The Perfect Nightclub

I'll say this blog is the result of an extended daydream which begin with a question (by G) that went something like this:
"If you won Mega-Millions, would you hire me?"

To which I responded, yes "You would be event planner, project coordinator at my nightclub - Destiny."

WHY DESTINY?... because it's GONNA HAPPEN regardless. The only question is..will you meet it?
A daydream is born.

My perfect nightclub, would be divided up like a grid. Split into two sections - couples on right side, singles on the left. My doormen (one that would look like Andre 3000, the other one Big Boi) would send each group to their respective side of the steps. This would remove most of the squabbling that results when couples/singles club together because the opposing partner would dance with someone else. Plus the only thing couples love more than their own coupliness is .....ANOTHER COUPLE. Also the pressure of hooking up that pesky third wheel party would be alieved because the wheel would have no choice but to go to the Singles section.

*Also as an added convenience to our couples we offer childcare hours of 12-3..a.m.

But fear not singles, DESTINY will take care of you. If you see no one you know, or no good options on the dance floor you will be furnished with an ON-Call hottie. Several generic hot escorts will dance with you, engage in conversation and occasionally pinch your behind just for that real club feel. Our waiters and waitresses work only for Mardi Gras beads.
Gas is high don't spend your money! Use beads!

Destiny is further divided into subfloors for all musical tastes. If you are lacking confidence in your two-step, join us for the Electric Cha-Cha slide. A floor continuously dedicated to the easiest dances known to man. Anybody can do this and look good. Test your skills here ladies before the "booty is on hydraulics" floor challenge. We also have a house music floor in the sublevels, that's right - bring your glow sticks and dance like you are having an epileptic fit.

Don't forget to check out our NO corner. Solely dedicated to those non-dancers that stand on the front lines of dignity and refuse to drop it likes its hot.

If you are hungry sit down in our lavish taco bar. Dip your bowl in the river of Salsa. Attitudes aside ladies no hamburger throwing allowed. That's all they serve is tacos, because ...that is MY FAVORITE FOOD (and it is.. my daydream).

If you find yourself too intoxicated, or sick from tacos, or err both; be sure to pass out on our SOFA. We only have one, but hell, I can't carry you and I don't want you driving.

DESTINY.
MEET IT.
I'M OUT.

My POV of NYC

I forgot that I've yet to recap my recent trip to NYC, and since we could all use some fluff around here, considering hurricanes, trigger-happy police, poverty all around (us three & abound), and countless other examples of crappery. Since it is Friday & my brain has ceased to work, I will outline my trip in little baby chunklets.

The Accommodations:

We stayed on the 17th floor of the famed Waldorf-Astoria, a hotel forever burned in my memory as the hotel that King & Queen Jaffe Jaffur stayed at in the film Coming to America. I have to say, my electronic friends, this hotel did not suck. Our room had a doorbell, which I thought was very lovely, if entirely useless as we only had one room. A light knock would have sufficed. The best thing about this hotel, aside from the cheesy bravado when ordering a cab driver to take you to the Waldorf, was how comfy the beds were. I would have been totally okay with just staying in bed watching Big Brother. Hey man, it's my vacation. I only have 480 thread-count at home!

The Tourist Traps:
We purchased something called a "New York Pass" which gets you into all sorts of crap, so we had a laundry list of places to go. Our first day there we did the Empire State Buidling, which I found sort of meh. Directly after was the NYC Skyride inside the Empire State Building which was equally meh, besides it being narrated by Kevin Bacon (Hench's man) & featuring a recently departed Scotty from Star Trek. In other landmarky-type stuff, we took the Circle Line cruise out to the Statue of Liberty. She's tall & green. That's about it.

We did the NBC Studios Tour, and the most exciting thing about that was checking out the clay figures from the claymation episode of Conan. Other than that, the NBC Studios Tour was a massive marketing campaign for HDTV (which our tour guide frequently flubbed as HGTV aka the evil network that dominates like 78% of my television watching time with all them damn House Hunters reruns). Seriously, they were pushing HDTV hard, probably cause they've gotta spend a bazillion dollars upgrading their shit & actually having to make decent sets (instead of using duct tape to indicate metal trim on the Dateline set, etc.), they'll make us spend a coupla bucks on a new damn tv to appreciate it.

Also on the tourist-trap route was the mandatory visit to Madame Toussaud's wax museum. Not that I've ever fronted like I'm some kind of sophisticated lady or anything, but goddamn this place is fun. Where else can you knee the President in the junk & not get tackled? I mean, I mysteriously have been audited in the two weeks since I've been there, but whatever!

Seriously though, I almost got put in wax museum jail as I have medically-documented poor balance. In trying to get this picture in, I nearly toppled our dear (pff!) president for reals.



Actual Culture:

We went to see Spamalot, starring my (gay?, I don't even know) boyfriend Tim Curry as the Arthur King. I can't even hate on Condi wanting to go see this shit cause it was the bizomb. The Lady of the Lake's costumes were so shiny & fantastical that the 5 year old in me was totally awoken and wanting to be her for Halloween.

Our shiny New York Pass allowed us to whisk to the front of the line at the Museum of Modern Art, where I stupidly forgot to bring my camera. Actually, I didn't know I was allowed to photograph anything so I didn't bother bringing it. But I did snap a pic of this OOF painting with my phone because I thought it would make a good wallpaper (on the phone). No, I didn't catch who painted the damn thing, and No I don't feel bad about that. I don't have conversations where I have to prove that I know crap about art, so I'll just save that real estate in my brain. Now, if we're talking about the history of the lives of the residents of a fictional town of Salem, USA as depicted on the critically-underappreciated television series Days of Our Lives, well, fasten your seatbelts. Because I DO often have to match wits on that business.

In other culture taking-ining, we also went to the Museum of Television & Radio. When I win the Mega Millions I am totally going to give this museum some money. It was D-O-P-E. First, you go up to the library, where you hopped on some 15 year old Apple computer & could look up any damn television or radio program in HISTORY. You could pick up to four & they send you down to the viewing room to check em out. So what did I do with this awesome opportunity to use the world's biggest TiVo? Watch JFK's funeral? No. First Moonwalk? No. Listen to the original War of the Worlds broadcast? NO! The three programs I chose were

(1. First Episode of Days of Our Lives, 1965: This was AWESOME. Alice & Tom before gray hair & Julie as a pre-teen! Also, soap operas were originally shot live so there were plenty of line flubs. The best part, though, was when Marie Horton's fiancee said (I think he was ad-libbing) "You wanton hussy!", when his fiancee intimated that she couldn't wait to get married so they could get busy.

(2. Conan's first show, 1994: I loves me some Conan.

(3. Last Episode of My So-Called Life : Holy crap. Brian Krakow! Even though this was, like, the greatest tv show of all time, I'm sort of glad it only lasted one season (like Freaks & Geeks) and didn't have a chance to get shitty.


So, those were the highlights (or lowlights, depending who you ask).

Waa!

I was digitally abandoned today by a certain G, I won't hold it against you since you are working.

I was saddened.......AGAIN to find my favorite blog is closing down. My artsy fartsy weblog is leaving! The writer has to cut back expenses and unfortunately he no longer has the time or the cash to continue the site. I spend so much time being THE muse. It's depressing to loose one of mine. It's been nice to a have a cyber teacher.

Speaking of teachers, whilst looking for coupon inspiration. I stumbled upon an elementary school teacher's curriculum for her third grade class somewhere in the Syracuse region. This interested me because essentially the assignment was for the class to "deconstruct the basic design components of a coupon." This would hopefully lead to a better understanding of a graphic designers career choice. Way to go third graders. So in 13 years I gotta watch out for these kids. They'll be trying to take MY JOB.

Here's hoping someone sends me another link to new design guru :)

Quick pop quiz for you:
My 7-11 hoagie was a. dry b. expensive c. containing emu meat or d. all of the above.
The answer is...D!

Have been pondering intense life question after receiving an email of interest.
Would you be willing to leave your everday life for three months to go to a desolate location to help those in need?
AND IF IT MEANT CLOSE TO 50K?

I would hate to be a slave to the man, but damn cash is soo seductive.

Reasons to be happy

I had such a bad weekend, it's going to take me a few days to compose the kinda blog I want to write. So despite growing reasons to be depressed. I thought I'd post my most recent graphic illustration of two of my room-mates.

One of them manages to make me smile on the shittiest of days.

Love babees!

My first advisor in the art department died about 6 months or so ago (maybe longer) but I just got word today.
Even though I only met with him briefly, he was one of those people that could reassure you that life changing decisions you make that first year of college are potentially not as imposing or as threatening as anyone else would have you believe.

Thanks for the words of confidence Mike! You will be missed.

A blog before flying

I'm not even flying...just going on a mini-vacation to NYC to look at some art & shit. And also try to get stand-by tickets to Conan. And also see what all this Century 21 kerfluffle is about. I'll fill you guys in when I get back...

But, for now, since it's not a school night for me, I thought I'd leave you with something to chew on. It occured to me after last night's Laguna Beach...

What is up with white girls & extensions? Has this been going on long? Am I just an ignorant-ass thick-haired girl who's never been faced with an occasion for which I didn't have enough hair? Is Christina Aguilera to blame? Or is it the mainstreaminization of porn? Cause seriously? From the prom pictures leaked all over the web, the "new girl" Casey looks like she's heading off the the AVN awards*.

Also, after tonight's Real World, for no particular reason as I've noticed it for um, like the entire 16 season run of the show, but why can't those kids put their clothes in the fucking hamper? Or even consolidate the articles of clothing strewn about the room into, I dunno, at least a half a dozen or so piles?

I am, by no means, a neat freak. I too have problems containing my dirty laundry to the hamper. But if my shit doesn't make it in the hamper, it makes it to the vicinity of the hamper, especially if anyone other than the people I live with might see it. Like, um, eight million people a week.

I had a roommate in college who was mind-bogglingly (am making up words like a bastard this evening) messy. There was no floor on her side of the room. There was just about a foot and a half layer of clothes, books, food wrappers, dishes, and shoes in the area between her desk & bed. She seriously had to launch herself from the halfway point of the room onto either her bed or desk chair. It got to the point where, when cleaning out my pockets or a random purse I'd just chuck all my pennies over there. I hate pennies like Hench hates wet socks.

*AVN=Adult Video News. It's Like the Oscars for Porn.

Hey Leslie....

I was lookin around on craigslist and found this post that I thought you might be interested in. Here is the link:

http://washingtondc.craigslist.org/vol/90843443.html

And here is the title:

DOCUMENTARY ABOUT SKETCHY COPS

Some show that is going to be on HBO or something. I think you should do it!

Carol Ann rescues the Tivo!

A million years ago I watched a reporter describing how local search and rescue teams were attempting to pull victims from the rubble of an earthquake in some far and away country. Curiously in the background; some of the rescuers were poking at something, which if I am correct appeared to be a butt. Rather than try and extract the questionable body part one of them appeared to poke at it.

I called CA to report my findings and a series of hilarious butt rubble jokes ensued.

At any rate, when I asked CA what she would do during an earthquake, she responded - "Rescue my TiVo".

And that's how this masterpiece came to life.
TADA!

I don't wanna grow up

I'm having a mid-twenties crisis. I've realized that I haven't a clue what I want to do with my life. I seriously have NO leanings in any particular direction. The only thing I've determined is that I don't want to be someone's assistant forever. Yes, I understand one must pay dues to get to the top or whatever, but I haven't the foggiest as to what profession I'd want to get to the top of.

I have a crazy laundry list of skills & interests, but none add up to any clear-cut career choice. I thought I was being slick having generic majors like English & Communications, reasoning that being able to write and talk would prepare me to do anything, but I've found they qualify me to do nothing. Maybe except teaching others to write & talk.

Why can't someone pay me to make crappy slap-dash graphic art? Oh wait....

So the other night my sister was watching CSI: Miami and I realized that the sort-of doughy wise-crackin forensic pathologist was none other than that skinny bowl-cut sportin' wise-crackin sorta bohemian Lukas from Empire Records. I don't know why this made me so sad, but I can't get over it.

I've never been very cool, admittedly, but I was certainly cooler ten years ago than I am now (crush on Eric Nies, aside). I feel like every minute that ticks away from my heady younger days, the closer I am to listening to Top 40 radio & referring to my pants as "slacks". Did Lukas aspire to end up on USA reruns with friggin' David Caruso? I read somewhere that after Empire Records he lived with Renee Zellweger for like 4 years. Now she's got an Oscar, and is married to a midget country music phenom, wearing Carolina Herrera pajamas.

Anybody else? Or am I flappin' in the wind over here?

And another

I'm working on a set of thematic illustrations of people I know.
This one may or may not be someone who told me I was "improving."
:)
What ya think?

Totem for CA

I'm going on strike until CA writes again.
So I guess I will just post graphic illustration endeavors for next few weeks.