The Wee Democracy

it's a helluva town

so really this entry begins last thursday night, where the airline security of DFW airport failed to spot that i did not take off my belt, nor did they search my bag which contained a pair of handcuffs (long story) that i apparently left in there since my move from austin last august. then, once on the plane, i experience what can only be described as class envy. i see the stewardesses handing out actual rolled up hot towels to the pampered fatcats, and i feel a strong sense of envy at the vastness of their arm and leg room, while i'm cramped into my coach seat, my arms firmly clamped at my sides, making sure that don't become an interloper into other people's coveted seat space.

i caught some shuteye on the plane, lulled into a peaceful bliss by jeff buckley, whom, i might add, was used so righteously in the season finale of the OC. i brought my camera with me on the trip, but mostly just took pictures of stupid things, not new york sigtseeing-y type landmarks.

new york is one of those places where as soon as i get there, i feel out of place, lost in a sea of people too cool for school, and i feel very insecure. i notice that i think about myself alot in the third person while there. this is a habit i consciously try to break as soon as we land. he is not thinking about himself like this anymore. i am not thinking about myself like this anymore. i decide, waiting outside a bathroom in laguardia airport, that i will not be detached from myself anymore.

my sister's place in greenpoint is pretty close to the east river, and if you just looked at her street, it would look like a pretty cool place to live. but manhattan ave., which is just at the end of her street, is pretty sketchy, filled to the rafters with polish stores which sell maps, polish translations of harry potter novels, and eastern european incarnations of playboy, which i am mildly curious to peruse.

her place is somewhat emptier than i remember it, and a little lonelier, but she's got a really cool selection of music to listen to, and she had a recent issue of burn collector ready for me when i got in. rock on, sistah. her friend jill is there, and i will discuss her later, but first, we must eat.

the arrival at anytime, a joint in brooklyn, is a prime example of this whole coolness issue thing. i'm trying to not to revert to my old tricks. he walks into the place and sits down. despite trying desperately to look like he belongs, he cannot hide the fact that he is terribly sad and uncomfortable right now. he is an unwelcome guest. see? it can get pretty easy pretty fast to do that.

I cannot hide my discomfort as i walk into this place. I feel very unwelcome. but this measure towards better mental health really deserves its own entry, so we'll progress with a more thorough recap of the trip.

friday is a good day, as, refreshed, we make our foray into manhattan. despite my utter disdain for the anti-fat fashion industry, i do spot a shirt that i like in a club monaco, and i am indulged. however, the pleasure that i get from this is somewhat lessened a short time later, when, in a diesel jeans store, i cannot even squeeze into a XXL jacket, keeping in mind that the american made jacket i wear now is a regular ol' L. damn italians.

outside though, i am gripped by a sheer sense of blog-oriented excitement as i find ANOTHER toy dinosaur on the street. this is quickly replaced by a sense of utter horror, though, as i look up to see myself about twelve feet from a semi conscious woman lying in the avenue, a foot or two in front of the cab that hit her. her condition remains unknown to me, but i think her mouth was moving. this probably would have affected me more were i not witness about a year and a half ago to a bus-pedestrian collision on UT campus that seemed, at first glance, far worse. and that girl turned out to be a-ok.

dinner at a subpar chinese joint.

friday night am i given too much to drink and smoke at the pencil factory, a very fun little bar in greenpoint, where my sister and i are joined by travis, from work, and her friend jill. travis was cool as hell, and we talked about movies alot, and insecurity, honesty being one of those things that comes far too easily for me once the devil's sauce is poured recklessly down my gullet. jill is nice to a fault. she is completely disarming with her kindness and seemingly geniune interest including me in the conversation. it's like someone who comes up to the great wall you've built up inside your head and just knocks. it's very disturbing. revelations are made while i am completely trashed, and i am finding it very interesting that i have recently made an entry into ye olde blog about adaptation.

saturday is mostly wasted by my mom who spends the better part of the productive day sleeping, then sitting in a salon unisex down the street. leah, jill and i pass that time watching, and very sparingly helping jill make a freakishly good cake and drinking bloody marys and white russians.

bloomingdale's, dinner at va tutto, party at dan's. dan lives in park place, and is giving leah a dvd player, which is, as the french say, fuckin' cool. once again, i am corrupted by this rowdy devil's brigade, and once again, find myself quite the innebriate within a matter of about 90 minutes. but the conversations flow, and i enjoy a healthy discussin of underrated x-men with leah's friend JP. we both remember and love one particular issue of x-factor where the mutants all submit themselves to psych interviews with doc samson. multiple man rocked.

sunday is equally slow going, with only some shopping getting done. dinner is at a place called lavagna, which gives me the best pasta i've ever had. not to mention the irish waitress, who, if i ever move to NY, i will promptly return to lavagna solely to ask her out.

there is a rat in the sewer. my mom and i watch a shitty movie called picnic, after i finish the opposite of sex, which is equally shitty.

all in all, it proved to be another trip where i was dying to be back in my bed in my home with my toys, up until the last day, where i would trade it all to stay in the city.



feeling: clean
thinking of: 24 - dudes and dudettes, that show is off the chain
song of the day: just what i needed - the cars
it doesn't matter where you been, as long as it was deep