Begin:A few holiday parties attended this weekend, and other things attended to. Friday, I got to leave work around four, so I met Jen, whom I hadn't seen since before Thanksgiving, and we went over to Cafe Pick Me Up and sat around for a good while, chatting about this and that. We were there for a good two hours, waiting for other people to get out of work. I like that feeling. When Caryn got off of work, she met us there, and we walked over to Sandobe for a meal of raw fish over rice. Eventually James showed up, just as we were finishing. From there, We walked down 1st Ave, leaving Jen and James at the Holiday Cocktail Lounge. I walked with Caryn down to Houston, then head down to Canal Street, to attend the Christmas party hosted by my night time tv-watching job. By the time I got there, fashionably late, most of the people I was interested in talking to were either getting ready to leave or were working that night. So I stood around awkwardly for a while and drank a few beers. I wished I hadn't spent 15 bucks on dinner, because there was a lot of free food. I talked a little bit to some of the people there, and just hurried through my beers. I left after about an hour.
Pretty pretty jenny jen at Cafe Pick Me Up
So I phone James, who was still at the Holiday with Jen, and set out to meet them. My two light beers were actually leaving me a little buzzed. I'd only slept about two hours the night before, having met Connie, the lady percussionist, after the night job on Thursday and staying out way too late. When I got to the Holiday, Jen was outside having a phone conversation. I can only assume it was with her boyfriend. So I sat with James while he talked with this guy who is dealing with one of the same record labels James is, and was very frustrated at the lack of action being taken by said label. It wasn't terribly interesting. So after a good while, Jen came back in, and I innocently asked her if she was ok, and she bit back "No. No, I'm not ok." So I'm guessing she wasn't ok. I haven't talked to her since then, so I'm not really sure what went down or how it was resolved. So she left and it was down to me and James. He noticed after a few minutes that the gentleman sitting in the booth behind me was Stephen Merritt, the lead singer of the band the Magnetic Fields. I was wondering why people were crowding around the booth taking pictures. I was also wondering why there were a lot more gay guys in the bar than I remember there ever being. His presence explained both. I wanted to ask him if he really was the "happiest guy on the Lower East Side," but I thought it'd be, pardon my French, pretty gay. Anyway, he looked pretty drunk and not at all as sensitive and pensive as he does in the magazine shots. Anyway, I'm not 100% sure it was him. But it certainly looked and sounded like a duck. Eventually James' girlfriend showed up, as we were leaving. I thought I'd head home, and talked with Jen K. on the way and tried to convince her to hang out, to no avail.
When I got home that night, no one else was home. As I was making myself some ice tea, I heard a door creeking in the back of the apartment. And slowly I convinced myself that there was somebody in the apartment, hiding out, waiting. So I ended up scaring the bejeezus out of myself every time i heard a noise. I ran out onto the stoop and called Caryn, who was completly unhelpful, offering irony-laced sentiments like "Oh, you'll be fine. There's no one in your apartment." So I darted back inside, ran into my room, and locked the door. About five minutes later, I really had to go to the bathroom, so I braved the potential consequences and went into the bathroom. Just then the phone rang, and I stood in the bathroom, listening to the message. I was waiting for one of two things: Either 1) Someone yanking the phone out of the wall, or 2) a "Scream"-like voice saying "There's no one to call now!" or "Guess where I'm calling from" or something like that. Instead, it was Jen K, returning my call. I knew she'd be calling, but still... Anyway, I went into the living room, having been lulled into the classic false-sense of security. That's the way it always happens. You think something terrible is going to happen, then it's just a cat or racoon, and you let out the sigh of relief, and then, *blammo*, yer dead. Anyway, she said she'd called right after I got on the train, thinking we should hang out or something. Typical. We talked for while, then I went to bed.
On Saturday, I dragged my ass to the gym right after getting up, around 2 pm, then bummed around the house, cleaning up, doing computer things, and watching tv. In the evening, we all went down to Matt's apartment for a little holiday party. Matt had the placed festooned with various sized nutcrackers, stockings, candles, and a little Christmas garland with ribbons hot-glue-gunned above the fireplace. He tempered this with "By the way, I'm straight." There was a wide mix of people there, and all in all a good time was had. I have pictures to prove it, taken with the new digital camera. We went to Great Lakes once the party wound down to a core group of about 10 people. Somehow I managed to spend too much money even though I was only there for a little while. But Matt laid out a nice spread, with plenty of salty snacks. And some fish. Fish is always good. No egg nog though. But good fish.
Kelly, Caryn, and Nate. Note the stockings on the radiator
Me and James, aka Jimmylos
Matt and "TP" in Great Lakes. I'm not sure what's going on.
Woke up around 11 on Sunday, called Jen K. to see if she wanted to go see the Royal Tenenbaums. She was asleep, so I plopped down in bed and was awoken about three hours later when she finally woke up. She'd had a somewhat crazy night that ended at a strip club in Queensborough plaza. Got a call from the percussionist shortly after that. She had a drumming gig at CBGB, and I told her I'd try to stop by. After killing 5-6 hours in my apartment, I headed into the city. There was a five dollar cover at the door, but I figured I'd made the trip so i might as well go in. Connie said she was playing with some girl named Dawn. I thought that'd make a good band name, "Some Girl Named Dawn." But it was just plain Dawn. Dawn was fairly talented, and had a really good voice. Unfortunately, she'll probably never make it big unless Jewel and/or Fiona Apple die. Her voice was great, but there's nothing terribly unique about it. But she was shy and cute which made it all somewhat charming, in a girl-with-guitar way. Which goes a long way for me. Anyway, Connie was asked play a bare-bones, beat-keeping style, so I didn't get to see how good a drummer she really was. Though I suppose you could say it's a mark of talent to keep things interesting when you're not really able to do much.
After helping her break down her drum set, we walked fairly far uptown and east, to a bar called Barmacy, on 14th st. I thought I'd been there before, but I wasn't sure when. It's owned by the some guy who runs the Beauty bar, which is an old hair salon turned into a bar. And as you may have guessed, Barmacy is decked out like a pharmacy. Or apothecary. Anyway, she's tight with the manager of the place, so he gave us several free drink tickets. I didn't know they actually gave tickets. But it was a nice little benefit of the company for the evening. So we hung out for a while, had a few drinks, played some pinball and some trivia on the MegaTouch thingy, and took a cab back to Brooklyn.
So today in the office, there was a Christmas, or Holiday, party for the children of employees. James had been tapped to play Santa. The whole thing was hilarious. He came in and did this awful belly-laugh "Ho ho ho!" and had all the kids sit in his lap. Disturbing.
James as Jolly Old Father Christmas
After the party, a little girl and her dad were walking by. A short transcript of a conversation they had:
Little girl said something about santa not kissing her
Dad: "He didn't kiss you?"
girl: "no..."
Dad: "That's good."
I found this hilarious. James found it troubling. And a little insulting.
Lastly, Finally heard from Jen in DC today. About time. I was starting to get worried.
