Oh my god, how in the world could I have forgotten to mention this in my last post? So remember how I went to the LA Weekly party with Laura right when I'd gotten into town? Well right when I got there, Laura introduced me to one of her friends, and he was like "I know this guy, I read his website!" Tavis, Laura's boyfriend was in disbelief. He was like "People you don't know read your website?" As soon as he said it, almost on cue, a girl walking by sees me, stops, grabs my arm and screams "OH MY GOD, YOU KEEP A DIARY!" and then laughs and walks away.
Later that night when I got home, she had emailed me. She introduced herself as Ellen Griley (Hi Ellen!) and was at the party because she works for the OC Weekly paper (also owned by Village Voice Media). She invited us to come down and check out the LBC "so we could flash all of our favorite gang signs and really mean it" and attend her friend's annual THONGSGIVING party. Thongsgiving? Clearly this was a group that Grant and I could roll wit. Here's Grant and I with Ellen. Woooo!
Some of you may remember him from back in October of 2002, when he was just a leeeetle baby. Here's a pic from back then when Ross and Jord were getting ready to move to LA and we went out to Ross' parents in NJ to see the baby and see them off.
After bidding farewell to Dash and Jord, Ross took me to VH1's production offices to show me the television pilot (that he created and exec produced) starring none other than...
First thing I did upon arriving in town on Wednesday evening was pick up Kim Wilson (my senior prom date, awwww) who was in town from North Carolina and head over to a bar in town called "The Barn," which before all major holidays is the best place to find other people you went to high school with.
With a belly fulla greasy C-grade meat, Frank, the Fatty and I decided to call it an early night. Here's Seth giving the international sign for "you're a pussy."
Miye wasn't ready to brave the karaoke stage solo, so I helped ease her on in by teaming up for a duet. She spent more time sucking down her drink than she did singing.
Leila took a quick break from her make out sesh to writhe and gratuitously cup her breasts next to me on stage while I sang. Thanks for that, hon. Motley Crue karaoke just isn't the same without a girl on the stage touching herself and shimmying suggestively.
First off check out Vin's face (hahahah)! So after getting a clutch shot of Emma with the "pressed hams" move, I thought I'd continue the streak and take one of my famous "You're posing with my balls but you don't know that you are" pictures with Crazy Marni. The plan was that I'd go up to her with them out, snap a couple of shots to lull her into a false sense of security, and then turn the camera lengthwise introducing my plums into the equation. Everything was going smoothly until...
After we finished eating, the plan was for Emma and Lorelei to call and say that we should meet them at the Sunburned Cow, a bar all the way over on Avenue C. We'd try to arrive right at 10pm, and everyone would jump out yell "Surprise!" (hopefully both surprising Grant and scaring the living shit out of him simutaneously).
Here's Chris and Fatty back at my apartment getting ready to head back to their respective homes - so ends our journey.
Between the three of us that had cameras, we managed to take just over 2,000 pictures which I edited down to 21 entries comprised of exactly 790 photos. And so it's with these last few words that I end the European Vacation Series (which is by far, the longest diary project I've ever undertaken). Back to life in NYC!
Here's another one. This one's my pensive and artsy "I'm acting like the camera's not there, but clearly I must know it is because I'm the one who took the picture" picture. Who's more emo than me? Motherfuck this photo diary nonsense, I'm gonna get me a LiveJournal. (ps - look at the two cutey patooties passed out next to me like little sleeping lambs. Teeheehee.)
Two weeks after leaving my job I decided it was time to hit the interview circuit. Here's me on my way to interview with at the (in)famous Faith Popcorn about a position at her BrainReserve consultancy.
Saturday morning I was awaken by my friend Grant's Uncle Phil (Philthy Phil!), who was in town on business from Norway! Turns out, he was walking around with his business associate in Chinatown mere blocks from my apartment. I asked where he'd like to meet up and he asked "Is there a pub around that's open yet?" (Keep in mind, this is like 10:30am). So we headed to Spring Lounge and shot the shit and grabbed a few pints.
Friday night I went out with Vin and Matty - we were sitting in the Two Boots Pizza on Bleecker and Bway, having ourselves a lil' slizzice at 2am-ish, when suddenly a six-person fight broke out that lasted for more than ten minutes. I was so stunned I totally shit the bed and didn't even take any pictures. I was so entralled I think I'd forgotten I even owned a camera. Anyway, here's a pic of us afterwards laughing about it while we stood around watching the pizza workers explain to the cops (who took forever to show up) what had happened.
And then on the way out, this guy (Bryan Carlin) came up to me because he reads this site and recognized me! We actually since become friends (and I even hired him to do a freelance coding project for the new company I'm working for!). Strangers really are just friends that you haven't met. (Except for some of them, they're just assholes you haven't met yet).
What's better than three Roxbury grads in one pic? How about six mothafucking Roxbury Grads in one pic? Insanity. Bev, Chris, Colin Badini, Ian, Emily and me.
Friday night I headed out to Hoboken with fellow Roxbury High School graduates Emily Cmielewski and Bev Chase to see our friend Christina Alessi's band (also RHS alum, baby) Hey Tiger play at Maxwell's.
And we were even treated to yet ANOTHER (late-comer) RHS arrival...Amanda Polk (who still won't make out with me. It's been like 10 years already. Seriously, WTF?)
I decided to celebrate to celebrate my first week of not working with the purchase of an enormous Costa Rican pineapple that was the size of my head from the wonderful produce stand on my block ($3! Can you believe that).
After icing my angry toe, I donned the lovely Gemma's sleep mask and slipped off to Nigh-nigh land to dream of slutty Essex girls and homeward bound airplanes.
My disco finger brings all the girls to my yard. I could teach you but I've have to charge. (By the way, if I die anytime soon, make sure this pic finds its way into the casket collage, mmmkay?)
We wanted to eat lots of stinky, spicy Indian food - that way if none of us managed to pull in the clubs later that night, we could all blame it on our kicking BREAFFF! (Hey, it worked in Greece, right?)
I'm such a lightweight - nothing makes me sleepier than having a few beers in the afternoon. Not wanting to be at anything less than full capacity for our big night touring Essex's finest nightclubs (ok, ok and also wanted to spend some more QT with Gemma's fragrant pillow...mmmmm, Gemma), I opted to take a quick nap. Somebody snuck in (the Fatty, I think) and managed to grab this pic (which is one of the few pics on the site of a person sleeping that doesn't also have someone's genitalia in close proximity to their face).
Remember all the way back in the beginning of the trip when Chris, Fatty and I were in Iceland and we had the "Guess what time the sun will rise" contest where the winner would get to sleep in Gemma's bed? Well, I won. None of us could figure out why Grant didn't freak out when we told him about what we'd said the prize was....until we discovered that Gemma had gone to Brazil with her boyfriend and wasn't even around! Here's me enjoying my winner's prize...and dreaming of Gemma alone in bed.
And to add insult to injury, Gemma's since gotten herself engaged. Boooo! Er, I mean congrats, Gemma!). We turned out the lights and tried to get some sleep in preparation for next day's whirlwind tour of the town and evening of Essex nightlife!
...ESSEX! That's right! We were heading out to Grant's parent's house in Essex to hang with his family and so he could show us around Corringham, the town he spend his formative years in.
...we arrived safely and without incident (save a slight yelling match between Grant and the rest of the passengers in the car who politely asked him if he would "SLOW THE FUCK DOWN SO DON'T HYDROPLANE OFF THE ROAD AND DIE FOR FUCK'S SAKE!") at Grant's parent's home and celebrated with some stiff drinks...
After fucking around for too long in Bali, we ended up having to make the 35 minute trip back to our condo at dusk (freezing our asses off the whole way). After dropping the bikes off and picking up our car, we headed to a nearby restaurant for an early dinner.
And me. Someone call your high school photo teacher, I think what we've got here is a "work of art! " I call this one "Self-Reflections of a Helmeted Scooterteer."
I totally forgot to mention that the temperature had dropped sharply from the previous day and was in the low 50s, which might not sound too cold, but when you're riding a scooter at 50mph with no gloves, it's almost unbearable. Here's me using the exaust to defrost my frozen lil' phalanges.
Our bellies full of warm doughnut, we hit the open road. We decided to take a 45 km backroads trip to check out the bad-ass Arkadi Monastery and then from there, if we had enough light, ride another 25 km and check out the Melidoni Caves.
