Yoshi, Rice Cooker
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4577/2302/320/DSCF2093.jpg)
I suppose it's been a few days since I've had some time to write anything. I've been up to my neck in self-inflicted nonsense for the past week. I had been complaining of mild boredom since my return to NY (mostly because I am accustomed to being on a bus that never stops moving or on an airplane that drops me on a different continent every few days). I even resorted to seeing Pirates of the Caribbean (for the second time) and the remake of The Wicker Man (which, for real, is the worst movie that I have ever seen, it's almost worth the eleven dollars to see Nicholas Cage haul off and punch a woman in the face and then throw another across a bar...I am totally serious). So, in the midst of my off tour ennui I made a few phone calls to try to get some work around the city that didn't involve me actually touching, picking up or moving anything heavier than a bagel and wouldn't occupy my time for more than a day or two. I've gone and done it, and now I am in the middle of planning two tours, one post-fashion show party and I am also preparing myself for a trip to Alaska in nine days, as well as losing it...just a bit.
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4577/2302/320/DSCF2083.jpg)
My hood has again become over run with construction. They have literally dug a giant hole, paved it, dug it up again, paved it again and have now decided that it may be a good idea to dig it up. This has been ongoing for about six months or so, frequently before seven in the morning and occasionally on Saturdays. I was doing my laundry the other day wondering why these guys feel the need to make such a mess and why it takes them so long to do anything. I decided to document the progress. I watched this one guy bang a piece of steel with a hammer for twenty minutes as his friend looked on. I am starting to understand why this is a never-ending project.
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4577/2302/320/DSCF2102.jpg)
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4577/2302/320/DSCF2103.jpg)
I leave for Alaska on the 14th and will be gone for just about two weeks. I will be north of Fairbanks a ways and will be away from phone, computer, construction work and generally people and their nasty little faces for some time. I can't wait. I also have realized how ill-prepared I may be for this trip. My new hiking boots just arrived in the mail and I'm expecting to get some really comfortable thermal underwear today, but other than that I feel that I may have underestimated this little outing. I will be traveling a few hundred miles north of the Arctic Circle along a major oil pipeline, doing a bit of hiking, maybe a bit of camping, hopefully a lot of surviving potential bear attacks. I don't know, maybe I am second guessing my own ability. I've been reading up on Alaska for weeks, and I have a fiery passion for the outdoors since I've moved back to NY. I have also been in far more dangerous situations. Now I am just rambling and confusing my eager anticipation with common self-doubt. It will just be an adjustment from Brooklyn, I think, but goddamn am I looking forward to it. I even went shopping for pants the other day. The key to staying warm is layers, so you want to buy your pants big...
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4577/2302/320/DSCF2096.jpg)
As I was lamenting, I decided to take on some extra work because most of my friends are out of town and I don't know what to do with myself. So, I am in the middle of piecing together a Raconteurs (Raccoontours?) show at the Prada store this Friday. It is quickly becoming a nightmarish prospect to stage a rock show in an upscale retail store. The band is meant to play right here:
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4577/2302/320/DSCF2109.jpg)
I am pulling an almost all-nighter tonight to get ready for tomorrow. It is going to be an ugly one, for sure. Hopefully someone will bring me Two Boots pizza again. Two Boots, I am convinced, is the absolute best pizza in the world. Yesterday I had something with white cheese and sweet sausage that made me want to weep into my iced tea. When I worked at the Bowery Ballroom years ago I was forbidden from going to Two Boots because our softball team was in the same intramural league as their team and we always lost to a bunch of skinny, South American pizza chefs. I felt truly deprived.
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4577/2302/320/DSCF2112.jpg)
Last weekend the sky looked amazing. These big, fluffy clouds hovered right over your head and seemed to change shape every few minutes. It was pretty spectacular, although I am sure that it was signaling impending doom of some sort. Either way, here are a few pictures:
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4577/2302/320/DSCF2086.jpg)
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4577/2302/320/DSCF2088.jpg)
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4577/2302/320/DSCF2089.jpg)
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4577/2302/320/DSCF2091.0.jpg)
1 Comments:
SO as I read you ramblings I got to thinking. GG allen should really be indited into the rock and roll hall of fame. I'd start a petition if i wasn't so lazy.
Post a Comment
<< Home