Failure with a twist...

I didn't go to the street party. Wait. Before you get all disappointed, scrunch up your noses and pull the old "Melissa, we thought more of you, we thought you were going to make something of yourself, you're not living up to your potential" act let me defend my actions.

Little Bro and I spent all day Saturday walking around the city. We went to a street fair, we ate corndogs, we ambled through the Village, we shopped, we got our mom a birthday gift, we hung out in Washington Square Park, we popped in and said hello to my friends from the coffee shop, we saw a movie (go see Little Miss Sunshine, you'll be glad you did) and we planned to have dinner with MT afterward. Well, MT drove into the city, picked us up, he & Little Bro got to talking about music and then before I knew it we were at Guitar Center on 14th St. trying out amps and playing Strats. OK, I was watching and trying not to look out of place (in a guitar store you can tell who doesn't play - we stick out like sore thumbs), the guys were playing. We wrapped up at the shrine-to-all-things-guitar and went to dinner at my favorite little Italian place. Excellent food, excellent atmosphere (tiny lights wrapped around branches all across the ceiling like a forest filled with fireflies - not too dim to be weird while hanging out with Little Bro but dim enough to make everyone look really good). We had too full a day to make it to the bridge by 7:57. So, while the street party was a no-go, we had a great time without it. Little Bro was even able to have a couple of drinks with us at the restaurant.

There's another reason I'm OK with not going last night - today we went to Coney Island. I've lived here on and off for 2 years and had never been to Coney until today. Not only does Coney Island mean boardwalk, the Cyclone, the original Nathan's, the beach, carnival games and some of the best people watching ever... there's a freak show.



Mmm hmm, fuh-reak shuh-how. FREAK SHOW! Holy shit in a bucket, it was so cool! Flame eaters, sword swallowers, contortionists, a chick that danced with a massive albino python (or some kind of snake that seems like it would have a name like "albino python"), a guy who hammered an 18 penny nail into his sinus cavity, another guy who swung a bowling ball in a sling around his head... and the sling was hooked to his earrings, and a mummy. Yep, a mummy.

Plus, we rode the Cyclone. That is some scary pile of wood, let me tell you. Built in 1927, it's got to be in my Top 5 Roller Coasters Of All Time. It was so good and so scary it made me bust my shoe. That probably sounds bizarre. Let me explain - I jammed my feet into the bottom of the car to keep from coming off my seat too much on the big drops and when we went over one of the hills my feet slipped out and I ripped the back of my shoe. I really like the shoes, so you figure I'd be pissed, right? Nope. It's the coolest ruined shoe story I've got. The Cyclone was so good it busted my shoe.

I'm sunburned from 2 days in the sun, exhausted from going and going non-stop from morning 'til night, and couldn't be happier about the way this weekend went. It was so good to see Little Brother. He's got a whole head full of thoughts and ideas and philosophies. He's growing up and I get to watch. It's pretty amazing.

SO cool, SO New York... SO not me?

Alright, so my brother gets into town in a few hours. I'm taking him to get Moroccan food for dinner once his bus gets to Chinatown. Fun place on St. Marks. I need to pick up a new nose post while we're there because the tiny pink stone in mine fell out and now it looks like I have an empty metal divot in my nostril. Not funky, not attractive, not cool, not me.

But that brings me to my thought of the evening - I don't think I'm a very cool person to begin with. I mean, I'm dorky and goofy and perfectly aware of that, but those things don't necessarily negate coolness. I should exude cool like I exude sweat - which today is by the bucketful. I just really feel like an uncool kid lately. For instance, I've been thinking about what to do with Ian while he's here since he's 20 and those pesky 3 months separating him from a legal beer prohibit going to the places I usually hang out at night in the city. Well, I heard about this street party going on tomorrow night. It sounds amazing. Very unstructured, but with a plan, very interesting entertainment, drinks but no bar... it's kind of like a rave in the sense that they don't tell you where it's going to be until the day before. Now, I say it's like a rave because that's what I've heard about raves. I was never cool enough to actually go to one. I never got the whole ecstasy/glow stick/trance music thing, but it was cool for quite awhile - and I was never there.

This street party happened for the first time last year and the pictures are amazing. Basically the entire Red Hook waterfront was transformed into a peaceful, artistic, crowded, wonderful backyard party. This year there will be marching brass bands, flame twirlers, drinks (the whole idea is that it's an unpermitted thing, you bring drinks and stuff to share and everyone gets along in this big utopian party atmosphere - surprisingly it actually worked the first time) and a whole host of other delights. It's called One Night Of Fire and people are encouraged to come in flame-themed costume. Play a musical instrument? Well bring it and play for the crowd. Make a killer babaganoush? Whip up a batch and bring it with you. Mix a killer cocktail? Bring a shaker or two full of the stuff and share it. That kind of thing. Isn't that cool? It's cool, right?

Yeah, it's cool and I want to go so badly, but I am so intimidated that I probably won't. It's pathetic that I won't go, but I just know I won't. It's the reason I don't go dancing more often - I LOVE to dance, but I think I'm so uncool on the dance floor that I get intimidated. What the hell are you supposed to do with your arms anyway? This would be an entire night of "I don't know what to do with my arms, or the rest of me, and now I'm thinking about it too much and starting to act awkward, or at least feel awkward even though I'm great at hiding it..." Ugh. I suck sometimes. I get so frustrated with myself. Remember when I posted that quote from Nelson Mandela's inaugural speech about not playing it small because you take away from your own inherent greatness? I'm so sick of playing it small.

I think I'm going to try out that street party. The starting point is 7:57 exactly in the very middle of the Brooklyn Bridge. There will be a tug of war to see if the winners end up toward Manhattan or Brooklyn. Whichever side wins is where the party moves. Either way, the organizers have a plan. That is SO cool. I want that to be SO me. I'm going to try to make it happen. It sounds like something I'd really love, so why should I let my own ridiculousness keep me from it? Besides, it would give Ian some great memories of his weekend in NYC with his big sister.

Baby Bro, all growed up

My little brother is coming this weekend! He's taking the bus up from DC tomorrow night and spending the weekend with me. I can't wait to see his big, goofy, college man mug. 20 years old and he'll always be my baby bro. In my mind he's 3. White blond hair, teetering yet self-assured walk, funny mix of real English and made up 3 yr. old language. Now he's 6'4", size 14 feet, fraternity brother, talented guitar player, beer drinker and still my little guy. Gotta find some fun stuff to do that doesn't require 21 & up status.

(My dad & bro. The acorn doesn't fall far from the tree. The cotton in their ears was to drown out the sound of the airboat motor - the pics is from their trip to Miami to see me in January. Ah, the Everglades.)

So it's root, root, root for the home team!

Last night I went to the Mets/Cubs game with a friend from high school I haven't seen in 11 years.

The game was great (even though the Mets blew it by 2) and it was really cool to catch up with my friend. Even had a photo op w/Mr. Met!




Here's another super cute pic from this weekend of little Kristie-pie with our esteemed leader. I'm cracking up so much about it that it cracks me up even more. I've been busting a gut about this picture for 3 days.





Last, but not least, this my view most days for lunch. I go get a sandwich or some udon noodle soup from the little Japanese place down the block and I sit at the very tippy tip of the Battery.

Just me, a couple of fishermen, and Lady Liberty. We talk sometimes. She tells me when she's sad (which is often lately) and we chat about life and love and the U.S. and New York. She's a good lunch date.

I wish it could have lasted longer

I won't dare steal Kristie's thunder (I'm sure she'll post lots of great shots from this weekend), but I couldn't wait one more second to put this up. The pose was her idea and I think it came out so great. This is one we'll look at when we're 80 and remember how fun that day was and how young and idealistic we were. I'm hoping we'll be 80 and idealistic.




That girl makes me smile. Having a best pal is the most amazing gift.



Fierce.

Going to see mah gurrrrrrrrl!

I'm leaving for DC in about 3 hours and I can't wait!

1982 was a good year for movies

"You stay in my arms as long as you like. You can move in tonight. Take your clothes and put 'em in my pockets." - Walter Matthau as Herb Tucker to his daughter, Libby, in I Ought To Be In Pictures.

Libby: "What is it about attachments that scare you so much?"
Herb: "Unattachments."

Isn't that wonderful? I miss Walter Matthau. His last name was originally Matthow. He changed it. Kind of how Andy Warhol was originally Andy Warhola. True story.

Marriage for all... even us breeders who can't get it right

Check out my friend, Ellie! This was page B6 of the NY Times today. She's the cute Korean chick in the front row. She's adorable in red. She deserves to get married if she wants to, you know. She loves like I love and I can get married... she can't. That smacks of wrong to me. I live w/her girlfriend, so I'm a little biased, but that doesn't change the issue. It seems like such a simple concept to me. It makes me very sad that it's an issue at all.

Leaps of faith

"If we listened to our intellect, we'd never have a love affair. We'd never have a friendship. We'd never go into business, because we'd be cynical. You've got to jump off cliffs all the time, and build your wings on the way down." -Ray Bradbury

Well, love affairs are delicious. Friendships make the world go 'round. And my business is growing. I've jumped, and I'm learning how to build better wings all the time. Isn't that all we can hope for? To jump and land softly, or at least not hard enough to kill us?

P.S. Added a new jacket to inventory. The Hunting Jacket has Asian influences (kimono sleeves), fluted rib and back details, button closure and a wacky print (see those pheasants? see the hunters trying to shoot the pheasants?).