new yorker, chris potter, norm!
can i discuss for a second how much i enjoyed the jan 4th issue of the new yorker? choire beat me to the punch on the vampire weekend profile. the bit with the blink 182 guy was so priceless. and then he starts, like, basically trying to sell them timeshares. but it's not a resort in boca. it's some music website. but he sounds so cheap and shoesalesman-y. and the profile of mackey, the (former) whole foods CEO. that dude is, pardon the lingo, a real douchebag. he's spacey and annoying and hypocritical. and then that piece on van gogh and how maybe he didn't cut off his own ear and how maybe it was gaugin. AWESOME. and how annoying and kind of sappy and clingy van gogh was and what a jerk "cool kid" gaugin was. how van gogh's brother had to basically pay gaugin to be friends with poor van gogh. SO GOOD. reminds me of the stories ben would tell about gaugin's child bride. and then it finishes off with some words on grace kelly who is the lovliest.
poor syar: "Those of you who follow me on Twitter probably saw me freak out about bank issues, which utterly ruined my morning. It involved a phone call to my bank in Australia involving an international money transfer and then it involved my utter failure to remember the answer to my absurdly difficult (self-set) second security question. "Who was my first written heroine?"* WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN, PAST SYAR? UGH YOU ARE SO DIFFICULT AND YOU RUIN EVERYTHING."
but two things: 1.) i have TOTALLY done that. forgotten the answer to my own security question. usually it's favorites that change. banks shouldn't ask me what my favorite thing is! i'm too fickle. 2.) how cute is syar's hair? oh, and one more! 3.) NANCY DREW. nuff said.
very randomly got invited to a concert by this guy. because i spend most my time listening to coltrane, i'm the last person to have known about the chris potter underground band but OH MAN, they rocked. a super tight group with a lot of energy and loads of creativity. (i mean, after seeing mccoy tyner, everyone feels young and plucky.) it was at the village vanguard, a space that oozes history. you can feel the legends lurking. an intimate, perfect little time capsule of a venue. music is seth's beat so he knows a million things about bands i've never heard of but would probably love if i knew them. or maybe not. i prefer the be-bop jazz while he likes the more atonal stuff. he also likes modern opera composers and i'd take verdi or handel or bizet over britten ANY DAY. maybe we can meet somewhere in the middle with glass or barber. who knows. talking with him really made me miss opera but it's not the same here. no guys chanting, "libretto! enjoy the opera with a libretto! and opera glasses" no regulars with whom to discuss the sets at intermission. it just doesn't feel like home. i'm afraid i expect too much. i'm used to people knowing me wherever i go. the world is my Cheers, except when it isn't.
speaking of my cheers, i met julie very late at night at our dive bar the other night. i was home, comfy with a mud mask on (don't make fun!) and got a "girlfriend with a crisis" call. and then a "hey, your friend is here alone and wasted so you should come down to keep an eye on her" call from the bouncer. so i schlepped down at an ungodly hour, listened to the bartender go on and on about some japanese prostitutes he had one night while also trying to get me to say i masturbate to thoughts of him. i don't. (but even if i did, you think i'd tell him? the man is married with several children. i am NOT that kind of girl. or, at the very least, i need to try to seem like i'm not that kind of girl. and i MAY be into kinky stuff but asian prostitutes? do i have a sign on my forehead that reads, "ISO STD"?) (no. i do not.)
animal collective DJing at the museum of natural history tonight. i love any excuse to play at a museum after hours...