Yet another Brooklyn party

Friday night I was at another party in Brooklyn, it was a nice one. Much more mellow than the others I've been to, and it wasn't as sweaty and crowded. Except for the band who was playing live, the music was cool but it was so loud that after the concert it felt like someone had raped my ears. Saturday evening me and some friends went to Park avenue armory. It's no longer a armory but a viewing space for art. There were a lecture by The Yes Men. It was a quite entertaining and nice event. It was not as crazy as known from their films though. He basically had a reading from a fake news paper containing good "news", the way the world should have been.

Sunday wasn't very eventful. I tried to catch up on my reading (it has become some kind of Sunday ritual) and I had a good turn in the climbing wall.

Fall

It has been so hot since I came here. Shorts and t-shirt day and night. Two days ago it suddenly changed, it's cooler, the wind is blowing and its raining, not much, just a drizzel. It is so refreshing, and I can start wearing jeans and a sweater without melting.

Back to Switzerland

Last night I was at two concerts at the Music Hall of Williamsburg with Emma, Gen, Cole and Sarah. Jesse Sykes and the sweet hereafter and Black Mountain were playing.It was great, but I'm not gonna write about that.

I was outside the venue having a smoke when I saw this girl. She looked so sad, really depressed. I ask here if everything was alright, which it obviously wasn't, and she started telling. She was from Switzerland and had stayed in new york for one year. First of all she hated her job, she was interning in a bank. The next ting she told me was that she just had gotten married to this guy she didn't want to be with. She said to me that he really loved her and was nice, but she didn't want to marry him. The third thing was that she didn't like New York and especially not Americans. She couldn't understand their way of being or come along with them. A fourth thing, she didn't mention, was that her husband was extremely jealous. I had been talking with the girl for ten minutes when he suddenly came storming out of the music hall. He looked at me and said, with a really loud and angry voice, "who the fuck are you?" Then he dragged the girl away and started interrogating her. "You have been gone for 45 fucking minutes! What have you been fucking doing?!". The hole thing was just sad. Back to Switzerland; a romantic comedy with out the happy ending nor the funny parts.

By the time we were leaving I was really drunk. When we started walking, me and Gen found this huge rubber mold of a midget, I thought i was going to laugh my self to death, it was hilarious! We wisely decided that we couldn't leave it behind. We dragged it with us, it was super heavy and to be honest quite disgusting. I woke my roommate because I was standing in the kitchen, all by my self , laughing at the mold.

I had fries for breakfast today.

Long time

It has been a while since I wrote, and for that I'm sorry. But what can I say, I have been really busy, tired and drunk.

On Thursday last week I was at a dinner party in little Poland, Greenpoint. I was invited by a guy I met on the L train three o'clock at night some days earlier. Actually I had met him once before, I was looking at a room in his apartment a month ago. It's funny, but it has happened more than once that I've ran in to people coincidentally here in New York. I didn't think that would happen. The dinner was fun, there were served really good lamb and different Middle east inspired sides. We had watermelon (some chose pot) for desert. It was a strange group of people. A pretentious writer, an editor for a 60+ web page, an interior designer with background in English literature, an artist with BA degree, who sold his paintings for 20 dollars on Bedford ave, a girl which I didn't understood what she was doing except for the fact that Nike had been their client and me. Friday turned out quite typical for a Friday. I met up with some friends. We had four dollar specials (Pabst and Bourbon) at International. Later we hooked up with some more people went to Fish bar and had six dollar specials. When we were drunk we decided that the smartest thing to do would be to go to a club on the lower east side and have more booze. It was a fun and not to eventful evening. I ended up sleeping with a half eaten slice of cheese pizza.

Saturday was quite disappointing. I didn't have any plans and wasn't sure if I wanted to do anything. I decided that I didn't and therefor didn't contact anyone. I went out and bought some beers and a stack of glossy magazines and went home. I just lay in my bad reading drinking beer and catching up on the latest episodes of Hills and Gossip girl. After a while I started feeling tipsy and really wanted to do something fun. I called around to see what people were up to, but no one did anything special it seemed. By this time I was aching to do something, it was just one of those days. I was this close to go to a fancy Chelsea cocktail bar, but changed my mind in the last second. It was almost 2 am and I cant say I have the economy to go and drink 20 dollar cocktails by my self. I undressed and went to bed. About 10 minutes later both Emilia and Charlotte called and wanted me to go to two different parties. I thought it sounded fun, got dressed and walked to the metro. As I was to go through the barrier I realized that I had forgotten my wallet with money and metro card. I just wasn't suppose to go out.

And in between all this I've been trying to catch up on my reading, my writing, other school work and taking advantage of my MPHC membership.

This became a long, factual and dry post.

Sorry!

I'm Never Gonna Dance Again

I went to the closest self-service laundry, I bought a coffee on the way. I actually enjoy doing my laundry this way. Sitting there waiting, looking at people, drinking coffee and reading. I was in high spirit, I had brought a text by José Ortega y Gasset which is a reading for my advanced drawing class. The strangest thing happened. As I sat there, very pleased with my self since I was doing both chores and schoolwork at the same time, the radio started playing "I'm Never Gonna Dance Again". And I suddenly felt sad. The saxophone solo was playing, and I was profoundly sad! It was weird.

Later that night I was hit on by a 37 year old, kind of chubby, guy named Carl. He thought I was cute and wanted me to come up to his apartment for some brewskies. I politely told him I couldn't since I was on my way to have beers with some friends. As I walked away he shouted after me "When Will I see you again?".

After some beers with Laura, Lucie and Saki, we all went stealing garbage to use as material for a sculpture.

Manhattan Plaza Health Club

What's the point of living on Manhattan if you're not a member of a health club with roof top sundecks, tennis courts and swimming pool with retractable glass roof? Today I joined the MPHC which is a really nice club. I must admit that it was the climbing walls and not the sundeck that made me choose this place.

The bad thing about it is the location, by all means it's very central, but I have to go of at 42nd on the N train. This means that I have to bully my way over Times Square and squeeze my way along the busy 42nd to get to 43rd and 10th ave. It is so annoying, it is fucking packed 24/7.

To quote Mundo: "People can be good at East village, people can be good at Chelsea, but no people are good at Times Square. It is just not made for humans!"

Sorry about the bad picture quality, mobile phone cameras in badly lit rooms never turn out great.

Absinthe and whores

On Friday me and a gang went to a burlesque poetry reading at the Poetry Brothel in Williamsburg. It wasn't as fun as it might sound, but I'm glad I went cause it was interesting. When you came there an actor playing Rimbaud served as doorman. You paid him the cover charge and he gave you instructions and everything you needed for the night: a little pamphlet with pictures and descriptions of the whores, a green coin which would give you an absinthe in the bar and a golden coin which was to pay for your first reading.

The inside of the brothel was decorated with impressionistic paintings and velour. The Baby Soda Jazz Band, who was playing live, really sat the mood. I'm definitely going to check them out at the Moto. Three burlesque gypsies, two popes and and some of the poetry whores were dancing wildly as if it were the 1930ies. One of the gypsy girls found it hilarious that I was so scared of the whole situation. She was persistent in making it worse by dancing in front of me waving her feathers in my face, which I found quite intimidating, asking "Are you scared boy?". And I must admit, I was. It was at this point I decide not to go easy on absinthe nor beer.

It is when it comes to the readings that I was disappointed. The way it worked was that you told the hostess, Tennesie Pink, which whore you wanted a reading from and then she followed you down in the cellar were there were many small "rooms" (spaces divided by cloth). She showed way to your chosen prostitute. It was a one to one situation and it was this I was scared of. Didn't really know what to expect. It turned out to be neither as scary or interesting as it could have been. It was quite low key. It started out as a conversation and from what she heard she picked out one of her poems for you and read it. It's not often that I find performativ poetry very interesting, I have to read them my self to find meaning in it. I must admit I haven't been to many of the kind, I'm sure there are really good ones out there, but this wasn't one of them. But I can really appreciate the dedication, the concept and the effort that was put in to this happening.

On the L-train home we met the gypsy girl again, she was hardly as scary this time.

The Names

C - Charlotte
C - Cole
E - Emilia
E - Emma
G - Genevive
J - Jessica
J - Josie
K - Kathy
L - Laura
M - Maiken
M - Matthew
N - Natalia

Hoegaarden and Hors d'orderves

Thursday. E and I went to Robert Bordos opening at Alexander and Bonin gallery in the Meatpacking district. Bordo is a painting professor at Cooper. We hooked up with J, K and two other girls which I cant remember the name of. Afterwards we went from opening to opening enjoying free food and free booze. I didn't see that much art that I found interesting, but that has never been the reason for going to openings anyway. Though most of the galleries were in Chelsea, the people at the openings seemed "regular". I was actually hoping to see more of those ridiculously rich people who goes to openings only to show of. The last gallery we went to was actually a hot print shop. There were some really funny Julian Opie prints on display. Think they were called "Digital Strippers". It was four pictures of strippers, really naive and in typical Julian Opie style. The funny thing was that they were flipping images, as you walked by, they danced! K was working at the print shop doing prints for them, which resulted in that we were invited to the after party. The party was in a small club in the Meatpacking, were they served free Hoegaarden and hors d'orderves. It was really nice! We had so much fun, after having enough brewskies (or to many), we moved on to another club were there were a concert. E knew one of the guys playing so we got in for free. It's so nice to know someone who knows someone. It's convenient. We danced our self silly to really up beat reggae inspired music, before I finally dragged my self home to East village .

When I first came here, I knew as little and as much about the city as everyone else. New York is the kind of city that you feel you know because it is so exposed in the medias. "Seinfeld", "Gossip Girl" and "Taxi Driver". They are all here. But there is so much more as well! I've been eavesdropping a lot since I arrived. It's not my fault, people are really loud and not exactly shy here. I've overheard a lot of conversations which could have been taken out of "Sex and the City". People do talk a lot about sex here.

Blond woman passing: ...I just stuffed a lot of things up my vagina...

Quote Carry Bradshaw : I revealed too much too soon. I was emotionally slutty

I went to look at a room on the upper east side, 80th street. The guy who owned the apartment was a nice 35 year old man. He told me, as soon as I walked in the door, that he newly had turned gay. He had been married for eight years with a woman that he now was fighting with over a painting (I don't think that was the reason for the divorce). But he was still interested in women, and most of all "Asian chicks" as he called them. He had been to Thailand a few times, but he had never been with one. But he was planning to go back to there and then he was going to hire a "girlfriend" (long term escort). And he just kept going in that direction. The point here is that I've only spoken to this guy for about two hours and he has told me about all his sexual preferences. I think this is quite funny, as long as I'm not expected to be as open (I tend to answer in a very general way). I saw this posted in one of the room ads on craigslist: ...you have to be comfortable with sex... What does that mean? That your expected to have sex with you roommate, or that there is a lot of sex going on in the apartment and that you cant have any problems with that? In another ad the owner advertised that the room came with "extra benefits" . It was clearly suggesting that you could sleep with the owner.

On the metro I heard a couple arguing loudly:
The guy (in full seriousness): You like me! You are sexually attracted to me, and you know it!
The girl (with a distinct sarcasm in the voice): Oh yeah that's right! I forgot, rip of my clothes and fuck me!

Oppose to me a lot of guys, at least them you hear (obviously), has a lot of self confidence when it comes to what the other gender thinks of them. It's quit common to hear men commenting on passing women. And it's not like the sleazy commenting which is so common in southern Europe, which, though sexist, tends to go towards some kind of romantic compliment. It's much rougher here. The other day I heard this as a man was passing a woman on a Zebra crossing. "That's some piece of ass! I know you want me. You want regret it as soon as you're on your knees!". Somewhat degrading I might say. It happens all the time to the girls I know here. On Saturday (I wasn't there) a fat businessman shouted after E, " Wanna suck some dick for some money?". E went mental and started screaming back after him. FUCK YOU! I wish I was there. I wonder who these guys are. Does he go home to his wife or does he go to his fancy, empty midtown apartment jerking of to porn.

I guess I'll never know.

The Park and The Ballroom

Had a Lovely Sunday yesterday. Started the day of with a long walk and a coffee in Central Park with E. It felt very New York-ish. I nearly was run over by a walker, a runner and a rollerblader. The runner seemed really angry, I guess it was because I was walking clockwise around the water and you should go counter clockwise. Fucking tourist!

Later me, E,G and C (these capital letters are starting to get quite ridiculous) went to a concert at the Bowery Ballroom. It was a beautiful venue. Downstairs was a really old bourgeois inspired bar, were they still used the old school cash register. Upstairs was a classic theater looking stage with a nice mezzanine.

The first band playing, Monotonix, was absolutely mental. They had placed them self in the middle of the floor, surrounded by the audience. They played some kind of r'n'r mixed with stone and balkan. The lead singer, a hairy man with red shorts, Axel Rose style, ran back and fort like crazy. He had a SM inspired game with the drummer. Strangling him with the microphone cord. Putting a garbage bin on his head and beating him. But the drummer kept his pace. Towards the end of this set the band got on top of the bar. And I don't mean just the persons but the instruments including the drum kit. From there they played their last songs while the lead singer was drinking beer of his shoes, throwing ice cubes and lime slices at us and the audience were dancing like they were in the "Smells like teen spirit" video. I wouldn't have recommended anyone to buy their CD, but if you get the chance to see them live, you have to go!

I met this interesting tiny woman there. She sure knew how to talk. It just never stopped. She was so turned on by the singer in Monotonix. "That wild beast! I just got to have that hairy man. That's every little girls dream, to have a trash bin on your head and be beaten. Not all the time though. Oh my god I need him!". She thought I smelled good and for that reason she thought I was gay, "What team are you playing on? I just wanna be sure". When she found out that I was straight she said that if she didn't get the singer, she wanted to take me home. I told her to stick with the singer, "I'm sure he's much more fun". She claimed to be an excellent figure drawing model as well, that she would be a challenge to draw. "I've got a lot of texture. My thighs looks like the Grand Cannyon."

The second band playing, Silver Jew, was much more mellow. I'm sure the guy who have written the songs has listened a lot to Nick Cave, Bob Dylan and Tindersticks. Absolutly worth checking out.

Freshmen and Robots

On Friday I went to a party with J in the Bronx. I didn't now what kind of party it was until I arrived. It was a group of Seniors and newly graduated students who had arrange the party. It was a kind of back to school party which gave the older students a chance to fuck freshmen. He who told me that had a kind of sarcasm in his voice, but as the party progressed I'm sure there was some truth to it after all. At first there weren't that many people and the party were both on the roof and in R´s apartment. But suddenly big groups of people came and a storm broke out so people rushed down from the roof. It was crowded. Absolutely packed! The temperature raised quickly. Everybody was dancing like mad, poured down brewskies, smoked weed. People was sweating. The sweat was flowing! Everyone who had light colored clothes looked like they were in a wet t-shirt competition.

I found some glasses in the bathroom, I'll definitely buy some for my self.

I met an upset photographer from Parsons. He had been to a NY fashion week party were he had met a group of models who had invited him to go out with them. But in the chaos as the party was finished and everybody was leaving he lost them. Now he thought they had conspired to just tease him.

Last night I was at Robot party in Bushwick, Brooklyn. Didn't really now what that was either, only that E had told me it was there. But as the name insinuated, it was a theme party. To be honest, it wasn't that funny. The live music was cool. And the rooftop was great! I always get surprised over the beautifully view on top of buildings in Brooklyn. All the buildings there are of pretty much the same height so you have a clear view to Manhattan. Any way. The neighbours called the police so the roof had to close. Everyone had to go inside and it became ridiculously full. A guy smashed a beer bottle in someones head after that the fun was kind of gone. A lot of screaming, shouting and another bottle came flying and the party was over for me.

I have a studio

You guys who have been to the academy in Malmö, would laugh you silly if you knew how small my new studio "space" is.

Bedford ave

Last night I went out to Brooklyn with M and E. There are a lot of cozy bars around Bedford ave, it makes it really hard to choose where to go. The fact that at a lot of places had trivia, which I find appalling, made it a bit easier. We first went to a bar close to McCarren Park. The Place was nice but I think the guy in charge of the music was kind of schizophrenic playing everything from 90-ties hits to heavy metal. We finished our drink there (We had styrofoam margaritas. I think they're served in styrofoam so you can bring them on to the streets) and left.

We moved on to a bar almost down by the Williamsburg bridge. There we met G and G's twin brother, Canadians. It was a nice place. We were having PBR and whiskey, I think that's a common combo to have on the menu here, they come in sets and are really cheap.

After a couple of those, I ended up talking to a Polish (he had lived in New York for 37 years) guy through the window. It was hilarious! Not that he said so much funny to say, but he sounded exactly like Al Pacino! I pointed that out to him, but he didn't like it at all. He was very sensitive about his roots, so when I told him he took that as a sign that he had become to American. That made it even funnier, he became uppsett and started shouting which again made him sound even more Like Pacino.

If any one told me that I sounded like him, I'd be really pleased.