the best part of the weekend was all of it also, like borges' donut, and homer's donuts, and borges' algebra y fuego. it is because he puts those two together, blends donuts and something called a lorenz-principle that i overheard being yelled over and over in a dream on a barstool at seven in the morning that makes me love him so.
i saw nedelle outside my house, the day of the buffalo show, perhaps bursting with happiness. but she did not go see japanther and Aa and tender wizards and necking and snowsuit, and none of them went to see her show (even though jason did go see warbler). but still, everyone seemed to be happy and enjoyed themselves. except for the girl who threw beer at her boyfriends face. her words, loud and alot, were: "you fucked up! you fucked up! yes, you fucked up!" we guesstimated at what terrible calamity could have befallen this girl and her lover. jpnther ian mused: chill the fuck out (wait that wasnt musing). i speculated that perhaps he had impregnated another less fallow female. our friend rafie arrived late b/c he was at the zoning meeting (of all meetings to arrive late from) and heard her scream: "you put your tongue in her!" oh. our goddamn rattlesnake aka jay skin says: "maybe he thought she was an ice cream cone." you have to imagine someone who plays the banjo with someone else who looks like an elf (according to our friend rafie) and has one of those reverse hair patterns on their heads so peculiar to certain types of men: big beard and bald, and then it will be funny, because he is funny and i like jay. i've become kind of obsessed with this story of "putting one's tongue in her" and its seemingly dire consequences. particularly after conversations about how it can migrate. this invisible insidiousness nevertheless did not taint the rest of the afternoon. necking was great even though nick and jason were both way too nervous and they did suffer moderate equipment collapse. i thought nick's incorporation of the fallen cymbal stand quite an ingenious save. (you know, this is how i really talk to myself sometimes, in my head. i use words like 'quiteaningenioussave.' ug). i unfortunately missed snowsuit scrambling around in the mist foraging for food. this was the first time i've actually seen japanther despite i think over twelve attempts at various parties shows ect. maybe that's why i shook and danced so hard, their songs were new to me. tender wizards definitely get better and better each time i see them play. the lead singer's intensity has been noted more than once by an acute observer. and the bassist is a good one. and the guitarist reminds me of hot dogs that i would actually like to eat, with slobby mustard that you dont mind getting on your nose, and a chop of onion or two. it was the perfect break and prelude to the hyper-masculine tribal dawn of mankind drumming circle that necking and Aa bookended. i feel bored by this story now. okay well Aa were much better than when i saw them at toddp's opening loft party and the uncle and mike sweet kvetched all the way home about how they needed pop melody and structure in music. oh but the dog! the dog that sen saw on acid and tried to take into the schoolhouse party where snow ponies were riden and stolen and steven chen left his drunk cellphone in a cabbie who would not let me get off the phone with him at four thirty in the morning biking around scary broadway and flushing looking for a drunk snow pony! that was a great dog! i wish i could take that dog with me for a month at bard. then i would truly stretch the limits of my skin and possibly burst with happiness. doggles aka pupples and oso, together roaming with me, spade and trowel in my hand, digging for fire and spearing for trees.
i love seeing other people bursting with happiness, a night at the chocolate factory turned picnic at the nuclear reactor laboratory. we went to see adam play at the east river bar (see barzine) on monday night and tuesday morning i got home at 8:30 AM because one great man wanted to experience the accomplishment of another great man, a man who had stayed at a bar, in williamsburg mind you, for 48 hours straight. impossible we cooed, and staunchly he resisted all and any efforts at retreat, until finally, torn by care for his fallen soldiers, one a lieutenant captain second-in-command (who had won a medal of bravery just two nights prior in the battle of schoolhouse rock and the ensuing snow pony incident in east bushwick) fallen on a red pleather-vinyl bench, flocked velvet swimming before sleepy eyes; and another, first-in-command, a mercurial russian Hermes much too much to say and much too many consequences to deliver, enboldened by their third consenting comrade, skiply straight and tall, bid their leader homeward bound. after routing the imposters, sweet as they were, our general ("i love this guy because he's so smart he smashes atoms for a living yet all he wants to do is smash his brain cells--from the russian hermes) took us home. for several different non-consecutive moments that night, i thought he would burst from happiness. i suppose those moments occur manytimes without me seeing them, at inoppurtune moments with russians and ponies and hot dogs and other kinds of vast murky floatation devices, things that keep him from drowning. we all need them, we all get tired of swimming alone, the sea gets so thirsty without a drink.
all i can say is yes. despite everything (cometbus omnibus!), despite sobriety, despite insecurity, despite longing for the kiss and the cup, i love hanging out with drunk people, and i hope that i am a great girl (i try to be). this was a great weekend.
ps: this is the two year anniversary of "wow last night was so fucking fun" post. what a befitting tribute. i knew my internet diary slash old 'drunk' log would come to my senile aid. 'wow last night was so fucking fun' was for me, yes one of the funnest nights of my life, when i was TRULY burst asunder avec jouissance. or something. he he. or not quite that fast asunder but whatever i knew from first whiff that it had to happen. that nite sean p k was supposed to go with me to liminal gallery but probably b/c of my recent gentle turn from him, declined at the last minute to go to another, more enticing party (perhaps luis from pansy division was throwing one again like the other ones i went w/ spk to?). that nite zoey walked the runway modeling a beautiful black dress sewn by i forget but whose jacket i still have when i would later stand on milkcrates with zoey modeling for him at spanganga gallery. but by then "wow last night was so fucking fun" had already happened and i could never go back to not having fun. and did deerhoof play? or hella? and me grabbing probably yanking sen's arm excitedly asking does he still have a girlfriend? sen shaking his head with that sen-ish gleam, steam slowly gathering heat waiting for the right pan to boil over and evaporate into, that is the sen-ish gleam: "...noOOo........(ding!!) you should totally try to make out with him!" i think i might have made that last part after noOOo up and other people might tell me i'm just a drunk gambler, whose chips were betting on craps already, just waiting for the fall. but then again i hardly ever listen to what other people say, thats what used to make me such a drunk gambler. i'm gonna go listen to 'these days' and that first nicky darger song now. that scene in royal tenenbaums, that scene when gwen paltrow steps off the bus, that's when owen wilson was bursting most with happiness. that's my favorite scene of the movie.