Rainy day of smiles
On stage at manhattantheatresource
Dinner with the Weisses at the Olive Tree
Guest feet - Mo and Kelly on the beach SC, while the Chickens performed in rainy NYC
Cool crafty stuff in Washington Sq. Park
My favorite New Orleans beer
I drawed a picture on the table.
My improv troupe,
Chicken Ranch, performed at
mahattantheatresource's Estrogenius Festival fundraiser on Sunday, May 22. After the show, Cindee's folks took us to dinner at the Olive Tree on MacDougal. It had my favorite hard-to-find-north-of-bayou-country beer and chalk for table-drawing.
Juvie Hall Crime Scene
Kristina and Sarah N. make their feet-blog debut.
Pre-show on the Juvie Hall stage
Crime Scene feet o' fire
Kristina and I lovin- it up at Crime Scene
Sarah joins the fun
Chicken Ranch played Juvie Hall on Friday with cf casserole and Street Meat in
Pot Luck Cabaret. Impresario extraordinaire, Adam Nowak, made a Goldfish-topped macaroni and cheese to share. It was delicious, worchestershire balls and all.
After the show, we infiltrated Crime Scene, a new bar on Bowery near 2nd Street for drinks, laughter and a Street Meat-Chicken Ranch love-fest.
Rally against the West Side Stadium
The warm-up band
Old-lady activists - my favorite kind
Scoring a prime spot
View from above
800 people rally against the stadium
There I am
City Council Speaker, Gifford Miller pointing with purpose like a good politician.
City Council Member, Christine Quinn enjoying her party.
State Assembly Member, and my boyfriend, Tom Duane about to pop a blood vessel. Careful, honey, your blood pressure.
Escape route
My favorite sign
Street-Fair Weekend
Ninth Ave. between 44th and 45th Streets
48th Street Community Garden
Improper apostrophe usage on Ninth Ave. and 51st St.
Rampant cannibalism on Amsterdam and 84th St.
Chicks, ducks and geese scurrying on 93rd between Amsterdam and Columbus
Saturday, May 14, I strolled through the Ninth Ave. International Food Fair to and from the Anti-Stadium Rally at McCaffery Park. On the way home, I stopped for a vegetable fritter at an Indonesian stand, and a piece of spinach pie at Uncle Nick's booth. The 48th St. Community Garden had a little table, so I paused for some information. The delightful man with the British accent told me how to obtain a key, and suggested I go over right then, "it's a beautiful day, after all." So I did. I'll go back on the first Saturday of the month to gain resident access status. Yay!
Sunday, May 15, I once again found myself at a street fair - this one stretched between 77th and 90th Streets on Amsterdam Ave. On our way down to the northernmost entrance, we happened upon a school fundraiser with a "County Fair" theme, complete with home-baked goodies, games and barnyard animals. It made me pine for the odiferant Fairfield County Fair. I soothed myself with praline spread on brioche at Le Pain Quotidian. Very Ohio.
Druids and preachers
Chatting with the Gs at Druids
Wanna hot dog?
Feeling the spirit at the Angel Oresantz Center
The Gs and I met for a post-work drinky at Druids and, then, I joined Brendan at the
Rev. Billy record release party. Depending on your preference, you could partake of the anti-consumerist revival and/or street meat. Hey, that would be a great name for an improv troupe. I chose to be saved.
My bedroom has a floor
Look...it's wood.
Dappled sidewalk in front of my "office"
Happy Mother's Day to me
Playing hopscotch in Straus Square
Statue of
Memory, honoring Isidor and Ida Straus, the most romantic couple on the Titanic.
Twice today I was wished a happy Mother's Day; the waitress at Cafe con Leche even gave me a rose. I have no children, nor was I in the company of children (unless you count Brendan*). Weird.
*I kid, I kid. (Get it? Kid?)
I like a little gentrification with my jazz
Waiting for the loo in the belly of a Grey Knight*
My pal Jen hooked me up with a couple of tickets to Jazz at Lincoln Center on Saturday. The Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra performed an interpretation of
Don Quixote called
Chivalrous Misdemeanors. I loved the female vocalist, Jennifer something, I'll look it up later, and that there were trombone and baritone solos. The schmaltzy, loungy, too Dean-Martin-for-my-taste male vocalist and Winnie-the-Poohesque narrator made me giggle inappropriately. I don't think self-parody was what they were going for. I'm not much of a jazz person, so I don't speak with any authority, but I enjoyed the program overall. Our seats were great (thanks Jen!) and the venue was swank, so there's that.
*
The Time Warner Center - towering grey knights protecting the posh Central Park South aristocracy from the Hell's Kitchen serfs.
Shhh...
Sipping and quietly talking (me with Cindee's toes)
In the aftermath of G-night, Cindee and I ventured to Half King for brunch. Our waitress was hot (Mowhawk, tatoos, black eyeliner) and, Hosannah!, the place was dark and quiet. We didn't spot Sebastian Junger, but the food was good and the Bloody Mary was spicy.
Revived, we walked along 23rd Street in search of perfume for Cindee (with success) and new undies for me (not so much). We passed a new bakery between 7th and 8th that the world's improvisors should embrace:
Big booty, big booty, big booty. Uh huh!
Viva la mujerisma
Mujerisma, n. State of being a strong, saavy, righteous babe in this modern world.
The hippie, the mod and the princess (me, Cindee, Mo)
Lounging, as Kelly hits the wall
Ma Gs got together last night at Mo and Kelly's to celebrate Seis de Mujerisma. Mo, Kelly, Cindee, Sarah, Clara and I (sadly missing were Amy, Flo and Rachel) drank sangria*, ate guac, read tarot cards and sang really loud to the radio (read: iPod) for hours. By the end, we were merrily quarreling over who was the awesomest ("No, you are!", "No, you are!") and proclaiming the individual genius of Jeff Lynne and Dolly Parton.
The ladies in my life make it good. Viva!
*The recipe I always use, with a few slight variations, is from "Hot Cookin': The Fire Island Cookbook". It's tasty; gay boys know their cocktails. Enjoy.
.075 ml red wine
.5 c brandy or triple sec (opt'l)
1 c water
.5 c sugar
.5 l seltzer
1 lemon
1 lime
1 orange
1 apple
Chop fruit into bite size pieces, set aside the ends. Pour wine and brandy or triple sec into a pitcher or bowl and add chopped fruit. Refrigerate. In a sauce pan, bring water to a boil. Add sugar and the ends from the chopped fruit. Stir and simmer for 10 minutes to create a syrup. When syrup is cool, squeeze juice from the end pieces and discard. Using a strainer, add syrup to wine mixture. Stir well and chill. Just before serving, add seltzer.
Curmudgeons' brunch
Picking over brunch at West Way Cafe (north: Brendan, south: me)
omelet
n : beaten eggs or an egg mixture cooked until just set; may be folded around e.g. ham or cheese or jelly [syn: omelette]
Source: WordNet ® 2.0, © 2003 Princeton University
Well, Mr. Kroch, I guess some people do like jelly. Not me, man. Take that shit away. Hey, kids outside the diner, you're laughing and talking just a bit too loud. No having fun. Shania Twain, you can keep your noise to yourself, too. Oh, oh, oh, oh.
Man. I feel like an asshole.
Nez tristes de clown
Resting after a good meal
Last night, Brendan and I had dinner at Le Monde on Broadway and 113th St. The side dish of haricot vert and mushrooms came with, as Brendan called them, sad clown noses. Most people call them cherry tomatoes.
After dinner, we went to Night Cafe on Amsterdam and 106th St. for a beer and some pool. We were informed by an "artist of some renown" that writing is hard, and, one of the more interesting regulars, Raul, guessed my age by looking at my teeth.
Joy of joys
Working hard at the "office"
Repaired and rejuvenated, my little Nikon and I are back in action. Now, if I can just get my computer fixed so Michele can have her apartment back...
