Christian Raphael

I've come out of semi-retirement to cover a shit ton of shifts and work, work, work. Yesterday was my first day off in a bit and it was utterly perfect. I rolled out of bed, made myself some coffee on the rocks and ate half a waffle. Already, I was off on a great start. After some corresponding with Chainsaw, we decided it would be in our best interest to go shopping. We hit up SoHo where I bought a nifty skirt and short overalls (yes, it did happen). We then ate amazing cheeseburgers, fries, fried pickles and drank one cider each. It was ravishing. I had to go to the bathroom after this so I stood in line and had a most pleasant conversation with a man who was waiting on a veggie burger. Delightful. Since the weather was most agreeable, we walked the Williamsburg Bridge back to the BK. I think the walk helped to settle my stomach but the sun unfortunately further cooked Chainsaw's food causing some minor aches. Once back in our borough, we decided that there is nothing better than sitting on a boat, so that we did. We took our first ride on the new East River ferry line. So relaxing! Post-waves, we sat in Muffin and people watched for around an hour and then we went to the waterfront to gaze into the water. At the waterfront, we were fortunate to meet Christian Raphael. He seemed very reminiscent of "Midnight in Paris" (which you must see if you have not)-a soul from a different time. It is VERY hard to describe Christian Raphael. First off, we are not sure if that is his real name. But we saw him, a manorexic artist fellow, with large, wild gestures, sitting in front of us. His drawings were flying away so I ran after them. He came over and joined us. He was nuts. And we loved him. He told us how breathing is important. How he wants to open an orphanage and have six children breathe in synchronicity. How remembering to breathe will help to fight toxins and negative thinking. He walks around yelling "nice tits!" at ladies. The ladies always say thanks because they only want to hear the good, they are egotistical. He is here illegally. For three years he was married into the richest family in America then he went homeless. He likes to take long soaks. His favorite artist is J Dilla. He also is a big fan of DJ Premier. He got arrested Friday night in the hopes of getting the attention of his love. He believes that honesty is the best policy. When the cops asked him what drugs he had on him, he straight up told him, cocaine, ecstasy, marijuana and heroin. He was released within an hour and a half. He hardly checks his phone. At one point, he went over to strangers and came back with a Stella. He never pays for anything anymore. He believes in paying the homeless. At one point, he called over the park workers. Chainsaw and I were freaking that his open bottle would get us in trouble. Nope. The park dudes are his "brothers". He gave them a blunt. There is no way to accurately describe this dude or what went down on this night. This all may sound nuts, but he did have points. About giving back and not thinking and remembering to breathe and trusting in oneself and to never feel guilty and the list goes on. My breathing has definitely improved since meeting this guy and my mind is quite clear. It was pretty fun times not going to lie. Maybe that makes me nuts too.

V.I.B.S.

Terrifying and so not cool; a jewelry store clerk got shot in the stomach in broad daylight near me the other day.  Shooting people is so not cool. I was trying to think, maybe getting shot in the stomach would not be quite as terrible as other spots depending on what one eats? That obviously makes no sense but I was trying to make light of the situation. My roommate totally shot down this idea. She said that getting shot in the stomach would suck, especially for me because I already have IBS (irritable bowl syndrome). Ah!!! We decided that if I was to get shot in the stomach I would no longer just have the terrible IBS, I would know have VIBS (very irritable bowl syndrome) which sounds much worse. Not cool. If you really feel the need to commit a robbery, may I suggest asking politely for the goods? Not shooting? Just does not seem very nice to me or good on the body.

There's No Beach in Harlem

Charlie and I were feeling adventurous so we chose hit up the much talked about Rockaway Beach instead of heading to our go-to, Coney Island. The Rockaways are in Queens. To get there, one must take the A train heading towards Brooklyn and get off at 116th Street. I knew this, yet I disregarded this because I had trouble arguing with Charlie's logic: We need to take the A uptown. Queens is up. Well, I'm am an idiot for keeping my mouth shut, this much is true. It was when we hit 125th Street in Harlem that we realized that we were headed in the wrong direction. THERE IS NO BEACH IN HARLEM. 


Two hours later (mind you, we were already almost an hour in), we FINALLY made it. The beach was worth the three hour trek. For one, there was a most glorious male lifeguard, a Jesus-esque type of dude. We were very excited about seeing him walk on water and thought about fake drowning but decided it may not be the best idea. There was also a guy who must have been a male model, hey now, sporting a speedo, who just STOOD in front of us and posed for the entire time we were there. It was quite hilarious to say the least. Then there was the topless chick. Hey, more power to you for having the guts to show the chest. But, it seemed especially strange because her friend was wearing a super modest one piece suit. My roommate told me she was at a bbq on the 4th of July and there were two people there were just completely naked but everyone else was fully clothed. Ummm....Anyway. Also at the beach, were two ladies who were walking around trying to find the six year-old they lost. This lasted the entire time we were there as well. We kept seeing the ladies walk back and forth sans child. Not good ladies, not good. The beach was also delightful because I realized I really am digging on the pigeon, yes, the bird. People compare them to flying rats but I think they are pretty swell. I can be sitting on the beach, just maxing out, when a pigeon will swoop in out of nowhere and just start kicking it. I really like the way their necks move, very funky town, and I think they mate for life. That may not be true, but we can pretend.


Charlie and I found the beach to be so spectacular that we tried to go again two days later. It still took us around an hour and a half even though we figured out the proper route. The A train was being quite disagreeable. "Get off here and wait for the next A train". This type of thing would happen. Three trains and a shuttle. By the time we got there, we only had time to sit/observe/wave it up for around an hour and a half because we both had to head to work. I ran into my landlord's son there too. Kind of weird. As much as I like the beach, I'm starting to dread the beach. Which is too bad because I definitely made plans to go there this coming weekend. Ah, c'est la vie. Life's a beach? 

Horoscopes!

I read them every day and I make the same stupid wish every night at 11:11. Yet, where are the results? Though, I am VERY happy to say that Elle.com predicted both July 11th and 25th to be off days and both WERE! This is exciting! It is right about something!! Unless....and I dread to even think this....but maybe every day is an off day?! Oh brother...

Weird Dreams

I have a lot of weird dreams.


There was a period from February until June where I had a weird dream EVERY night! My subconscious was truly working overtime to say the least.


A couple of weeks ago I had a very intense dream where I was making out with a dude and my parents kept walking in. Since I didn't want them watching me, dude and I rolled from a bench/couch thing to the floor to roll around. They could still see us though. My Mom even thought it would be cool to ask if we were waxing the floor. Aah. Meanwhile, this girl I have not seen in MONTHS whom I met in dance class is telling me how she is a writer, blah, blah, how cool is that?! And Evan from Music Hall is texting me nonstop to sell merchandise. It was a very intense dream. Lots of concrete and carpet were also involved. Some details have been left out for the audience's greater good. 


The other night, I had a dream where SO many fluffy, soft animals were sitting on my face. It was very strange. But I think I had this dream because my soft as a cloud blanket had been pulled up to my chin and my pillow pet sheep, Axl, had been laying nearby. The dream took place in many different places including a weird carnival with my friend's parents. I told all of the animals that I'd take them in once my landlords let me.


Ah, then I had a small dream about cats. I was talking to the cats about how once again, I'd take them in once my landlords allowed. Then somehow the cats were small and wrapped up in gift wrap and I was carrying them around in a bag. Thankfully this situation did not harm the animals.


Jesus. Even in my dreams I'm a crazy cat lady.

Band Reviews Sometimes Happen

Heartless Bastards at Mercury Lounge: http://houselist.bowerypresents.com/2011/07/25/26011/


WU LYF at Mercury Lounge: http://houselist.bowerypresents.com/2011/07/25/a-sold-out-crowd-savors-wu-lyf/

Preview of Carney at Bowery Ballroom: http://houselist.bowerypresents.com/2011/07/21/see-carney-next-monday-at-the-bowery-ballroom/

Darwin Deez at Bowery: http://houselist.bowerypresents.com/2011/07/18/dancing-with-darwin-deez/

The Postelles at Mercury Lounge: http://houselist.bowerypresents.com/2011/06/09/the-postelles-leave-them-wanting-more/

Portugal. The Man at Webster Hall: http://houselist.bowerypresents.com/2011/06/06/portugal-the-man-plays-biggest-show-to-date/


Atmosphere at Terminal 5: http://houselist.bowerypresents.com/2011/04/27/we-are-family/

Blaaaaaaah

I'm in a pretty shitty mood today and I don't think it's the heat. I want to punch throats BIG TIME. Instead, I just ate a granola bar with sunflower seeds in it and now my throat is completely itchy. I didn't realize the g-bar had the seeds when I bought them but this is the third one I've had and my throat has been itchy afterwards every time. I know that I shouldn't eat the bars, but they taste like peanut brittle and sometimes I want to eat a snack. So what's a girl to do?


I got my nails done today in an attempt to relax and also become a lady. The nail salon experience is always semi-relaxing except if I let myself think about how unsanitary everything probably is. As a former germ phob, I sort of tell myself that I have to do it, to power through! That it shows that I've come a long way since the times when I'd catch a near heart attack if asked "can I have a bite of that?" Today however, I was chillen out there when all of a sudden the smell of noodles hits my nostrils. One of the worker ladies is shoving food down her throat at the drying station. Then she tears a piece of a newspaper and spits noodles into it. Next thing you know, everyone is eating. Water is being boiled, dumplings and noodles everywhere! And then I took notice of the flies buzzing around. Oh brother. Nice, relaxing, clean thing to do before work. Ah, yeah....


Speaking of aah, yeah, my cab ride home last night, definitely ah, yeah-ish. As soon as I get in the car, the driver is opening right up about his life and family and asking me about mine. EVERY SINGLE TIME. The cab driver is so caught up in our heart-to-heart that he completely misses my exit and we end up lost in Queens...for a while....and are asking random guys in alleys how to get to McGuinness Boulevard. Um, really?! Of course my cab fare has skyrocketed from its normal price due to our lengthy detour. The driver tells me to deduct whatever I deem fair because "the conversation was worth more than the money." OH BROTHER. This makes me feel bad and I end up forking over more money. Whatever. 

Pinguinos!

CT/Sailors/MA and back! This is a long one, brace yourself.

The last couple of weeks have consisted of old friends, traveling during the wee hours and lots of nauticalism. 


It all began around dawn on June the 26th. I didn't even have to set my alarm. I just rolled over, checked the time, 6 am, got out of bed and took off. Three hours of non-sleep seemed sufficient.  Those around me on the subway appeared to be tired and sluggish. I too was tired but ready for action. I was on the Metro North Railroad by 7:30. A large moth resembling a bat was flying around the car wildly but no one seemed to notice. I was off to see my dear friend Cassie aka Cash $ aka BIRD. Bird was taking a break from Menance Beach, CA to get back to her roots on the Beast Coast. Of course, I got off one stop before I was supposed to and she was lost on the way to get me at the right stop. I had made the mental note that there are TWO stops in New Haven and that I was supposed to get off at the LAST stop. Evidently I totally disregarded this. We finally met up so that's what matters.  And then, we were off! We were driving the hour to New London to catch a ferry to Block Island!


The last time I had been to Block Island was with Cassie and her family six years ago. I had just turned 21 and Cash, being a couple months younger, suffered watching her mom and I sling back Mudslides. Best Mudslides in North America, I'm tellin' ya! This was also the last time I tried to ride a bike. I think that I have post traumatic stress from seeing my bro fly over the handle bars and cracking his head open when we were younger. I've seriously learned how to ride multiple times. Well, on this occasion, Mrs. C was holding onto the back of my bike and then she let go. I crashed and yelled "you said you weren't going to let go!" I have not tried mounting a bike since. Also, fun fact: Christopher Walken is rumored to live year-round on this little mass of land off the coast of Rhode Island.


Anyway, that was then, this is now. Bird and I get to New London and hop on the ferry. Basically, by 11:30am, I've been on a subway, commuter rail, in a car and am now about to hit up the ocean. Bird and I decided to make this a sort of New England Bar Crawl. We began on the ferry, by drinking one Bloody Mary each. Shit was quite spicy and we had to keep airing out our tongues as if we were dogs. Once on land, we hit up the little shops and wandered over hill and mole in search of fried food and drinks. At our first destination, I got a lobstah roll and super delicious sweet potato fries. We then took a "short cut" aka fought our way though an unmarked zone which involved water, beach and high ferns, in order to reach the golden ticket, the Mudslide. The bartender almost didn't serve me as a result of my expired license. We thought of the irony in me having to watch Cassie drink this time. Thankfully, after asking if I was a cop, the bartender served me. Cash and I put some awful songs on the jukebox and wondered if there was anything better than sipping on     pure deliciousness, listening to bad jams and gazing at the ocean. Probably not. We made our rounds back to the main part of town, bought ourselves hats, and sat down for mozzarella sticks and clam cakes, waiting for the ferry ride to bring us back to reality.


Within the first few minutes of being on the ferry, it was proven as it often is, that we can get away with saying anything. Not even an arm's distance away, was this couple composed of a BITCHY girl and her boyfriend who could evidently care less. Cassie and I were talking, not whispering, about how awful she is, when she turns to us and asks if we can take a picture of her and her boyfriend aka bitch. The rest of the ride was pretty strange but let's just not get into it.


So, we're back in Connecticut around 11pm. Since, we've only had two drinks, we decided our bar crawl is not over. We were determined to make the trek to the Griswold Inn in Essex also known as the WEIRDEST PLACE EVER. Please recall my entry from the winter regarding coming here in elf attire and dancing with legit 80 year-old men. Getting there was a challenge. The car's GPS system kept saying "turn right" and then a full minute later "in three miles." Ah, really?! But we kept on because we were really excited to get there for :

The Jovial Crew

"Sea Chanteys Tonight" reads the banner that flies above The Griswold Inn every Monday.  The Jovial Crew brings our Tap Room to life with this old seafaring tradition, extremely popular today.  "Jovial Crew" is a good description for both performers andpatrons, a very spirited bunch!

Well, the Sea Chanteys did NOT disappoint. A trio of old sailors rocking flip flops and singing perverted sailor songs that EVERYONE  in the PACKED crowd sang along with. WHAT ARE THESE SONGS?! HOW DOES EVERYONE KNOW ALL OF THE LYRICS?! WHY ARE PEOPLE SHOUTING "SHOW US YOUR TITS!"? WHY ARE THERE SO MANY FLIP FLOPS AND POOR SHOE CHOICES?! WHY IS THERE A COUPLE HAND CUFFED TOGETHER?! WHY ARE THE GIRLS IN HERE ROCKING SPORTS BRAS AS IF THEY CAME RIGHT FROM THE GYM?! WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE?! WHERE DO THEY COME FROM!? DO THEY LIVE IN TOWN?! HOW DO THEY KNOW THIS EXISTS?! Bird and I had one Sam Summers each before the exhaustion from a long day of WTF gave in and we were forced to head home.  

The following day had us maxin' at Cassie's parents' new summer home, located around ten minutes from their REAL home. We watched as Shamus, their yellow dog, bobbed around in the water, and we ate around three meals before twelve noon. Then we headed back to the city. Bird and I separated for a bit but met up the next day on you guessed it, a ship. We hit up the Frying Pan on Pier 66 for some drinks and for me, a cheeseburger. Hey, I like to eat. Two drinks in plus rockin' boat can definitely create "oh i'm wasted!" a lot sooner than usual. The place is pretty rad until the crowd spills in. So many khakis!!! Ah!

Bird and I hung out a couple more times. My IBS pretty much hated me by the end of her visit. On that Thursday, I went to work, got home, slept for a minute and was off again! This time to Massachusetts to visit my family. Since it was the weekend before the 4th of July, the trains were crazy expensive and most of the good bus times were booked solid, so I opted for a 7:10am bus headed to Providence. I rushed out of my apartment, sporting my fake Keds aka Feds. I know these bad larrys weren't in the best of shape, but did not realize that there was a legit hole in the right sole. Lame nuts. I'm running around the city, my delicate foot literally hitting pavement which people have probably peed on. Sick. I figured I'd have time to grab a bite when I got closer to where the bus departs from aka a sketchy parking lot on the west side of 9th Avenue. The line is nutter butters by the time I arrive so I convince myself that I can remain foodless for a few hours. Of course, the bus does not show up until 8am. I am exhausted,  standing in the heat for an hour miserably staring at the Dunkin Donuts across the street. At one point during this wait, the guy behind me tries his luck with a MegaBus worker. He came back reporting that they don't know where the driver is. How convenient! Well, we finally board and I'm keeping it together, happy to be sitting. And then, almost immediately, we run into a little thing called TRAFFIC. Perhaps if we had left ON TIME this would not have been such an issue!! The bus, projected to arrive at 10:30am in Providence, rolls in around 12:30. Thankfully, my parents greeted me with both hugs and snacks. 

The rest of the trip was divine. My first night in town, my parents and I hit up a Paw Sox game. We had a lovely meal of franks and funnel cake washed down with Heineken. Can't beat such grub at a game. There were kids sitting behind us with serious cartoon laughs which upon hearing, sent my mom, The Blond Bombshell, into her own fit of laughter. The Paw Sox were crushed and I thought about writing them a letter saying that I still enjoyed the game despite the pathetic score. After the game, there were amazing or should I say ABLAZING fireworks! Seriously, the best I've ever seen! 

On the actual 4th, we headed to my uncle's new house on the water in Tiverton.  It was cool because we could see a bunch of fireworks and just straight up fires (??) along the bay. My uncle bought a shit ton of fireworks himself and set them off. They were so close that parts of debris were flying at us, literally hitting us in the face. Kind of frightening. 

Being at home is always relaxing and delightful. I ate a lot of delicious home cooking! Nothing beats food prepared on the grill on a deck. Not a George Foreman but an actual grill! I spent time with my parents on the deck! I rubbed Rag's (nosetackle of the wild/amazing cat) belly! I saw my sister! I played Yahtzee! I got back to my roots, which somehow always involves listening to more hip hop. Katie, my cuzzo/friend, and I spent days rollin' around listening to Bone Crusher. I'm pretty anti-violence but with lyrics like: my gun's my favorite bitch and she's got permanent pms as well as you can think what you want until I blow the back of your brains out and make you think with your front....That dude DOES NOT CARE! Gotta love it. I also saw my Great Aunt Evelyn. She is a sure spitfire and so sprightly especially for being 88! She knows who Beyonce is. She takes care of herself. Most impressively, SHE DOES WHAT SHE WANTS! I decided I should try to be more like Bone Crusher and also my Great Aunt. I feel like I would then be truly unstoppable!!

It was all and all, fantabulous! Thankfully, I got to take Amtrak back which caused less stress. Being back in the city is cool (actually it is HOT) but it is harder relaxing here. Sitting on a deck for hours makes sense in Dighton but here in NYC, I feel lazy or restless. Maybe it is because I don't have a deck? I'm not sure. Whatevs, it is ALL GOOD.