sirena: (banksy; i'm nothing if not unrealistic)
It is nothing short of pure laziness that has kept me from updating lo these many days. I went to New York over the weekend, O my brothers (and sisters), but I did not snuff it, oh no. If I had snuffed it I would not be here to write what I written have. This is what happened in a nutshell, for the benefit of my future self who will undoubtedly be reading over this eventually, and otherwise would be wishing I had been a bit more thorough.

J and I left on Thursday. I told him I would pick him up so as not to have to leave both our cars at the parking garage. Immediately upon leaving my house at 7:05am, I knew this was a mistake and that I should have told him to meet me there. God decided to grace me with every traffic inconvenience he could throw at me (seriously--I turn down a normally wide-open street and they've held everyone up so that a fleet of construction equipment can slowly cross the street? The hell!), and my the time I pulled up at Jeremy's, I was a seething, frothing, hysterical mess. The rest of the drive I did 80 whenever possible and pulled into the parking garage at exactly 8:35, which is when my train was supposed to be leaving. FORTUNATELY my father was driving said train and held it for me. Totally pays to have connections.

We met Andrew at the Subway, and the within minutes a panhandler in a wheelchair came rolling through the car, his right foot bare, a BIG CHUNK OF FLESH missing from the top of it. Jeremy decided it was Staph, which is going around here in Montgomery County, and afterwards he didn't want to touch anything in New York.

We stayed with Andrew and Kwabena in their little apartment on 110th and Lexington in El Barrio, which is perfectly comfortable for the two of them, but gets a little cramped when Jeremy and I tried squeezing in. Their current setup involves propping mattresses against the wall during the day, laying them down at night. Four of us in this tiny room (which was necessary because of the funky smell in the other room, possibly caused by a dead mouse in the wall). Cozy.

The conference itself in Tribeca was great and is now just a big blur in my head. By Sunday I was feeling a bit burned out and overloaded, and I think Andrew was as well, because he headed back home around noon. J and I wandered around New York for the rest of the day, eventually ending up at Central Park and being utterly blocked by the NYC Marathon. We paid $2 each to cross the street via the subway station, headed north, and ended up eating and the misleadly-named Ollie's Noodle Shop and Grill next to a stereotypically overbearing middle-aged New York woman.

We headed back that night, I stayed over at Jeremy's, and didn't go to work on Monday.

It occurred to me today that it has been a week already since that kamikaze drive to the train station, and I Do Not Like It.

Started reading American Gods. Very good.

Blah, I don't post anymore because I have no drama anymore, and now everything is boring compared to New York.
sirena: (Default)


What is up, my NYC...uh, dudes? I am not quite set to take off to NEW YORK CITY tomorrow for Ye Olde OFFF New York 2007 Festival, but I had better be by 7am tomorrow!

Holy cats. Four days in this massive, beautiful, fascinating, scary city.
sirena: (nils; uncle angus?)
AHhh. So tomorrow I am doing several scary things that I would just as soon not do.

01. Going to DC by my lonesome with no one to act as a buffer in case I do something stupid.
02. Riding the scary metro, and ditto the above.
03. Interviewing for a job I don't even really want all that much, but it pays well and it saves me the trouble of actually going out and finding a job myself (fuck) because I graduate (fuck) on Thursday (fuck).

Thank you, Lord, for John Hodgman.


I just want to go back to New York. :(
sirena: (kate; a homunculus!)
I'll give you the long version later, but the short one is that it was wonderful and fun and I came back with this:


Marty Beller's Drumstick


And Marty is awesome, because he looks like he's just having the best time in a job where he gets to hit things really hard, a lot.

The story goes thusly:
The show ended, and I wanted to stick around for a bit because I never do, and I'd come all the way to New York for this, so I wasn't missing out. The setlists went pretty quickly, and I was afraid I wouldn't get anything cool for my trouble. Marty Beller was out on stage hanging out, I guess, and I leaned onto the stagey thing and shouted, "Hey Marty, is there anything left up there? It's my birthday!"

He said, "Your birthday?... How about a drumstick?"

And I think I giggled like an idiot.

Before he handed it to me, he said, "Are you sure it's your birthday? What's the date?"

And I, like an idiot, had to think about it for a split-second, but he gave it to me anyway.

And that is how I got Marty Beller's Drum stick.
sirena: (banksy; i'm nothing if not unrealistic)
Going to NYC, brb


& happy birthday to me
sirena: (blue beetle; wtf?)
Really quick because I am exhausted, but Dan and I rode up to New York with Dad today and guess who was on the train with us?



That's right. MATTHEW LESKO. Question-mark suit and all (this time it was orange and yellow.)


We walked past him and I said to Dan, "Do you realize what just happened here?"

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