June 25, 2008

the sound and leery

Somewhere on the internet exists some Lastnightsparty.com type photos which I am participating in. I don't know how I feel about that.

I feel like I haven't been home in ages. In reality, since Monday. What have I been doing? I don't know. Yes I do...





a) I'm silkscreening a bunch. It's nice. I sold 4 shirts on Etsy.com. I got really excited when I saw in my inbox a "Hey someone wants to give you money for your wares!" email... and then I found out it was my godmother who bought them. Which is good. It's money either way. But the idea of some anonymous person who isn't just rooting me on because I'm her BFF's kid, appreciating my work and giving me money for it... is more appealing to me? I want my things getting out there in the world. Who doesn't? Art. Egh.

b) Tuesdays hosts this one party at some LES/Chinatown bar. The bar used to be an erotic massage parlor. And now it's a bar/club. You can hang out and dance around in the old steam rooms and the walls are all tiled. Neat. We went to the same place last week and it was just alright. This week was ballin. Wait, no. I didn't just say ballin. Ok, I did. The music was a lot better at least.
I ran into a bunch of Purchase actors. Like 5 of them. Most from my class. They wanted to talk shop. I wanted to dance. It makes me wonder, it does. Instead of socializing, I'd rather do the robot and work up a sweat amongst the masses.

Henry, Simone and I ran downtown to catch the open bar and 2 watered-down vodka cocktails later, it was a flail-fest amongst a crowd of what seemed like a bunch of antsy undead teenagers and at least 2 creepy old dudes who try and grind against every female in the room.
A Peter from Queens says to me, "Girl, I like yo moves." His t-shirt says "easy-e" in white helvetica font against black. I like it. I don't really think anything for Peter though.
We ran around the joint snapping photos and all that. After the open bar was over, Henry wanted to run to the bodega down the street and proceeded to chug a tall-boy on the corner of Broome and Eldridge. The bodega had a sweet cat who appeared very interested in our beverage choices. It wanted to come with us maybe. It wasn't very fat. Usually cats who live in delis or bodegas are very fat. Lot of cold cuts, I think.
As H brown-bagged it on the street, a bunch of gents walk by heading towards the bar. We are snapping funny photos on the street with no abandon. I feel silly. I feel embarrassed. I don't care really. Back in the dance floor stalls, one of them I recognize as the guy who triple-taked, smiles at me. I think I winked.

See, this thing sort of happens when I wear these high-waisted AA hot shorts. I get a lot of male attention. They make me feel like a superhero pinup. That is why I wear them. I am pleased enough with my legs these days to take them out. I am aware it is the "wrong sort of attention."
When I would wear them at Purchase, it was just fun party clothes. I felt a bit safer. But in nyc, with my friends, I think I'm alright. I see much more tastelessly showy attire at Penn Station on a Friday night.

H and S say, "let's go upstairs." I lose them in the crowd and make the faux pas of looking like it. 3x comes up to me, "looking for me?" Funny guy. We chat. He has a photography career and an apartment in the neighborhood. I have a legit ID and a Metrocard. He gives me his card. He has a card. He has a very well-designed card.
I am stricken with the realization that this is what it's like socializing in the real world vs. college. In the real world you exchange cards and contact information, like direct telephone numbers. In college you timidly friend somebody on either Facebook, Myspace, or both and hope you run into them again. Also, people in the real world are less afraid to approach you. And usually the kind who do are the kind who you may want to be wary of. Usually.

c) Henry and I spent the better part of the next morning and afternoon sitting around as extras for a music video shoot for some Leanne Womack song. It was at some LES bar. We sat around for 4 hours or so, taking advantage of craft services and shot a small crowd scene for 40 minutes, whooing at this one boy rock band, lip-synching to the Leanne Womack song. A power ballad. BIZARRE. We received our pay for the day and were out the door, triumphant, antsy and exhausted. A combination which led us to several eateries with friends.

Someone asked me if it made me nervous or I ever worried that people I meeting will think I'm weird.
I told him I assume everyone thinks I'm weird.
It is the success to my sobriety and general social interaction.
He was a chain-smoker.

1 comment:

Simone said...

there's this really nice shot of my CROTCH there.