NYC And Me

So I've finally settled in Helsinki after several weeks of craziness and living out of a suitcase. An account first of my New York minute...

I first arrived in New York on a Wednesday evening, the 13th of May. A tearful goodbye to mummy and daddy preceded my quick flight, which included an incredible final view of the Toronto skyline- the plane dipped ever so slightly so that my beautiful city's core fit perfectly into the window of my neighbor across the aisle- a truly moving sight. After a sketchy bus ride from LaGuardia to my hotel (read: nunnery) in Chelsea, I set off to explore the city. I've been to New York a number of times, but I naturally find it infinitely interesting, and I strolled the town for a few hours. The next morning I got up and decided to go to the Upper East Side for some shopping and museums.

 I went to the Museum of the City of New York, took photos of some of the fantastic Gilded Age mansions lining Fifth Avenue, and finally decided to head back to my neck of the woods. I had some great sushi at Daioh by my hotel, and then called my kiwi friend K who models in the city. I subwayed over to her place in Williamsburg, met some of 

her friends, and then we headed to a great Aussie resto, Kingswood, where K had some mad hookups and the scallops were to die for. 

Many drinks later, the group of us expats headed to Southside for some debauchery. A chic place in Greenwich, I wasn't surprised to find in our booth some bitty with quadruple digit Vuitton shoes and Stavros Niarchos popping in for a visit. K and I eventually needed some nourishment, so we headed back to Williamsburg, ate some delish pizza, and passed out at her place. I had to check out of my nunnery the next morning at 11, so the early wake up and blinding sun were not welcomed by extreme hangover. I basically felt like dying the entire day, but I managed to get some good shopping done at Barney's and in SoHo before taking off for the airport- I passed out for the entire subway ride over, missed my stop, and basically traveled to like, Long Island. Anyway, I managed to get to the airport with about 20 minutes to spare, hopped on the plane, and caught my last few glimpses of North America. London, baby!

Heard: On Campus

- Two little fuckers deep in conversation...

"You know what I don't like about linear algebra?..."

Thank god school is almost ceasing and desisting.

Yum-Yums

Cynthia Nixon and her "girl"friend.

Delish.

Happy Barfday

I turned twenty one a few days ago...I'm officially an old bastard. 

I generally don't like to be the centre of attention, and I don't like people fussing and fawning over me, etc. It seems however, that no matter my protestations, people are more than happy to do some crazy things for me...

The evening started with dinner at c5 with that crazy cat, P. Located- as the name suggests- on the 5th floor of the Royal Ontario Museum's Libeskind-designed crystal, the architecture and interior design created an atmosphere worthy of the delectable food we consumed (not to mention the copious vodka/gin and sodas...). From c5 we headed across the street to the Roof Lounge at the Park Hyatt, where we met some more eccentrics and drank some more liqour. The lot of us then headed to my house on Borden, where M had assembled  a great deal of my wonderful friends. Some craziness and delicious pastries from Chabichou later, we all headed over to The Drake where- yep, you guessed it- we drank, drank, and drank some more. Booths and bottles and shit! Oh, and even my brother- the mysterious and scholarly G- made an appearance.

Although not as messy as my birthday last year (thank heavens!), I'm still not entirely sure how the night ended, but rest assured that it was awesome, and I appreciate everyone coming out and celebrating the birth of their absolute fave!

Pin Me Baby

In keeping with the general theme of my life, my Blackberry recently died for all of eternity. The cause of death? Water damage. Ummm from the time I dropped it in the sink in SEPTEMBER. HUH? It was the most ludicrous thing I had ever heard, I was a huge bitch to the Bell lady. But as it turns out, It's quite a possibility- though your phone may be in fine working condition post-stupidity, the water never retreats, and eats away slowly at poor, poor BB until it finally succumbs to the corrosion. Moral of the story- don't drop your BlackBerry into a sink at a Wendy's bathroom while you're waiting with your friend for her fuck-buddy...

However, throughout this short span without a phone (and by "phone" I mean BlackBerry, the meaning of all life), I have come to realize a number of things. I recall the time, not so long ago, when my technologically retarded parents canceled my data plan and I was unable to pin- "pinning" being that oh-so-convenient method of interaction all the rage amongst the cool kids. I was reminded of how far people may or may not go to stay in touch. When that -oh-so-convenient method of interaction is snatched away, so does all interaction entirely, with some people at least. These past few days without pinning has once again made me well aware that some people will go the extra mile, whilst others will not. Meh.

Pinning is basically a life-ruiner. I've seen multiple relationship flare-ups, misunderstandings, and general bad things happen as a result of this technological development. The fact that I now expect my parentals to buy me a new BlackBerry along with an expensive birthday gift (I reeeeeally wanted that Birks watch) for the sole purpose of the convenience of the PIN factor, is an attestation to the overall harm a BB can inflict.

Anyway, my final dilemma...to ask for a new BlackBerry, or...a Vertu?!

All I Want Is All I Need (Part 6)

I am a walker. Honestly, I love walking- rain or shine, hot or cold, day or night, absolutely smashed or sober as a bird- I derive so much pleasure from walking. Listening to and observing the sights and sounds of the city, absorbing- things I think most of us take for granted. And the whole notion of the taxi- forget about it. I'll pass on paying to get chubs, thank you very much.

There is, however, one machine that, if I were to suddenly to come into possession of it (my upcoming birthday, perhaps), might alter my perception of walking...

I have wanted a Vespa for ages. And I figure with my lack of skills behind the wheel of an automobile (I'm a fun driver, if not safe), perhaps a Vespa would be a good jumping off point? There is just something so wonderfully cosmopolitan, so very European about driving a Vespa. Two summers ago, while shopping in Paris, I was lucky enough to witness some young French aristocrat, in a shawl-collar cardigan over a v-neck tee, motor his navy blue Vespa to the entrance of Le Bon Marche and nonchalantly stroll into the department store to do some serious damage, no doubt. Ah, yes...how I envision myself motoring down Bloor to Holt's, creepers similarly gawking at my vision of nobility as I nonchalantly stroll inside to find more objects to add to All I Want Is All I Need... 

Up until last night, in all of my nearly 21 years, I had never attended a concert. I've had the pleasure of witnessing many DJs "spin", and some indie bands do their thing at small Toronto bars, but I had never attended one of those massive, pyrotechnic undertakings filled with the thousands of screaming fans of the headliners, who help define the music of a generation. Like I said, I hadn't been...until last night.

My great International Gypsy friend N surprised me a few days ago by inviting me to The Killers concert at The ACC. A friendship with one of the band members had developed through some of her New York exploits, and she was offered a few tickets for the show. Along for the ride were M and M, and after a few pre-drinks in the underground at Union Station and the lobby of the ACC (aka light vodka Rockstars- and was that N with a mickey of Finlandia?- ever-so-discretely sipped behind LCBO paper bags aka homeless styles), we settled into our seats- 4th row right-stage (did I get that right?). We ordered some drinks, danced the night away (WHY would you come to The Killers concert and sit in your seats the whole time? Really, some people boggle my mind), and belted out our fave tunes. The concert ended with my personal favorite, When You Were Young.

The night wasn't over yet though! N had also procured some backstage passes, and we hung out with the band backstage. Expecting a hardcore after-party, I was instead somewhat pleasantly surprised to find that the band members were...ummm...average? Hardly the "rockstars" I'd figured they would be. After some stiff drinks, exploration (the food table's "special order" was a box of Coffee Crisps which, according to one band member, do not exist in the U.S.), and generally hanging out backstage for a while, M and I left for a little drunken action at Andy Poolhall.  When we were young...