Thursday, May 13, 2010

Party Reviews: Last Week in Review

Laguardia Place
I walked to NYU's strawberry festival because Showpaper had a booth there. I bumped into Matt Conboy in front of Whole Foods (en route) and he told me that JEFF The Brotherhood was going to play (which is a great vibe) instead of Japanther (which would've been embarrassing for the college). Showpaper wasn't giving away strawberry-themed food for w/e reason so of all of the booths they had the shortest line and lowest interest. However they were totally willing to award band merchandise valued at $60 to one lucky festival attendent so I made a poster for Showpaper advertising that. Later I signed up to donate bone marrow (hope that signature was non-binding/my rampant tuberculosis disqualifies me) and got a free box of strawberry juice. Everyone who ended up watching JEFF The Brotherhood had never attended NYU, except Edan who was dressed like a strawberry.

I went to the Breakfast art opening, which was sort of unofficially a New School/Parsons jaunt. They were projecting student videos but I missed the one by Leia Jospe, so I decidedly wrote the rest off as "not funny enough" and began drinking Natural Light and watching a rotating projector of photos on the other side of the building. Cleaned up at the Swill Children product table.

We walked to Cinders to see the Monica Canilao opening. The opening party was technically over so the storefront was nearly half as crowded as it usually is on opening nights. Sto deejayed some cheesy (compliment!) hits and a cluster 30-year-olds adorned in glitter and feathers started grinding and sweating profusely. Monica Canilao's Cinders transformation was really cool. I shared a room temperature Sapporo that I had bought hours earlier in LIC.

28 Lawton ("Ladies of Lawton")
We zipped back toward my place by way of Josie/Patty/Madison's. They have a cute backyard with a lot of concrete and dead landscaping so we hung out on their patio and made puns. I drank a Blue Moon tallboy but there were a lot of options.

Famous Accountants
Sushi, Cammisa and I walked to Genesis P-Orridge's tag sale in Ridgewood. It was a beautiful day, and the small patio in front of Famous Accountants had the highest concentration of attractive people that we had seen for blocks. The tag sale was in a small white basement that had its own entrance to the street. There were big bottles of Svedka and a few cartons of orange juice and thickly cut ice and cups on a table near the door. Beside it was a rolling projection of home pictures of Genesis and Lady Jane. Genesis was sitting across from it at a little desk, autographing her belongings as nerds bought them up. Most of the items on sale were pre-AIDS era British antiques: big white sunglasses, swinging lamps, chairs sculpted to resemble the hand that feeds you. I couldn't afford anything but if I had been able to I would've bought a Vivienne Westwood flannel dress that had eight caterpillar pockets under the arms. Or one of the more triangular dildos.

28 Lawton ("Ladies of Lawton")
I went to the bbq that Madison/Patty/Josie organized. Josie made this "Mexican corn"-style crack that I ate a lot of even though I have really big problems with my front teeth (corn is significantly more difficult for me to eat in my current state than if I had braces or a retainer or a really complicated grill). The only band I saw was Coasting; it was nice to see them outside in New York in warm weather.

Cedar House
Jason accompanied me to Cedar House, which hadn't picked up yet. Ari was bartending, and I bumped into Shams and Anna Fishgerald. Shams had just been in some sort of fertility ritual that was performed in front of the final deech opening, which I thought made total sense because he's a really important example of what a man could be. Everyone else at the party was really square, clean shoes, manicured hair, silky but conservative tops, like they had all graduated from NYU six years ago and now they live near Penn Station. This made it weirder when the first guy performed; he looked like a bartender from the Levee and sang all this anti-folk that had stupid-but-direct lyrics that I guess were designed to be the chorus of a sing-a-long but were really just jabs at his most recent girlfriend (from maybe two years ago): "I will wreck your life/but a lot more slowly/not like heroin/but much more like booze/I will zap your wallet just like cigarettes/I will weigh your body down like bad cheap food." Clearly he's never done heroin.

Above the Auto Parts Store
I only saw Björk Guðmundsdóttir once, for a moment. She was wearing a silky striped kimono that caught a breeze as she whisked past me, anticipating that I might pursue a big interaction when she's clearly busy. (It's a reasonable assumption because hipsters, who have difficulty controlling themselves to begin with, love Björk more than any other celebrity.) A few hours later one of her assistants tried to pressure me into selling him a bottle of alcohol. I was sweating under my t-shirt and along my hairline, and eventually I gave him detailed directions to the nearest bullet-proof liquor store. Dave Longstreth is my favorite dj from the evening because he just plays world pop music, the night's most unique vibe. Tyondai Braxton, spinning Destiny's Child, deejays just like me.

Silent Barn
After work I went straight to Silent Barn for the big dinner party, celebrating mini deech and Gabby's generosity. Everyone was making dumplings and experimental sushi and there was a bottle of rice vodka to add authenticity. I went to the roof and lounged inflatable-poolside for a while and then I danced with my friends. I dropped a large glass item, allowing jagged parts of it to scatter across the floor, for one of the Barnies to pleasantly sweep up.

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