the diary of antoine roquentin

Ever have one of those weeks go by where it seems like all of this great stuff to write about it happening and going by, but you don’t actually seem to have the time to sit down and write about it?

I have had the time though, in spades. I’ve just been wasting it in rather stupid ways. I fired up this old computer game that I used to play in high school and before I knew it was 5 AM. That was last night. Tonight hasn’t been as unproductive, but I don’t have a whole lot to show for it, considering that it’s almost 4 AM tonight.

What did I do in the past seven days? Let’s see… I went to see !!! at the Williamsburg waterfront. It was a really fun show, although it was threatening to rain the entire time.

Javelin + JD Samson

I went down to meet Matt at the Soho Grand after work last week to see Javelin again. We thought there was going to be this huge line, but we ended up walking into this little area of Astroturf with the members of Javelin (who we talked to briefly) and J.D. Samson (formerly of Le Tigre, who was to DJ that night) looking like she had the biggest dick in the room.

There was this circle of hip looking lesbians that were subtly orbiting her, wishing that she would talk to them, but they were out of luck. She was untouchable. Even the guy from Javelin gave up his seat when she came back from the bar with a drink. The regulars started to file in (you know, those people you see at a bunch of shows but never know in real life). Matt has such a gift for recognizing celebrities—the guy from Blonde Redhead was a few rows behind us when the show started.

After the band played, the crew arrived (Hannah, Steven, Anthony, Bianca, etc.) I was out of cash and there was a limit on credit cards, so I ended up double fisting my third and fourth of these extremely strong frozen margaritas, which got me fucked up beyond reason. I normally wouldn’t have done so, but I was with Matt, so I knew I wouldn’t end up in a gutter somewhere.

UPDATE: We got onto one of the nightlife blogs.

Word to the wise: tequila is not my drink. We stumbled back to his apartment and basically didn’t leave other than to get food for the next day or two. Quotidian as it is, I think the most important thing in a relationship is to just be able to get along with the other person for long periods of time without getting on each other’s nerves. I think we’ve all been in the situation in dating where we feel like we are kind of putting on an act and that the mask is getting a bit stuffy. I never have to have a mask on, which is good.

The Rue Morgue, Rainstorms

Sunday was one of those days where I should’ve just stayed home, although I knew that I did have to leave the house at some point. I had made plans to go see one of those 50s 3-D movies that the Film Forum is showing, but there was all this drama with the Q train, so I had to take the Shuttle and catch the C at Franklin Ave., which made me about twenty minutes late. I always find it very unsettling when they say there is an “incident.” An incident could be trash on the tracks or a chemical weapon attack. Can we have some kind of color-coded danger level system?

I ran into Yevgeny outside the movie theater, and we walked over to the Amy’s Bread on Bleecker. We had gone in there a few other times, having a slice of great carrot cake and sitting at the small bar that looks out onto the street. He told me of his exciting date with the new guy, and I shared about the goings-on that week. We watched the rain come down and all the well-dressed people flitting to and fro on Bleecker until it was time to head back to the Forum.

The movie we saw, The Phantom of the Rue Morgue, was about this trained ape that would kill people. However, the thing that made it a hilarious movie (in a bad way) was that the main character of the inspector, who is supposed to be solving the crimes, is a complete idiot. It wasn’t just the inspector’s character that was wooden and unbelievable… certain snippets of dialogue, like “it was an animal—no—an animal with hands!” were so cringe-worthy that the audience would erupt in laughter.

I think everyone in that theater was happy for the movie to be over. Also, the 3-D presentation kept giving me this really uncomfortable feeling behind my eyes. It was like a headache, but whenever I would take the glasses off it would dissipate. As to the effect of 3-D in the movie, the times that it was most noticeable were kind of lame in that they emphasized the cheapness of a lot of the sets.

Yevgeny and I parted ways at 14th St, but I still had to go over to Union Square and get some groceries. I had just gotten off of the F, and was thinking I’d walk the few avenues over to Whole Foods. As I wearily climbed up the stairs, I heard the dull roar of a torrential downpour echoing through the air vents and the entrances.

Thinking that it would be a short walk, I used my jacket as a makeshift umbrella and started down 14th St. It was about 8 PM on a Sunday, which wouldn’t be terribly populated anyway, but the streets were empty. Save for the occasional person hunched in a doorway waiting for a taxi, my walk was solo. As I approached 5th Ave, some guy walked past me, struggling with his shirt. He eventually got it off and started walking quickly parallel to my course on the other side of the street. It seemed like a nascent music video shoot, but he continued out of sight. The first block or two I was very glad that I wore my boots, but as I approached 4th Avenue, I realized that my socks were wet and my (non-waterproof) jacket was beginning to saturate with rain.

Drenched, I tried to shake out (and wring out) my jacket in the entrance to Whole Foods. Picking up a basket, I went around on my normal shopping visit: challah, peaches, apples, oranges, carrots. The subway entrance is right in front of the store, so I immediately went down to the L platform. “8th Ave—28 Minutes”, the sign read. Ridiculous! I went back up and caught the R five minutes later.

I was so glad to get home and get out of my wet clothes. Despite the ordeal, I felt satisfied that I’d left the house and made something of the day. The next day, I felt rather ill and drank a bunch of tea. I think I feel all right now. We’ll see in the morning.

Long Distance

I called Christen tonight, which of course means we had a 3+ hour conversation. My long-distance friends are strange. Sam and I will have a few five-minute conversations throughout the week, where Christen and I build up all sorts of things to tell each other for a month or two, then let it all out in this epic conversation.

I can’t believe it’s been a year since I went out to visit Patrick. His life must’ve changed. I never hear from him when he is in a relationship.

I did write a card to someone I’ve never written one to today. I need to go put it out in the mailbox tomorrow. One of the things I hate about living in a city is that the mailman doesn’t pick up your letters at your house.

Amanda, baby.

I forgot to mention the most important thing of the past week: I met Amanda Lepore. Matt and I had always meant to go to this night she hosts, called Carnival, above this bowling alley off of Union Sq.

So this Wednesday we just decided to get it over with and go. We got there rather early, and had an expensive drink or two waiting for the action to start. Everything started to get going at about midnight. We walked by Michael Musto on the way to the bar, surveying the crowd. There were mostly-naked carnival barkers operating the strength test game with the mallet, and nerdier stock tending the booths with the ring toss and such. This man in leather kept walking around on stilts, but never seemed to be going anywhere. Another waif-like (but horrendously ugly) guy specialized in semi-erotic hula-hooping.

I was getting to the point where I really didn’t want to bother Amanda like everyone else was with their request to take pictures with her, but Matt decided to just go through with it. The picture came out well, I think. I didn’t realize she was so short.

Belinda, Belinda

The most kitschy thing I did all week was to go see the B-52s at Coney Island. Matt and I weren’t really sure whether we were going to go all week, but when the day rolled around we decided that we should. I had lived in the area a year and still hadn’t been to Coney Island (near where Matt grew up).

Right after we got off the subway, we ran into Bianca and a friend of hers, who told us to meet them after they got back from picking up some food. We walked up to the boardwalk for a little bit, got some ice cream, and then found a place to sit. Bianca and the friend graciously shared their blanket with us as we waited through the terrible performance of the opener, Belinda Carlyle (with no backing band). It was “Heaven is a Place on Earth” karaoke edition.

The B52s actually put on a rather fun show, but I think the thing that was most fun was watching the crowd around us react. Some people were diehard B-52s fans but for the most part the audience had just come out because it was free. We danced 60s dances to “Rock Lobster,” and all headed home.