Friday night I met up with Bobo and Lazarus to go to the Deitch opening. The Liz Renay exhibit was just gorgeous, and we saw Darlinda, Ves, Erin, Joseph and Thain all there. Got to meet the legendary Dirty Martini. The Steven Sprouse show at the other Deitch space literally blew my mind, it was just great. We met up with Liz and went for tacos at La Esquina. I had been up all night on Thursday partying in the East Village, so I was ready for bed and parted with them as they went out in Wburg. I stayed in, played Nintendo (excellently, I might add), ate some painkillers and drank herbal tea. Read in Cabinet magazine about the philosophical and revelatory possibilities of the emotion 'shame'. Passed the fuck out.
Woke up early on Saturday to magickal snow flurries. Had some very good black coffee from California and soy chorizo and burned a lot of Nag Champa. Met up with the ferociously talented VGL Gay Boys to shoot for their very exciting new television show project. They were very funny and they bought me a sandwich. I came home, cleaned the apartment and napped. In the evening Dan came over and we got ready for QxBxRx, which now has a new blog (check it out on the links list). We tried on outfits, drank a 40oz and talked about philosophy. QxBxRx was crazy fun, despite a mild panic attack at the outset (over nothing, really). The VGL Gay Boys were there, we're starting a band (Jeffery Cole Dan Max). Get pumped. Perfect Daniel was there too, living it up. Buddies all around. At one point, I was at the bar ordering my umpteenth free drink, when a twee cover of the Amps' "Tipp City" came on the speakers. I started screaming hysterically over the heads of the crowd looking for Dan. I apologized to Allison Wolfe, into whose face I had unintentionally been screaming, saying "Sorry. I'm trying to find my friend Dan. We're obsessed with Kim Deal." Allison raised an eyebrow and said "Well, I have a Kim Deal story..." and she did, and it was hilarious and involved the Donnas, but I'm not gonna put it here.
Backstage I complained to the other go-go boy that it took too long to wait at the bar for a drink, and since I had only had like nine glasses of gin I felt like I was really in a hurry or something. "Oh I don't even go to the bar," he said "Andrew Martini snuck a little bottle of whiskey over to the DJ booth". Being the GIRL ON THE GO that I am, proceeded to entirely wreck myself on warm whiskey. At some point in the go-going, I started trying like mad to convince everyone else to take off their clothes too. To my complete delight: they did. Got pretty hot and heavy with one of the party's regulars. There's something liberating in going to second base, in public, in your underpants. Unfortunately / hilariously, someone brought a camera. We had a grand old time without our shirts on and everyone made out with everyone else. At the end of the night we headed out to Brooklyn for last call at Metro. Thain, Daniel and I went in a cab that got us lost. I don't really remember what happened because I was blacking out in the back seat, but I know that after about 35 minutes of driving around (not, though, over the Williamsburg bridge, which I think was our first mistake but no one listens to the drunk kid in the back seat), we were dropped off somewhere in Cobble Hill. Daniel sweet-talked our way out of not paying for our lovely cab ride since he didn't actually take us where we needed to go. They managed this conversation while I slunk into a bus stop to fall asleep. I don't remember getting there, but at some point we got onto the G Train, where Thain had to say goodbye. We got (like, finally) to Williamsburg. The people at the Metropolitan wouldn't let me in, since I kept falling over and it was after last call, but I pleaded that I just needed the ATM. Which, now that I think of it, was a lie, I had just gotten paid from go-go dancing and had wads of cash stuffed into my underwear but go figure. The ATM was broken and I stormed off. At some point people on the street started screaming at me, large groups of people, saying "Don't walk on the subway grates! They're slippery!". I looked at the black ice on the sidewalk and have a clear memory of thinking "Well, that's what you say. I'll show them!" Started slipping uncontrollably on the metal grates, careening towards the oncoming traffic on Metropolitan Avenue, and got an insane bruise on my left hip. Daniel scraped me off the sidewalk and we met up with Dan, who has some unwelcome rodents in his house that he'd rather not hang out with. We all piled into a car and came to chez moi, where we drank coconut water and fell into bed.
Woke up, sort of too early. I made a bunch of jokes and having a sleepover with Dan and Daniel, thus making a DANWICH. I still think that's fucking hilarious, but go figure. We went out to brunch at Quantum Leap and had the most hilarious meal I've ever had, ever. Daniel went to the bathroom and came back a few minutes later, very solemnly, saying "I got so into washing my hands that I forgot where I was for a minute." That kind of day, dig? Went home to interview room mates. Patrick and I were completely charmed by our new room mate (for two months, anyway). She is a Parisian fashion student, makes jewelry, has an adorable accent and we're gay and could not stop fawning over her. It remains to be seen whether she passes the real test of room-mate-dom: doing your dishes. Took a much, much needed nap and went back to the city. Ran into the gorgeous Isabelle Payne-Rancier, my favorite designer. We're collaborating on a little thing that you will hopefully like, especially if you're name is La JohnJoseph and you live in England UK. Went to Trader Joe's and bought so many snacks. Had a fabulous time home alone last night, chinese food and the golden globes and reading comic books in bed. What could be better.
I feel exhausted from all that typing about myself.