Winter = Content

The absolute best thing about winter is being freezing ass cold and then walking into a warm room - preferably where there is wine to drink. Red wine. The sensation of your skin slowly warming up to the heat is, without a doubt, the best thing in the world. And any weather that makes me want to guzzle red wine and wax poetic is a damned good thing.

To further my point - I have opened my expensive bottles of Napa reds and consumed them all by myself and chain smoked inside my house while listening to whiny music. Before you judge me for drinking alone (and imply anything about my unconfirmed alcoholism) I should mention that Angie has been my enabler by telephone. I love Angie.

But what better time of year to perform such solitary indulgences?

I fucking love winter - you can hide in your scarves and the lighting is profound, like, everywhere you go. If only I had a functional camera and an endless supply of black and white film...I'd quit my job, drink wine all day, and live off my photography.

*Sigh*

...

...and as the sun rises and I warm my hands around my coffee cup, I'm still trying to shake the sensation of existing between dreaming and awake.

I play the same song on repeat and smoke a few cigarettes to chase away the last strands of dream, knowing that I'll only be working to forget the feeling wrenched away from me when I woke up.

God damn it's cold.

Turkeys

On my first morning back in CA, I wake up to sunlight shining into my room - and it never ceases to amaze me how fucking awful New Jersey is. It's not that there isn't sunlight - it's that it's not quite the same brightness and color over there - and it doesn't shine into your room and make it all yellow and pretty when you wake up. Whatever, it rained almost every day I was in NJ - and it was *cold*.

Thanksgiving - we cook and argue and then sit down and say we love each other and then eat and argue some more. It's awesome. My little brother was hitting the cider a little too hard:

Obligatory group shot. Only this time we get to include my Grandmother. We are all just glad she put her teeth in for these - not that she's smiling anyway. (Evil!!)


Thank God I took the camera from my Mom - my family does better making freaky poses than trying to look normal.

Best part of the week? When Chelsea got drunk on white wine and tackled our little bro. She proceeded to drunkenly tell him that, even though she acts like she hates him, she really loves him a lot. And then she wrestled him till he died. YESssss!


I just don't know if I can handle Christmas at my house this year. Good Lord, there isn't enough wine for that.

Fat Black Pussycat

So I dragged my cousins to NY-City tonight. Fun times. I asked Frank to recommend a bar - so we head over to the East Village to "Fat Black Pussycat". I thought he was sending me to a leather bar. I was wrong. Out of all the bars we went to, this was pretty cool. I got lost going to the bathroom.

We had just enough time for three bars, one stop at a liquor store, one quick slice of pizza, and some drunken camera phone pics outside of Penn station.

There is a progression here, so I'll tell the story like a flip book.

I say, "Let's take drunk pictures! Yeah!" (metal hands)

So, Justin shows me what button to press on his "sidekick".

We like this one, so we think it should continue:


Chelsea and I are proud of our hats. Hey, the weather is colder than shit, we need hats.

Then we suddenly have a new friend whose name is 'JR'. Chelsea calls herself 'Shanikwa'. This makes me giggle.

Priceless. Penn Station, NY - I love you.

Then it's to the bathroom to pee - where we meet a lady with no teeth who hustles us for $2.00, a cigarette, and then some change before we escape. (Sidebar - the hustlers in SF could learn a thing or two from the ones in NY. It's colder, meaner, and bigger - they don't fuck around in NY, that shit is an art.)

On the NJ Transit on the return, more camera phone pics - we wanted to take advantage of the lighting and the 45 minute train-ride back to NJ.




Chelsea's shoes are the "converse" of mine and Justin's. Har-Har.

The night ends with us eating pizza and watching Poison Ivy 2 on HBO while the dog runs around getting into nasty dog trouble.

Fuckin' dog.

FIN

Dirty Jersey

This is Desiree DARK (Of Waiting Until Dark fame) and Meghan (side-kick extraordinaire) - uh - and me. In New Jersey.

The story goes like this: I go to Fanwood Liquor and grab a few bottles of wine. Then I think to myself, "OK. Ten people at the party, 5 bottles of wine = 1/2 bottle per guest....We need more wine."

Then Meghan, Desiree, Chelsea and myself drink it all. ALL.

And then we say - "Hey, mamma, it's fecking cold outside. Let's go smoke."

New Jersey isn't so bad. If you're drunk, listening to the right music, staying inside your own house, and hanging out with THESE cats.

Oh, and because Chelsea was too loaded to realize her ass needed to be in the pictures - here is one where she actually made it into the frame.


Oh, and as for the "FUCK" sign, ask Ms. Dark, she made it.

*Sigh* I miss my NJ women.

Dovre x2

I just have to add - that the D0vre club is my absolute favorite place to go. Where else can I take Angie to make eye contact with cute boys from across the bar...contemplating buying him shots so as to escape the weird straggling dude with red hair and creepy eyeglasses who won't stop talking to him. That last bit may make absolutely no sense - unless you were there with me tonight. But seriously. I bought a round of drinks the night before tonight (ie yesterday) on a line of credit with the bartender, Elvis. When I walked in tonight I reminded this most fabulous of bartenders that I owed him money. He proceeded to charge me for three drinks (the two I was buying tonight + only one of the two that I drank last night) because I, "Brought all my friends to the bar last night." I was just surprised that all my lame work friends behaved.

I just have to share that this bar is my new home away from Oakland.

And burritos are good.

And by home away from Oakland I mean the place makes me want to stay past closing - like a Tom Waits song - so I have to take a taxi home.

The Dovre Club is snuggly...and I love it.

Dovre

I can't explain how completely amazing the Dovre Club is. If earth was purgatory, the Dovre would be heaven...err...I mean to say that last one without the 'if'. It should be more of a declarative sentence. The Dovre IS the afterlife. Every time I go there I want to fucking snuggle into one of those couches and stay forever. I'm always hopping off the Bart on 24th and trying to restrain myself from running over there. I can never quite recall the walk BACK to the stupid Bart - but tonight I managed to get home anyway.

Boo.

If I stare at this for about two months and still completely love it, this might just have to be my next tattoo.

Oh, and you know what's scary on Halloween? Being packed onto the Bart train with 8 cars of drunk East Bay kooks in costume, going under the bay, and then stopping and starting....and stopping and starting...and stopping and starting...the...whole...way...through.