Blindness

I worry that there's a special kind of jadedness that New Yorkers eventually acquire, and that jadedness involves not seeing the awesomeness around them. For a few weeks, I have been at a loss of things to write about on my blog. "I haven't done anything," I complain to myself, begging myself to be more interesting. When, in fact, there have actually been some incredible moments I had the distinct pleasure of experiencing in the past few weeks or so. At the time, though, I was just too blind to see it.

One of the things I love about this blog is that it forces me to take a look at my life and forget that not every post has to be a specific "event" that I go to. Sometimes you can write 1000 words about an instant without even trying. Other times, you have to work a little harder. The past few weeks I have spent aching my fingers and eyes into pitch mode (which any freelancer will tell you is the most difficult mode to be in), using something like Jedi mind tricks to will editors into publishing my work, forgetting to take some time for introspection because all I want to do is turn off my brain and watch Will & Grace from 11pm until I pass out.  With the start of this new month, though, I hope to change. So please forgive me, dear readers, if I have been remiss. Below are a potpurri of experiences I hope you too can come across at some point.

September 15
SD and I went down to Coney Island for a tattoo and motorcycle festival. While the festival itself did not inspire too much, it was SD's first trip so we took full advantage of the touristy wonderfulness of it all. SD slipped a quarter into a box with a glass front, the contents of which, a mannequin and her cat, we were told would instantly fall in love with us. To our delight, we found "instantly fall in love with us," meant the unironically '90s-attired lady and cat boogied to something that sounded like a Prince takeoff about love. It was a little like watching a sex doll sing to me, which felt both profoundly awkward and hilarious. We ate funnel cake on the beach, powdered sugar taking a comedic cue and blowing all over my black jeans. And, of course, Nathan's. Who in their right mind goes to Coney Island without getting Nathan's? I don't often go to the beach when it's not summertime, but it was really lovely to feel a brisk, crisp breeze as we walked down the boardwalk.

September 21

Interest piqued in zine and artist book culture by a brief trip to Printed Matter in Chelsea, MD (not a doctor, haha) was interested in attending the New York Art Book Fair, and I was happy to accompany him. The event, held at MoMA PS1 in Queens, turned the entire museum into vendor spaces and displays for the fair, which is the "world's premier event for artists' books, catalogs, monographs, periodicals, and zines." And it was free! In short, artists' books are books of artwork made by the artists themselves--both the artwork in them, and the book itself. Or, as Printed Matter says, "books or other editioned publications conceived by artists as art works, or, more succinctly, as 'artwork for the page.' We wound ourselves through the entirety of the building, even the furnace, looking at different artwork and installations. 

September 24

Amazing soup dumplings with crab and egg at Nan Xiang Xiao Long Bao in Flushing. First, you put a little bit of a soy sauce/vinegar mix on your spoon, then a dumpling. Then, you bite the dumpling and the soup flows into the soup spoon. It's an art I haven't mastered yet, to say the least, but I'd go back in a heartbeat to get better at it :)

The New World Mall, just off the last stop on the 7 train, also in Flushing. The bottom floor is a food court of all different kinds of Asian food--some even with live lobsters splashing about in tanks. Not to mention the best bubble tea I've had to date, for only $2 (at a place where I unfortunately can't remember the name, aaagh). 

September 29

I put on my best Nicki Minaj-like ensemble and took part in a rap video parody of "Gangster's Paradise" on a rooftop in Bushwick. This video idea sprung from the brain of Hannah VanderPoel, a comedy writer here in New York. Rago, myself, and eight other ladies spent the afternoon tottering around the rooftop in stilettos and sneakers and boots doing our best bad bitch impressions. And you had better believe that as soon as it comes out, I'll post a link ;)