I was in NYC this weekend with the fiance to take care of some last-minute pre-wedding business such as haircuts and tying one on with bffs to celebrate getting married. And now, a photo-intensive retrospective.
The New York City we returned to this visit was not the same city I last spent significant time in last summer. More of my friends were unemployed-- not just friends in publishing, but an architect and an accountant, and another one in advertising now works in the Jerse with a 2-hour-each-way commute.
In Williamsjerk, condos intended to be purchased for spoiled brats by their rich parents are frozen in mid-construction.
But some things remain the same, like Rosemary's Greenpoint Tavern, frozen in time in a different way.
And there is still a surplus of superb food and beverage.
We were also treated to dinner at a new-ish restaurant Orchard, which was golden delicious.
Please do me a favor and enlarge this next photo to show detail.
And it's for sale!
Thursday night, I had to hit my former haunt Kate's Joint for old time's sake, even though it sucks now and I realize the food's kind of gross and overpriced. There, I met up with my hostess and former Naked Man Magazine collaborator, Jess. This fellow below fixated on us for quite a while.
(Look at my big Irish head and how desperately I needed a haircut! I had also attempted to dye my hair with natural dye-- fail.) So homeboy up there told Jess she looked like his ex-wife and told me I had the same hair as the girl he'd hooked up with last weekend who was now dead. Smooth moves! He persisted in hitting on me despite us pointing out my ring and telling him I was getting married in five seconds and even the statement "You missed the boat, buddy." No matter.
After that, a 9:30pm haircut! As you might imagine, post-Kate's lubrication we were mega chatty to hair gal Izumi, and drinking Sparks. WTF-- Sparks? I hate that stuff. I blame Jess.
Friday was quite rainy all day.
But Saturday was gorgeous! So we spent it in a museum. But only part of the day-- we met up with my family at the Met. I took numerous adorable photos of my little niece and nephew but don't like to post pictures of little kids with all the preverts out there.
I recommend the Met's Francis Bacon exhibit. This painting was my favorite, and apparently everyone else's as it was on all the merchandise in the gift shop.
The roof deck was hard to find via one obscure elevator, but well worth the trip, with views of Central Park and this treelike sculpture.
Then it was time for the bachelorette party. Here are my girls at dinner conspiring to decorate me with ridiculous props.
You see the results in the first picture of the post, above. The tiara says "Bachelorette Outta' Control," which is a registered trademark. That Bachelorette Outta' Control™ kit also came with games, a checklist of stunts, and stickers saying like "Best Kisser" and "Sexiest" and such. All of the copy of the BOC™ kit had a rather disturbing bent that "this is your last night out ever so you better pinch and kiss a bunch of dudes."
I preferred the type of event my friends and I created together, which involved rocking out and being a bunch of a-holes in a private karaoke room at Sing Sing. And it was certainly not a last time for that.
I felt so honored by the turnout and the planning that went into the night (led by my friend since childhood, Kim) and the special things my friends did, including shelling out for dinner & party zone in this terrible economy. More specialness: I got some sexy eye-talian lingeries from DJ Terre T, who also made cool love-themed T-shirts for everyone at the party, which were purposely not penis-themed so we can wear them in real life. My flight attendant friend Amanda provided buddy passes yet again so we could fly free, and took over money collection responsibilities at karaoke.
Roopa of Raspberry Eggplant fame made insanely delicious cupcakes! Please note penis straws.
And my former roommate Ellen wore this ridiculous dress we found at my favorite rummage sale back in college. (It's by Vested Gentress, FYI.)
(Please note the penis straw.)
I sang a million songs, including "Total Eclipse of the Heart," "Welcome to the Jungle," and "Mother."
In all, a really fun night. And to my relief, it wasn't even that outta' control™.
The next day a gang of us met for brunch and hit the Renegade Craft Fair at McCarren park. (That's the Hungry March Band below.)
I found bridesmaid tchotchkes and handcrafted earrings that were magically an exact blend of the two styles I'd been considering for the wedding day.
When we burned out on perusing crafts, we settled on a sheet on the grass, which turned into an impromptu picnic.
Those are giant take-out margs, Louisiana style! But fortunately New York -style pizza, which we had delivered to the park. Awesome.
We then went to comedy, where I was surprisingly outta' control™ in that I (unintentionally) booed a joke that was derisive against my man Patrick Swayze, which resulted in an exchange w/Dane Cook, Jr. up there on stage. Oops. (Blame it on the a-a-a-a-alcohol.) Come on, though. It ain't right to make fun of a dying man.
I was flying out Monday, but Jess hooked up an early-morning hair-modeling sesh at Bumble + Bumble for both of us so we got our hairs dyed free! So the trip was bookended by hairs being did. The color came out exactly how I wanted it, hooray!
Mr. fiance and I were worried about what doggie-inflicted destruction would meet us back at our house, but it was fairly minimal. Just one pair of shoes now missing their toe ends, and evidence of a run-in with a marker.
Coop had given himself a black marker tattoo on his hindquarters. Here it is, though faded.
And that wraps up another great trip home.