Monday, June 9, 2008

Week/End/ W(rap)ped

Friday's LIT release party kicked off what would be a longish weekend for me. The party was great- if you missed it (poor poor you!) The new ish of LIT looks all grown-up and classy. The party was held at a gallery in the Parson's School of Design building where there was plenty of white wine, radishes, grapes, brownies, and limited Coronas.

Heather Christle read her poems and pretty-much had every eye and ear a swooning.

Picked up tacos from La Esquina while walking home and settled into a night of Heroes watching.

Roommate (aka Deep Disco) came home and wanted to go to the Hedi Slimane (ex Dior/ rock n roll photographer guy) after-party. It was 2 blocks away + the last night I'd see my roommate for the rest of the month since she was leaving for Europe on Saturday. So off we went. The space is nice- two huge floors. There was a punk band and open-bar when we arrived which soon turned into a pay bar and dj's djing on both floors. Only two forms of punctuation were allowed at this party: question marks and exclamation marks. There was a lot of standing around, some fawning, some incredulous eyes, some lusty mouths, and a ton of pouting cigarettes. My roommate busted out the body jams to a bunch of 80's jams and I made the "Sorry I'm straight face" as well dressed boys attempted to grove their way in my direction.

We leave.

My roommate packs and cleans.

It's 4am. I try to sleep.

Saturday is H-O-T. V texted to say she was heading over to Governor's Island. We both had mutual friends there for the 1920's Jazz day event. I lack motivation and never catch the ferry. Saturday passes slowly like sticky unwipeable sweat.

5PM Jared's backyard for his bbq. Garden burgers, beer, fiction writers, poets, journalist, and horses running around on the TV screen. Jared (aka Czar Hohl) will be gone all summer. Adam will be in Jamaica for July then moves to Africa in August. Damn what eva will I do? P.S.G.'s on straight summer hiatus.

I make my way to the Fou Magazine party. The editors do their thing. The readers rock- ALL OF THEM. Afterwards, I talk to some poets I know and meet some new poets.

Sunday I get two poems in my inbox from a poet I met at the Fou party. That made me smile.

Sunday was about food for some reason. Sandy was in the Chinatown hood so walked over to 88 Orchard for Iced Soy Lattes, went to Lovely Day for brunch, went to Chinatown Ice Cream Factory, went to Grand Daisy Bakery (formerly Sullivan Bakery) and picked up a baguette then bought avocados from a Chinatown stand, bought vine-ripened tomatoes from Gourmet Garage. I pulled basil from my herb box. I made an avocado, basil, tomato, sea-salt/pepper/thyme-olive-oil sandwich. Ate two of them. They were little.

Went to a bar and watched the finals by myself. Had a couple of Newcastles. Ate fish n chips- by far the most expensive and disappointing meal of the day.

Monday now. Nothing going on. Drinking espresso. Will read. Will return library books. Will look for work. Will work on submissions. Will try not to melt.

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