Lofty
Ryland has been doing most of the driving when we're in a rush to our next destination. This could be due to the fact that I'm actually a seventy-five year old woman who hasn't actually had her license taken away. Also, it could be due to earlier today when I drove all the fuck over the Bennington lawn in front of the Fels dorm facility. He doesn't think that the French car can handle it.
We're driving a 1978 Peugeot. I believe that I have forgotten to mention that detail of our trip was that we are driving a completely badass french car with engine problems. We've got it nailed down to a deteriorating gasket but, just like anything car related, you don't always know. Today the car freaked out when we got to Manhatten after we drove though... A tunnel that I cannot recall the name of. The fuel gage read "fucking empty" and so we parked in a parking lot until Ryland assessed the damages. He thought it was a broken fuel line but it turns out it was a burnt out fuse. Yippee.
After that ordeal, we headed over to his friend Thomas's loft in Manhatten, a few blocks from where we were parked. Lisa, R-swizzle, and I went to this forth floor loft to an spoken word/poetry/singing/music/movie showing thing done by all of these really nice people. Everyone took turns performing and Ryland was one of the last to do so before the food intermission. I noted that it wasn't until about fifteen minutes into shmoozing that I realized mostly everyone there were homosexual males. and everyone was incredibly nice. It was a bit surreal because this loft was fucking fantastic. There were wall partitions that doubled as bookshelves filled to the brim (in an orderly fashion) with books. Tons of books!
Jenn, you would poop books for the rest of your life!
This loft was probably five-thouseand for rent, no doubt. It was closer to mid-town Manhattan, which is the more business area of Manhattan.
After that grand time, we headed over to the Surreal Estate in Brooklyn. I felt oddly safe in the area that venue was at. The Surreal Estate is kind of the same deal that Healthy Times has going on where it's a house/collective space (Healthy Times not too much of a collective space). Just like most similar places, it has some interesting colors painted to the walls and art hanging out. There were a few people who lived there who I didn't care much for. One of which was a girl who told me I couldn't go into the kitchen saying that; "We're only having people back here who are helping or live here, even though it looks like a cool hang out here." it was more of the tone she delivered that sentence with rather than the what she said. When I came in with the merch she apologized and said that she didn't realized I was in the band, then I got VI-fucking-P status. I understand off limits areas and such but at least I can be glad that she's treating strangers, that aren't in bands, with kindness.
Dear Aubrey,
Don't be an asshole to strangers that aren't in bands. It's nonsense.
Constructively,
-Kenneth-
P.s. I wouldn't want to be your friend.
She is in the band The Belly Club. She had me cranky for a good five minutes but then my uncle came by and we chatted, I introduced him to Ryland and Lisa, then we went on the roof:
The show was alright. Ryland's set was badass like normal, the band West Dakota rocked some ass, some dude in a plaid shirt was... bad, and the Belly Club was good fun (Old Beasty Boys style hip-hop/YMD). Uncle Russ enjoyed the show more or less.
Ryland is going to skip town for a couple of days to get the car checked out then we're going to eat some Tofurkey on Thursday in Manhattan. I'm presently residing in Park Slope and listening to the Harvey Danger song Pike St. / Park Slope. I'm probably going to jump out and punch the city tomorrow but the way that things are paced right now (it's 5:21), tomorrow may involve me staying inside and doing some laptop business and helping my aunt make cranberry sauce. I've got Tuesday and Wednesday to explore. I'll be back in December anyway, so I'm not to concerned about wasting time. At that point there will be a time crunch.
I've actually spent an absurd amount of time doing computer work. It's funny how much I've been writing people and just in general. Aunt Rose and I stayed up discussing life, England, Africa, cats, depression, dreams, college, nine-eleven stuff, and... Well, stuff. I don't know what led to her wanting to hook me up (not date, but meet) with her friend that writes for Wired. I believe we came upon that through discussing her very sweet/kind burlesque friends and connections. Without saying much, I'll just say that it has to do with a current project of mine.
I realized, per Aunt Rosemary's and mine conversation, that I am actually enjoying waking up in the morning now. Took seven months, eh?
