I'm extremely thrown off because I traveled through the time warp of going from the West coast to the East Coast, it's the closest I'm probably going to get to time travel besides watching a "Back to the Future" marathon... I sort of semi-conciously slept three hours before my flight and then did that awkward middle seat slumber on the board ...you know the drill...you're stuck between two strangers [one hipster chick who thought it was appropriate to have a garlic humus pita for breakfast on a 7 am flight, its not. It's totally disrespectful to your fellow passenger.] and your average white guy [who pretty much minds his own business, besides making you physically get up and stand in the aisle when he has to go pee just as you're getting comfortable] AND so you're forced into a slightly reclined position with a shitty neck pillow and in my case an absolutely amazing lavender filled eyemask, because yea I am that high maintanence (the situation requires you to be) AND you're trying not to fart on the person to your left while trying not to snore/drool to the person on your right BUT at the same time you don't really give a fuck because you're the MIDDLE seat. So you're in this less than ideal sleeping situation and just as you start to doze someone starts incessantly pressing their call button (and it better not be for a new vomit bag, I know they say don't use the bathroom to puke your guts out in but if you're on my flight YOU fucking BETTER! I do not want you to vomit into an elementary school sized lunch bag in my vicinity) and then you kind of just let that fade into the background and you're snoozing again and then your fucking hand falls asleep. Fuck you hand! There's not a lot I can do with you. I'm trying to keep it cute by clasping them together and one falls asleep and then the other and so on and so forth until the flight attendant is harassing you to turn off your ipod and brace for impact aka land.
So...LONG STORY kept long...I'm in NYC from SF...I'm watching a highly entertaining rerun of SNL and starting to get drowsy, which is alright since I have a decent (firm but decent) daybed to sleep on. So as I'm getting drowsy a very timely Lunesta sleep aid commercial comes on, now I know these commercials are nothing new but what is new to me is how creepy that toxic green glowing moth is that they use as their mascot. Maybe it's just me, but does anyone else want this weird ass creature to brush over them and put them to sleep? Aren't moths of that nature the basis of psychological thrillers (mothman prophecies anyone? You thought Richard Geere had issues in "Pretty Woman" you have to watch that shit). I prefer to take codene based medications, smoke a bowl or drink myself into a dreamy stupor...NOT use a potentially addictive moth branded sleep aid. And that's my little rant of the evening.
Besides that I had a thoroughly jampacked day in Manhattan, my dad is the perma-tourist, he's lived here for apx. 3 years but still treats it as though he only has limited time to visit all the cities museums. So we had the pleasure of going as a family to the Jewish museum (with all of our ghostly pale complexions, blonde hair and blue eyes they were probably hopeful for a large donation due to our German guilt, we have it even though our ancestors are quakers meaning they're down to fight anyone's cause. Got an injustice going on? we're your people) for the "Harry Houidini" Exhibit. It basically consisted of some photos and old timey circus posters but also a brilliant art instillation by some jackass artist that re-created Houdinni's coffin in some sort of expenisve plastic, got a bunch of freaky ass looking pigeons that looked like they had feather boas* on [*see jacobin pigeon, they're weird as fuck] and let them run around and shit all over the faux coffin. This was apparently to show nature taking over when you are in a post-humous state, regardless of your fame in life...yeah okay but what I'd really like to know is how much that asshole got paid to come up with an instillation of a bunch of birds shitting and pecking at each other in a room for money?? We're not at the MOMA, I expect the good Jewish people to be a little more wise with who they hand out their cash to. But we're in New York so if you call it art, I suppose it is.
After a full day of family fun I topped off my evening with a trip to Brooklyn to enjoy some quality time with my dear friend Elah (I decided I'm going to take the safe approach and change names since it's highly likely that I will offend someone in the near future if I continue to blog for putting their ridiculous behavior on blast, even though Elah acted perfectly fine this evening). My lovely friend took me to a bar down the street from her spot called "Camp" it was basically my Grandma's basement from back home in MN. Don't get me wrong I LOVE my grandmas basement! Plus as Elah pointed out it wasn't a truly fair comparisson because good 'ol Grammy doesn't have Big Buck Hunter (unfortunately, she might get a kick out of it) and I suppose she doesn't have a fully stocked bar AND only occasionally does a mixed crowd of 20 somethings fill up her basement between the hours of 10 and 2. Long story short NYC has some romantic flirtation with the idea of theming their bars like cabins and homes of the greater midwest (all the while sticking their noses up at the idea of the good people who actually live their everyday life in this "theme" target/walmart). But really it was a great time. We had our drinks and bought an extremely overpriced tray of S'mores that you could roast at your own table. Yes a tray of s'mores like the ones you make at camp. It consists of your basic supplies and a little urn filled with a weird flamable gel, which I'm really wanting to purchase for personal use although I'm not sure why yet. So you roast your mallow over the presumably toxic gel and have no choice but to burn it, which is fine since burnt is best AND it's a pretty great treat that gives two people something to do to make the rest of the bar partrons jealous (until they find it on the menu and realize it's not an exclusive VIP table thing).
So as you can see by my first ramblings I've pretty much worn myself out with all this action...but as I head off to bed I bestow upon you this gift:
No comments:
Post a Comment