left brain

Madly in Love

As I recently said last week, I was in Miami.  When I was leaving my hotel one day with Joe and Nikolas, this guy came walking down the stairs leaving the hotel as well.  I got yelled at by Joe for staring so obviously but I didn't care because the guy that I was staring at was OMG hot.  And I was amazed by his tattoos.  Well, we ended up running into him by the pool since that was where he (and we) were headed.  While my friends and I were drooling and coming up with any reason to talk to him, we had easily decided that this guy was the hottest person we have ever seen in person.  And we live in NYC, hot people are abound on the streets and bars.  It turns out that I have spent countless hours this last week trying to remember where I have seen the Love tattoo on his back before.  He is a model, clearly ... for DG too.  Josh Wald. He also has a series of shots of him holding a skateboard naked.

It turned out that he left that day and we never saw him again, sadly.

Cracked

After spray tanning which made me look like an Orange freak, I took the L to Brooklyn for the first time, grabbed Thai food on a thirteen minute walk near the Williamsburg Bridge, and slept in a building full of Hasidic Jews on one of those new fabulous mattresses that molds to your body. 

Upon arriving in Miami, the incredible humidity and warmth of 85 degrees hits the fragile winter in New York skin.  We checked into the Catalina (hip, young, fun with a bit of sex) where we met up with our friend Nikolas from Montreal and then quickly proceeded to the Surfcomber to get the passes for the party and to let one of us check in.  "Between the gays and the grays!"  We had already decided it was going to be a low key night since the rest of our weekend was pretty much planned to be a wild mess.  After some Sushi Samba and caiprinha's, we headed to Score where Ralphi Rosario was spinning and I met up with Victor and his boyfriend.  The night turned out to be uneventful and sorta tired.  I did get to meet Abel though.  Actually by the end of the weekend I met every circuit DJ pretty much (TonyMoran, MannyLehman, Abel, Ralphi, all except for Brett Hendrichson but who cares about him).  After Score and the ability to know every song before it actually started, I decided that I go out too much and that I need to take a break.  Not the way to start my first circuit party weekend.

After a smoothie in the pool with the most amazingly beautiful model with the hottest tats and body I have ever seen, until a day later, we headed to the Pool Party.  Main party 1.  Men in square cuts and surfer shorts galore dancing under the bright tropical sun sipping rum drinks and taking a few too many trips to the bathroom makes a party rocking.  Throw in the idea that they can swim in a pool and well, it felt like Brazil.  The music was fun and pool party-ish but again unmemorable.   After stumbling back to my hotel across the street, a shower, nap, and quick change before heading to the most amazing club I have ever been to.  Twilo Miami is absolutely stunning.  The lights, the sound, the atmosphere, the space are all incredible.  I am jealous.  Nothing in NYC can't compare.  Throw in Joe G spinning and the night was AMAZING.  My favorite and I say that without bias.  (honestly!)  The space was OMG hot and sweaty and jam packed and circuity and light years beyond the fun to be had at Alegria.  Video of the light wall (one of Twilo's hotttt features) here:

After 10 hours of near nonstop dancing, I had to head home because the beach party, Main Party 2, (though not as special as Twilo on Saturday) was fast approaching.  Needless to say we got there late given our lack of sleep but I quickly threw myself onto the dance floor again and danced for another three and a half hours near sober.  I say near, not actually.  Brett sucked supposedly, everyone was bitching, ( I got there late to miss him, he is more Missed the Beat than MasterBeat) and Tony Moran just wasn't spinning great once he took over the reigns.  It was choppy and weird.  And Brokeback?  Come on!  Even though I think video or photos of parties hardly give you an idea of what it was like, here is one I found on the BeachParty with Tony spinning the Brokeback theme (can we say OLD!?!) : 

After a quick bite to eat, a nap, and another outfit change, Joe, Nikolas and I (along with some friends of Joe) headed to Crobar Miami which recently underwent a renovation for the early night party by Manny Lehman.  Crobar looked super hot.  Hotter than NYC again.  Can I say Jealous one more time?  Though Manny wasn't rockstar like he has been.  Unspeakable Joy?  Come on !  At midnight, it was already maxed out packed and the boys were HOT.  And on came the drug binge.  It was incredible how everyone was on something.  They were actually giving away alcohol yet charging you for water !!!   I never had any urge to throw myself into the dance floor at this point.  It looked like a sauna and I was heavily rolling.  So we stood behind Manny and acted like dancers.  haha.  I thought about lieing here about the whole drug thing (which I rarely have done on this site) but I decided who cares and since this is the first time I have blogged in awhile.. lets stay brutally Frank.  It is a circuit party and for anyone who has ever been to one, you already know, they make a pharmacy look like a waste of time.  I was amazed.  I actually thought I did more drugs than I should until I went to this thing all weekend.  I am totally an amateur and in kindergarden.  This party was like being on the varsity team.  5am rolled around (haha) quickly and Nikolas and I decided we needed more so we got in a happy lil cab and trekked into Miami again to go to Twilo one last time and this time for Abel.  It turned out to be my second favorite party since he was "amazing!"  It was serious after hours dark music (and seriously druggy) but the boys were hot, the boy I met at Manny named Seth was lickable, and well.. the vials were rolling around the swamp-like bathroom floor.  I actually kicked 2 by accident when I went in to urinate.  I took the shuttle back home around 10am and slept for an hour.  In total for the weekend I think I slept about 10 hours, maybe 12 max.  I met some great boys in SanFran, a few in LA, and a ton of other fun, great people.  The whole weekend was a blast. 

My return flight to LaGaurdia was a gross, depressing, mess.  We looked and felt like shit and the plane never seemed to be able to land.  Though we did get that amazing view of NYC at night.  Throw in the woman talking non stop next to us and the return to reality was incredibly harsh.

City of Men

A Farm and Walden Pond

Walden Pond:

Alegria Video

I was here.  It is just so weird to see it on someone's cam but I really do think it is fabulously hot. 

It is by far the best (if not the second best) party I have ever been to in the United States.  Manny Lehman at NewYears is a close runner up. Crobar is massive, designed, hip, and super cool, unlike most normal gay clubs that still have that grimy seedy feeling having spent no time whatsoever thinking about where they should place a wall.  There is one gigantic room where the main dance was, though it was so incredibly packed you could barely move into the dancefloor, a stairway that became a runway that led to the upper dance room, balconies overlooking the main dancefloor, private set off rooms, lounges, and a funky set off bar.  Throw in 6,000 of some of the hottest boys I have seen, like I for sure witnessed the best body I have ever seen in person in my life, spin it with Rosabel and Tony Moran and well, it was awesome.  I stayed until seven thirty, though the party which started at eleven pm didn't end until three that following afternoon.  My rockstar friend Marty and I danced most of the night and had an awesome Brazil like time together, or at least until I could't get off of the couch to.  It was an incredible time.  Once you hear Cafe Con Alegria at Alegria .. it changes your mind and your life.

The party was amazing.  So amazing I am going again to Alegria and dragging my friends with me, since well ... I am a New Yorker NOW.  Oh, this is a painting I fell in love with by some contemp artist whose name I can't remember, haha.. Sorry.

Check out the video.

Florida

This trip signified that the end is very much in motion.  And by that I mean I have been looking forward to my little jaunt to Miami for the Fourth of July for the last two months but I also have been dreading it slightly. Since it meant that my best friend Matty left Boston for a much better future somewhere else (SanFran, though I hope he realizes its coldest month is August) and the Florida trip was a pit stop on the way there.  I have also been dreading it since when I return (which I now have) I need to full blow throw myself into moving to NYC and I have 26 days to find an apt, pack, and move.  All beginning NOW. 

The trip though was a fantastic time, as expected.  The weather was perfect (not incredibly hot like we were thinking), the boys were sizzling, the alcohol flowed, the dancing/beach/bathhouse were brilliant and I left feeling not as incredibly bummed/sad/emotional as I thought I was going to be.  It all began in Ft. Myers which seemed to be nearly devastated still from a hurricane nearly two years ago now.  There is still a FEMA housing complex (trailers) and parts of the city are just devastated lots.  Sorta weird, but we ended up hanging out and having a good time seeing Matt's hometown (not devastated Ft. Myers), playing mini-golf (which is where I took this pic - NO, I would never stay in a motel unless it was just to have sex lol), walking on the beach and some everglades like hiking path late at night where I seriously thought a panther was going to eat us alive.  The following day we drove for three hours across the incredibly FLAT state of Florida to the other better side to hit South Beach and Miami which I think is the only part of the state I could stand for more than 24 hours.  This pic to the right was taken in the cross-state turnpike nicknamed "Alligator Alley" which is incredibly boring and incredibly long and uninhabited.  And then you pull onto some other scary road and then you entire the Miami area.  The one noticeable thing, which I tried to take a pic of, is how many large buildings they are erecting.  It nearly seemed like photo's of Shanghai at times.  Rarely ever does one feel in the United States that we are building at a rate to save our future.  Check in, showering, a margarita by the pool, and we were ready to hit Lincoln road.  After eating at SushiSamba for dinner where we got rocked off three caipirinha's each and drooled over straight boys, we headed to Score for some July 4th weekend party with DJ Rosario who is Rosabel from Alegria.  It was mad packed and mad hot and mad slutty, haha.  I kinda fucked it up with a boy who looked exactly like Jake Gyllenthal from Brokeback Mountain when I made out with another boy but oh well, it was only my first night out.  Tisk.  The music was fantastic though.  And all we had was a redBull and the drinks from SushiSamba.

We headed to the beach all day Saturday where I felt like a little boy twig.  Everyone on the beach was massively beefy which was sorta hot but the majority of them looked like they sat in the sun too long.  oh well, they were still somewhat hot, haha.  After the beach, it was time to get in our car and head up north to Ft. Lauderdale.  After dinner in the Aventura mall (haha, this is what happens in the suburbs, you eat at the Cheesecake Factory) we headed to George's Alibi where I really thought I was in bar where gay men go to die.  I am sorry to anyone who heads there often but OMG ... it was scary sad and to think we drove around looking for parking (this is what people do in the burbs) for like 20 minutes.  Manny Lehman's cross country Babylon tour was in town for the night and he was pretty good, though I think he is getting tired.  Mariah Carey should no longer be played.  Cafe con Alegria should be played non-stop.  Anyways, we noticed when we were in Coliseum (the main club in Lauderdale) that college students (young boys) don't go out anymore, people are obsessed with their phones all the time now, and people smoke cig's in Florida like fiends.  Chimneys in the dead of winter in Iceland actually.  I really think the smokers in Florida give the French a serious run for their money.  It was just gross, and I really haven't really noticed how better it is not to have smoking anywhere in a civilized city.

Back in Miami on the night before the 4th, after a night of sleeping in and recovery, laying on the beach for two days, shopping, and seeing Devil Wears Prada, we headed to Amika which is some funky loungy club that was throwing a gay night.  The gay night turned out to be an OMG afterhours with tons of people doing drugs, tons of dancing, and tons of hot boys SINCE they (get this) SCREENED at the door.  By screened I mean, they chose on whether or not you were good enough to get in.  lol, seriously.  We stayed until nearly six a.m. with no substance help again.  I say this because I was so proud of myself, haha.   And we only left because the smoke was like burning my eyes and giving me a mega headache and they changed DJ's and the latter became a little too gay.  I did meet this boy though, who I called my future ex boyfriend a few months back.

Fourth of July was another day at the beach though getting up at 2pm sorta screwed that up.  At night we headed to a super cute Mexican place for dinner which was delicious before we sat on the beach to watch the fireworks.  The Fourth of July in Miami Beach was a totally different feeling than experiencing the 4th in the Northeast which is where I always have.  I have always been in Boston, Ptown, Rhode Island, or D.C for Independence Day which are all steeped in Revolutionary 1776 traditions with the 1812 blaring, bunting, an overdose of red white and blue, et all but being in Miami Beach was an entirely different experience all together.   It was incredibly Brazilian really.   First, you can buy fireworks in CVS and grocery stores, which sounds cool until you realize that the NEast doesn't let you shoot off a firework because you might stupidly lose your hand.  I don't think I saw "red white and blue" once that entire day.  It was much more about your family and the community than about the spectacle of the whole thing.  Families came to the beach in droves to shoot off their own little firework, eat hamburgers, and drink (some heavily).  You could look up and down the beach and see home shot fireworks everywhere with the bigger displays in Aventura, Lauderdale, South Beach, and Miami going off around you (at one time basically).  It was totally wild though I really did miss the 1812.  Once the main sets went off, families kept shooting off theirs and you could just walk up and down the beach enjoying them, walking around teenagers making out in the hidden darkness while the ocean pot scented air blew down the beach. 

Ironically afterwards, we went to Latin night at Score, and as expected, Florida got to me after 4-5 days.  Everyone being a smoking bartender who is unable to hold a conversation for more than 20 minutes is only so much fun.

Miami and Lauderdale

As of today, I am on a beach in Southern Florida.  Or at happy hour.  Or dancing.  Or at a bathhouse.  Or shopping.  Or some combination of any or all of the above.  lol.  Happy Fourth of July to you all and I will be back next week :)  Some future dated posts are promised and maybe an update halfway through the trip.

And a pic that I pulled out of reserves from my last 4th of July, my favorite holiday of all time (other than my birthday which should be a holiday).  Ha, last year I had a "bf" and this year I am in SoBe and Lauderdale .. single .. with my best friend who just became single.  Add on 8 months at the gym (since the pic) and well, some confidence and Ha, I can smell the lube now.  lol.

NYC Pride weekend

The bus ride was not fun.  And that was before the fried chicken pit stop.  Like, WHO eats fried chicken?  Gross!  But Brian and I had a SATCity marathon (we made it through two discs, haha) before I ultimately decided that I don't buses.  Yes, I know that sounds obnoxious but it is true.  lol.  So then we went from the bus to Port Authority to the W hotel, via cab with the windows open so I could air myself out of the fried chicken smell.  We checked in, we took pics of Union Square since our room had an awesome view, we freshened up and hit the town, sorta.  First we had to eat, so we headed over a block to Casa Mono in Gramercy Park area where we had some funky euro tapas (they were original and creative, but not labeled to Spanish or Italian) at another creation by Mario Batali and co's  lil corner restaurant.  A super delicious lunch.  My stuffed peppers were out of this world and the most memorable item from the gluttonous little lunch.  A glass of wine and a walk through Chelsea, Meatpacking, W.Village, and Soho.  I bought some sunglasses (thinking I was going to wear them at some point that weekend, but it was never really sunny) and a hot Energie light blue belt.  Pics soon, maybe.  We had a 15 minute disco nap before getting a little dressed up to head over to WD-50 in the LESide to meet up with two friends of BRads Daniel and someone else, lol.  I learned that BRad has a SUPER bathroom fetish/obsession and one that goes into way too many details than I ever needed to know.  But the dinner was delicious, as expected, since the chef is as creative as Ferrann Adria and my piece of turbot was like dessert with its coffee-saffron sauce.  Check out the menu here.  Afterwards, we headed back to change into something more appropriate for a quiet night on the town.  lol, which led us to Splash after some funky lounge called Secret where we met up with our friends Michael and Mike.  We weren't at Splash or Secret long mainly because they were exhausted from driving, we were exhausted from seeing some whorish Boston cunt as soon as we walked in, and we had a whole weekend of craziness about to be upon us.

Saturday was our day of relaxing, pampering, and more shopping.  Schillers Liquor Bar was where we had brunch.  It was DELICIOUS and the place was super cool looking, sorta like a Russian bath house meets French brasserie.  White subway tiles, liquor bottles with numbers on them, fogged glasses, random chairs (none of which seemed the same), funky artistic grunge, etc.  I want my apt to look like a retro Russian bathhouse, haha.  I had the Eggs Hussard which is basically like a heart attack waiting to happen with its hollandaise and bordelaise sauce layered on top.  I definitely want to check it out for dinner though it seems it is nearly impossible to get to since the prices for what you get food wise are super good.  We met up with Michael and Mike at Schillers Liquor bar in the LES again and afterwards we wandered around lower Manhattan in the pouring rain with the other tourists, lol.  I checked that neighborhood off my list of places to look into moving into.   As we wandered around the W. Village on our way to gastropub Spotted Pig for lunch, we came upon a group of people sitting outside watching the WorldCup under umbrella's, lol.  I thought it was a hysterical scene and one that instantly reminded me of Brasil where they do this daily, over soaps and everything else that appears on TV.  After lunch, we headed to get a pedicure at Nickel since I was still believing I was going to see the sun for the Pride parade.  Turns out it never happened but hey, I am in Miami tomorrow, and I now have buffed perfect toe nails, lol.  A two hour nap followed before meeting back up with Mike and Michael to eat in the lounge at Buddakan.  The food is okay (nothing to write home about), the service is attrocious (it makes the service at its sister restaurant Morimoto look stellar) and my only raving point is basically of the space which is phenomenol.  I don't know but I am not won over by the whole "NYC is being won over by Stephen Starr" idea.  I think he, the developer, has a long way to go.  The space for sure looks like an aircraft hanger and is beautifully designed and perfectly glowing but it is a scene, and I think one that will not last if the service and food is typical of what we experienced.  After Buddakan, I hung around with them some more at XL where Anton, pictured, bartends and then I met up with my friend Joe who helped us cut the entire line at the Roxy, which was mobbed because of Pride.  I felt special, haha.. We had an awesome time hanging out but it was again an early night, mainly because the music was shitty and I couldn't get anywhere near a bar because of the amount of people packed into the instant inferno.

The next morning we chilled in the hotel room watching Romy and Michelles High School Reunion in our super soft dream bed wearing our super soft robes, haha.  It was dreamy.  BRad and I had coffee on our walk to the parade route.  We were at the parade WAY to early and it seemed to go on forever.  We hung out alone watching it, then met up with some friends, then met up with some Boston boy he knows, and well, yah.. five hours later I was ready to kill someone, including myself if I had to see more.  So I dragged a few of us to SushiSamba which turned out to be a bad idea since we had to walk to Albany to get back down past Christopher Street (which is where the parade was running west and fucking everything up).  I have already posted photo's of the parade and some video, so check out my last post for those.  I had a great time seeing it once, for like two hours, but I really should have listened to someone I super let down over choosing the parade rather than him.  A nap after my two caiprinha's and I was ready to hit the town, one last time.  And we went out with OMG style.  The main reason why I was in NYC was not really Pride, though I guess it was, but it was absolutely the Alegria party that took place at Crobar on Sunday night.  I always believed you would go to one of these and you would have had enough.  It turns out that that is just like wetting your appetite and I already want to go to the Labor Day one, to celebrate living in Manhattan, which I will be at that point.

The party on Sunday was the closest thing I have come to the wild awesomeness of carnival Brazil, which isn't that surprising since the organizer is from Brazil (and I met him at a pool party in Rio).  It is by far the best (if not the second best) party I have ever been to in the United States.  Manny Lehman at NewYears is a close runner up.  Crobar is massive, designed, hip, and super cool, unlike most normal gay clubs that still have that grimy seedy feeling having spent no time whatsoever thinking about where they should place a wall.  There is one gigantic room where the main dance was, though it was so incredibly packed you could barely move into the dancefloor, a stairway that became a runway that led to the upper dance room, balconies overlooking the main dancefloor, private set off rooms, lounges, and a funky set off bar.  Throw in 6,000 of some of the hottest boys I have seen, like I for sure witnessed the best body I have ever seen in person in my life, spin it with Rosabel and Tony Moran and well, it was awesome.  I stayed until seven thirty, though the party which started at eleven pm didn't end until three that following afternoon.  My rockstar friend Marty and I danced most of the night and had an awesome Brazil like time together, or at least until I could't get off of the couch to.  It was an incredible time.  Once you hear Cafe Con Alegria at Alegria .. it changes your mind and your life.

And then a never ending train ride home.  One of my few left in the journey to Boston.

NYC Pride, the parade

The NYC Pride parade has to be seen, once.  And then never again.  It goes on for hours upon hours upon hours, like I left after 4.5 having only seen 70% of it.   Hillary was the best part, honestly.   Everyone went WILD over her, and not the hot boys she had in tow wearing tank tops and sleeveless shirts, lol.  Second pic are her boys, haha.  The rest of the blog entry will have to wait until I recover, sorry boys.  I also head to Miami in two days so I have tons to do.

Birthday Festivites

This past weekend I was in NYC again.  Ha, I know ... I am there all the time basically but I mainly went to celebrate my birthday with Tom, and Jerry, in the only city worth doing so.  After driving down (which possibly might be my last time driving to NYC) we headed to see Favela Rising in a funky theater on the East Village.  Only in NYC would the director of the Tribeca Film Festival award winning movie be there to discuss the film with you afterwards.  The movie was incredible.  Though it changes my mind on Brazil.  With its statistics flying around as they do, I now feel like I understand why Brazilians flock here in the masses they do.  Review shortly.  Afterwards we wandered arond the E.Village, the Cock, and the Lower East Side looking at the neighborhood before eating dinner at Suba, which was very good.  I was thinking it was going to be more in the lines of tapas but it turned out to have excellent classic mojitos and a great piece of jazzed up pork shoulder.  The place was hip and fun, yet slightly quiet. 

I woke up Saturday morning to meet Tom in Hell's Kitchen and after getting a SBux, we were off to Williamsburg.  WBurg is a neighborhood in Brooklyn that was supposed to be funky, trendy, artsy, hip, and cheaper.  I didn't fall in love.  In fact, I kinda thought Wburg felt like some of the near burbs of Boston.  So, after writing it off the list for places I might be renting in but deciding that I need to beg to get into one of its art galleries, we had lunch.  Strawberry Banana pancakes.  Mmm..  We headed back into Manhattan, which is when I kissed the ground, and did a little shopping in Bloomies, Tiffany's ( i sorta wanted a Gehry bracelet that he is doing for them), Levi, Diesel and the new Apple.  The new Apple store on Fifth was having some bad design issues since their oh so hot stairs turned lethal when wet.  Since it was pouring on Saturday, people had to have their umbrella's dried at the door before stepping onto the stairs down into the store, and the stairs were still a wet lawsuit waiting to happen.  Small nap and then we were all off to see the movie Russian Dolls in the W.Village IFC theater (which rocks).  I had to ask directions from some fireman since we couldn't find the place, sadly.  As I entered the firehouse and headed towards the group or swarthy men, the one who answered my directional question was a total Italian ripped up stud.  OMG, he was hot, lol.  Anyways, the movie was fantastic, check out the trailer.  It was so purely French.  It was romantic and full of love yet went entirely no where.  As I said, purely French, lol.  Hysterically I took Tom to see this movie, having no idea, that it was about a thirty something year old lost in life and finally realizing that you will never find a perfect princess (or prince in his case, lol).  I laughed out loud.  It is absolutely great and not just because of the hot French boys accent when he speaks English, or him running naked down some main street in Paris, lol.

Afterwards we headed to the Meatpacking area ( i so want to live here) to dine at Morimoto.  I thought it was great.  It was incredibly clever and extremely centered around fish, unlike most Japanese restaurants now overtaking NYC like Godzilla.  The service, however, was attrocious.  They actually dropped a piece of my sushi onto the floor and I had to wait nearly 15 minutes to get another.  We each had the near death tasting menu with a bottle of sake that tasted like tangerine juice.  I loved that half way through the tasting menu which is mostly a blur at this point, they gave a cup of green tea and a macaroon.  It was basically to mind fuck you into thinking it was over and that this is dessert.  Right after, lobster with 12 spices showed up, lol.  We unfortunately missed the nitrogen frozen persmmon but I guess you can't have everything.  New York Magazine raved and says: 

Masaharu Morimoto, whose eponymous establishment opened six weeks ago on the fringes of the meatpacking district, brings a formidable array of weapons to this titanic struggle. A stocky gentleman from Hiroshima, he is one of the reigning Iron Chefs from the original cult-hit Japanese television show and was the original executive chef at Nobu when it opened in New York. For this, his personal New York debut (he already has restaurants in such disparate locations as Philadelphia and Mumbai), he and his co-owners have contracted the cutting-edge Japanese architect Tadao Ando, who has sprinkled the room with all sorts of esoteric touches. The curved, low-slung entrance is hung with a giant red curtain, making it look like the maw of a whale. There’s a hectic, perpetually crowded lounge area downstairs, and the walls and ceilings of the main dining room upstairs are covered with sheets of rippled white plaster, which give the room a strangely soothing effect. In the back of the room is a sushi bar made of Douglas fir, and behind it is Morimoto himself, dressed in his flowing robes, uttering commands to his minions like an admiral on the deck of his ship. Morimoto is an Iron Chef for good reason. He trained originally as a sushi chef and is a master of the sophisticated Japanese dining genre called kaiseki. These varied talents are all on display at Morimoto, which seems to have been conceived as several restaurants in one. There is the obligatory subterranean lounge area mobbed with meatpacking-district regulars swilling sugary, aggressively priced cocktails. There is the varied sushi menu (the fish is flown in four times weekly from the Tsukiji market in Tokyo), which even my most effete sushi-snob friends conceded was irreproachable. There is the main menu, which is filled with clunky but often enjoyable riffs on simple Asian dishes (Korean bibimbap made with yellowtail tuna, pork gyoza dunked in crème fraîche). And there is the chef’s special omakase menu, which features Japanese fusion cooking of the highest kind, designed to be enjoyed while sitting in zaisu chairs with your shoes off, at the elite “omakase bar.”

Sunday morning we all ate ate Pastis in Meatpacking before heading for a nice walk around the W.Village, the piers, and then up through Chelsea to look for my Pride outfits.  I had no luck. When I got back to shitty Boston ( i swear you could see a dark swirling vortex over it ) I was taken to Marco in the North End (the uber Italiano section of Boston) for dinner by Brian to end my week of birthday festivities.  He also gave me a book on how to truly understand how to be a foodie titled Simple French Food.  Super cool.  After sitting in the Italian cafe downstairs where we waited for our table  drinking fire red "Ferrari" martinis, watching everyone go GaGa over the World Cup, and nearly feeling the need to smoke myself, we got to sit down... upstairs.  We had a bunch of delicious things and some great Italian red wine to wash it all down.  Marco is adorable and quaint.  It has also gotten noticed by Gourmet as one of the better dining spots in Boston.  It is upstairs in the brownstone and feels like an old Italian grandmothers kitchen.  Once the plates start coming out, family style, you really feel like your in a grandmothers kitchen.  The meats were amazing as was the Tagliatelle Bolagnese.  The eggplant lasagna tasted like my mothers though.  Which is great because she is a great cook but if you are getting attention in Food and Wine and Gourmet, you might want to turn up the ante a bit.  The logo to the left is the restaurants but it has given me my next idea for my tattoo.  I want the city-state flag from the Italian town/city that my grandparents grew up in, tattooed somewhere.  After the great dinner, I stumbled home with the hiccups (to the point I nearly got sick from them and the wine, lol), pissed in an alley, and then passed out on my bed with everything in my apt on (tv, computer, lights, lol.. it was a mess).

And then Monday morning I jumped off the cliff into my new world.  I am officially moving to NYC.  I have hired movers, quit my job, told my best friends, have started to look at apartments, etc et all.  I am nearly now.. floating off the cliff.