State of Mind

Still trying to process my trip back East. Like my road trip back in September, I'll probably break this one up into two posts: New York, and Cleveland.

I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times: New York is full of emotion for me. There's a lot built into that city, and I'm always both prepared and fully unprepared for how it affects me each time. I also forget how the hiccups of any experience in New York have a tendency to drown out the rest of the amazingness that happened on the trip.

I want to focus on the good, because there was a lot of it. So let's get over the hiccups first: a canceled birthday party (co-host got sick ... not his fault at all, but still disappointing); and throwing out my back again the second week of the trip, which involved a $200 set of visits to a chiropractor (which was a strange experience — they had three different guys poking and prodding at me, trying to figure out what was broken).

That was it. That was all the bad. But it was a bad that left the New York portion of the trip feeling ... incomplete. Maybe New York will always be incomplete for me, the longer I'm away and the more I become entrenched here in SF

At least the good of the trip was full of awesome. Just an example:



Yes, that is a TARDIS. Yes, I totally creamed my panties when I saw it.

I stayed this time with Jes and Nick. I've known her since we were 17; we met in an online Trashcan Sinatras-related chatroom. He is her fiancé, and a completely awesome and wonderful person who almost deserves her.



I'm eternally grateful to them: they tolerated my ups and downs, distracted me with British TV when I was sad, and Nick especially I am thankful for making me watch Predator and learn about the EPIC HANDSHAKE.


My bedmate was Fluffy Kitty

who insisted on at least 10 minutes of worship and adoration before settling down on the sofabed between my feet every night. Willingly given, I have to admit. (Sorry, Kitoose.)

The first week was spent working out of my company's New York office — it's my fourth time there, and it almost feels like a second work-home by now. I was able to fill the evenings with a different friend (or set of friends) every night, which made me feel good. Caught up with Erin and Nathan, Benny, Laura, Karen ... and of course had my night out drinking with Geof.


Playing here with someone's Sonic Screwdriver (I might have to get one of my own). He's responsible for being my personal sherpa from the airport, for getting me half-deaf my first night in town, for taking me to the TARDIS bar, for the disappointment of my birthday, and for the comfort breakfast and company when I could hardly reach down to put my own socks on. (FYI: throwing out your back is not only painful, but also humiliating.) That sonofabitch.

Jes and I saw the Trashcan Sinatras the Sunday after my birthday, which is the first time we'd seen them together.

With my back out, the best thing for me to do was, in fact, a lot of walking. So in the end my painful injury was a good thing. On the second Monday of my trip, I walked from Greenpoint where I was staying, across the Williamsburg Bridge and down to Battery Park, then back up Broadway to my chiro appointment.




Tuesday I went up to Washington Heights and wandered around a little before taking the subway down to 92nd Street and walking down Broadway to Columbus Circle, across to 5th Avenue, and then down to Union Square. It was the walk that really brought me back at peace with the City again. I'm glad I did it.

Wednesday Nick helped me schlep the ginormous suitcase of doom to the Hertz rental center, where I picked up a car for the drive to Cleveland. Yes, I drove to Cleveland. No, it wasn't nearly as bad as expected.

Over the Moon and Under the Influence

Dear Friends Ken and Elsie, if you read this:



You totally missed out on awesome.

I woke up this morning with a terrible hangover. Had gone out to an art gallery opening last night with the Ceramics Crew, and then joined Leonie and Gabe for drinks at 83 Proof. I blame Leonie: she kept encouraging refills on my bourbon, and before I knew it I was three sheets to the wind and four drinks down in a two-hour period. (I also thank Leonie, since she was nice enough to foot the bill on my drunkenness. I owe you a few, girl — and it's good to see you again.) Cabbed it home and could barely see straight when I walked in the door.

The rainy gray day I (eventually) woke up to was perfect; I ended up just staying in bed until past noon, emerging every once in a while to down another glass of water. By the time I rolled out of my apartment, say around 5:30 or so, the rain had reduced down to a heavy mist, and the Giants-Phillies game was well under way. Stopped at the local Toast Eatery, watched a few innings over a BLTA and almost felt like a real San Franciscan (in a good way, Geof ... not in a douche way). It was a good night for Bay Area sports.

The Trashcan Sinatras played tonight at Cafe du Nord's upstairs venue, the Swedish American Hall. I'd never been there, didn't know what to expect, but it was a nice experience. No drinks, but it's a quaint interior, and the sound was fantastic from my second-row-back seat. Was chatting with a few of the TCS-regulars (the band has a small, but fairly rabid following ... so you go to enough shows, you start to see the same people over and over again, which is awesome), and realized that I'd been a fan of these guys full on half my life. I suppose that's not such a big achievement, except for the fact that they're still around, still making music, and I'm still able to see them live. Also, they are still fucking awesome; every time I go see them in concert, it reminds me once more why they are my favorite band of all time.





Pure bliss.

Making Up for Missed Opportunities

It's time to bust out the Trashcan Sinatras CDs again. The email announcing the band's June U.S. mini-tour came just as I got home tonight, and within 15 minutes I'd bought tickets for myself and coworker/friend Elsie.

Their last San Fran show, back in the end of July, I missed by being practically on my deathbed. They're my favorite band — I've been a fan since I was frickin' sixteen years old, almost half my life — and since they have a tendency to pop up and then fade back into obscurity, I wasn't sure if I'd get an opportunity to see them again short of a trip to Glasgow. At the time I seriously was considering drugging myself up so I could make it, but since I could hardly sit upright for more than ten minutes, it's probably best I didn't try. And lo, here they are again, touring on their latest and with promises of a return to the States later this fall.

The those unfamiliar, here's a link to a page with some songs to sample. A few links for the lazy:

The Genius I Was
The Main Attraction
Freetime

Happy, happy day.