were eating tapas so naturally I had to try a few bites. After a jaunt through Chelsea Markets for tiramisu making items -- my friend was making it for her Sunday pig roast -- we settled into a Chinatown alley for Malaysian. At the table behind us, someone was talking about how his friend was a postmodern belly dancer. Yeah, exactly.
The rest of the night ended up being my impromptu birthday celebration because the fact it was my birthday pretty much was sprung on everyone. They were nice enough to insist on celebrating me, which was very big of them as I popped up in New York out of nowhere and didn't even inform them I was here until that day. Thank you friends, for your consideration. Clearly I lack basic human values and like to guerilla guilt people into celebrating. Anyhow, part of their niceness was hitting up an Italian dessert place that dropped like eight different desserts on us, which was +3 more than we had people. Won't complain about that.
The only thing I had wanted to do for my birthday was go find some music and dance, but that proved harder than imagined. The only places I knew were from a year and a half ago and you know that's outdated info. We ended up at a place that was filled with absolutely the wrong crowd, and then went to a place that had the right crowd but the harshest rap currently out there -- none of which we knew -- which was regardless fun to dance to for a sec. A quick getaway meant we met up with my cousin and her boyfriend who is also cousins with my good friend and so on and so on.
Then we karaoked until late/early. They had "Gangam Style." I requested my friend sing "Save the Best" for last, and three hours later it was a wrap. JMZ and Jenn have a car in New York so the whole experience of being in the city is a bit different. Sitting in a car makes New York seem much less New Yorky. High marks for convenience though. Driving home at dawn is a heck of a lot easier. Especially if JMZ is doing the driving.
Saturday I woke up with the back of my jaw area completely swollen. I seriously thought it was from too much karaoke. I'd never had this before and my face looked like it had gained thirty pounds. Turning one year older really did make a big difference this time. After some research, it was determined that I just had swollen lymph nodes. It could mean that I was getting sick but outside of being tired, I felt perfectly fine. More karaoke! Actually, I did go to karaoke again a few hours later, but I refrained from participating because, well, because.
This recap is going nowhere. It should end soon. Suffice to say, Saturday was spent crawling around at some more bars, after a freak tornado blistered through Brooklyn (and nicely cleared the humidity and the streets), and we ended the night at a tucked in bar filled with beautiful black people. I know what that sounds like but it's exactly what I mean. It was like when you read about 1940's Harlem. Only instead of jazz, it was incredible hip hop. Even though it was a very slow night, people were dressed so stylishly, and the crowd was just so damn good looking. I was like, "Where are we?" Chelsea, of all places.
And at the very end, my friend was accosted by the cutest Puerto Rican dude, who was trying to play it off like he didn't ever talk to girls but you don't get to just stand here at our booth for thirty minutes talking to a girl and also protest that you never do it. Puerto Rican Ken, complete with accent, was twenty one -- he showed us his ID -- and I was hoping for a How Stella Got Her Groove Back story. Alas, probably not. I need to return to this bar though, because the music is so damn good. And when a certain spazzy friend hits NY, I know just where to bring her. It's going to be my opening salvo in the campaign to move her out here.
While I was sitting down talking to my friend, a girl walked by and literally fondled my ear/ring. I didn't even react I was so shocked. I don't know if you know this but there's this whole online thing with testimonials about AMBW couples. Actual videos where black women talk about how wonderful their Asian boyfriends and husbands are. Like this is real life. My friend just told me about it the night before, and I had spent some of my afternoon Googling this phenomenon. The common factor seems to be anime. And asserting/defending the masculinity of Asian men. It's really something. You can decide how to feel about it yourself.
Sunday we went to a pig roast. And I had $7 rice pudding. Outrageous. The pricing, and the extravagantly durable packaging it came in. It was pretty delicious though.
Sunday we went to a pig roast. And I had $7 rice pudding. Outrageous. The pricing, and the extravagantly durable packaging it came in. It was pretty delicious though.
Tomorrow I need to get my life back together. My computering has been neglected and I'm behind on everything. My life can't handle this much activity, it's too much.
Oh yeah, Fun's "We Are Young" is the new official karaoke closer. No debate. And please, no more Journey, ever.
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