Si me han de matar...

I would write more often--to an annoying level--if I weren't so fucking busy. Most of the time I just waste a lot of time, but this week, I really was very busy! I feel sad, the lack of sleep is catching up to me. So let us recap this hectic week, or what I remember of it.

Monday was the calm before the storm. I wrote some notes so I wouldn't forget, because what follows is very important, sort of:

3/27, my note begins. Blue Subaru. One of the twins + Kazu + a dog. V. v. cute. Can't believe they can drive. It drove into St. Marks.

To clarify, I'm surprised that the people from Blonde Redhead can drive because I think of them as a very New York band, so I just expect people from NYC to be unable to drive. But then, there's plenty of folks who aren't native to the city, like Blonde Redhead. A lot of bands either move here thinking they can get a deal or become stars; sometimes people just move here and start making music because, like, all their friends start jamming together and, y'know, shit "just happens". Do I sound like a bitch? That's not my point. My point is, I always figured Blonde Redhead would be the sort of band to walk everywhere in New York City and to ride bikes and motorcycles and horses. That is all.

Later, Claudia and I met and had a late lunch. We went to this small Thai place, aptly named Mini Thai Cafe, which was, of course, on Avenue A. (Look it up on Menupages!) We actually saw Etherea Paul walk by the place. He was probably walking home. Anyway, I'm still an idiot about Thai food, still sticking to my beloved pad thai, but seriously, it was ridiculously good. The best I've had so far.

I had plans to go see José Gonzalez, but by 6 o'clock I was feeling real fucking tired, and I went home sort of mad at myself that I'd given up instead of just waiting a little longer.

Tuesday I had a really busy day, or at least it felt like it. I had to go to a Community Board meeting. I should be writing about it for my reporting class right now. Instead I've been downloading a shitload of music videos and checking my email incessantly and... well, sort of writing this on the side. Anyway, I'll move on.

The Community Board meeting was absolutely fantastic. But even more fantastic was passing by Etherea and seeing this mess of curly hair inside the store and realizing it was Rachel, my hetero life partner! So I sort of just stood in front of the door, looking in, and just as I did, Rachel turned her head to the door, and saw me. I must be pretty ugly in real life, cos she looked pretty spooked to see me standing there.

We gabbed a bit and Louis pointed to me and said, "Aha! Repeat offender!" I didn't know what he meant. He asked me if I hadn't been in the store earlier. I was like, NO! I'M NOT THAT LAME! (Actually, I sort of am, but let's say I'm not.) Anyway, Rachel was there buying a Kraftwerk album for her brother's birthday. It is also the Kraftwerk album I've been eyeing for ages and never had the balls to buy because there's only like, 5 tracks in that album.

And this is the point where I explain that I have a short attention span, and although I can appreciate long songs, it can be brutal for me to get through them.

Whatever, so Rachel walked me to this public school where the Community Board was meeting. The meeting was so great. Three of my other classmates showed up. Anyway, this dude from NYU came, and the board members tore him apart. Ooh, they were so nasty. What's that called, schadenfreude? Yeah, I felt it as I watched him go down. This one woman was particularly compelling in arguing that NYU is fucking taking over the world, so I watched her as she slowly made her way out, and I followed her out. Except other people were affected by her, too, because it took her so long to get the hell out of the auditorium in which the meeting was held. She was taking her time talking to this man worried about Trader Joe's wine store opening, and it was very lovely watching her speak to him, except she was taking a longass time, and I really wanted her name. There was another girl, another journalism student I guess, who wanted to bother her, too. She gave us her card and we left her alone. Her name is Suzannah B Troy, and I think she's sort of awesome.

I got home very late.

Wednesday--that would be yesterday--we had a guest in my class. His name is Manuel Muñoz and he writes. He came a little late to our class because he had to get off work. He says he works at a cubicle in some publishing house. I thought he was going to be a stereotypically gay dude, just from the constant mention of homosexuality in his short story collection. Thank god he wasn't. He sat in front of us, and he was no caricature of the suffering gay artist who grapples with identity on a daily basis. Oh, it was beautiful. He was a whole person, and by the end of class I just wanted to cry, not because it was bad but because I finally understood. He shared so much with us, and his answers to our questions were so sharp, and he really wanted to hear what we had to say.

I felt like maybe he understood art. He said, "The only reason I say I wanna make it big is so that maybe someone will be able to translate it into Spanish... so my mom can read it..." It was the sort of thing that was so intimate that all I wanted to do was shout, "Pass the Kleenex, please!", just to relieve the tension. But I understood why it pained him so much, and I couldn't even do that.

After class, I went to Barnard to hear this woman, Asma Barlas, speak about her feminist interpretation of the Qur'an. Jesus--no pun intended--, that apotrophe on Qur'an is hard to place. All last night, I wrote "Qu'ran" on my notebook. Man, I feel like a moron, like when this girl told me that Muslims don't say "mosque" but "masjid". I went to this lecture for class, to substitute for not being able to go to the Jeff Chang. It was pretty interesting, if a bit heavy. I mean, talking about the word of God/Allah is heavy stuff, ain't it?

I thought the greatest thing about the whole experience was not having to show my fucking ID. At NYU, we have to show our IDs fucking everywhere. It's a hassle. Here, I felt free. If only Morningside Heights didn't suck ass as a neighborhood, I wouldn't mind going to Barnard.

Wait a minute, yeah I would. Hell yeah I would hate going to Barnard. The commute is a bitch. You'd think, "It's closer to the Bronx, easier to reach, right?" WRONG MUTHAFUCKAS! I switched so many trains because I wanted to get home as soon as possible, but ended up home at like, 11 at night. It was ridic to the nth power! GAWD! I was so fucking tired from having been up since 6 in the morning...

I should tell you, on Monday, I heard the voice of God, sort of. I listened to Odetta for the first time ever, and seriously, I felt very honored to hear it.

In other news, my Deerhoof show review is finally up. I'm very happy about that. I hope the band notices and realizes I meant well. It's not very good, but I meant well.