The Brooklyn Riviera
Or how to vacation in New York. Fuck travel. Here's how to vacation for the weekend, without ever leaving the sprawling urban metropolis. Had the perfect New York Summer weekend, a full on vacation. I started by not looking or listening to the news. That started Friday night. Instead, I purchased People Magazine with the crazed Mel Gibson on the cover, and US Weekly detailing Katie Holme's prison-like lifestyle with Tom. I'm officially up to date.
Had a hot pizza and movie date with cameraman at Lombardi's in Soho. And then on my insistence, went to see Taladaga Nights. I dreamt of Will Farrell and John Candy the night before, clearly indicating how much I needed to laugh at dumb ass humor. It's been a really shitty week, very occupied and upset with the war, and was in full on distress mode. Tom managed to get me to enjoy the privilege of having a pizza date in the midst of a war. Just enjoy it. Yum, I did.
Then completely lazy, sticky Saturday. Nothing to do, wandering, brunch, sleeping in, browsing Chelsea flea markets, accidentally picking up a silk vintage clingy dress I totally didn't need that cameraman said was stunning. I'm such a sucker.
Lazed around until the sun started setting and then headed downtown for Salsa dancing at the pier! Finally -- got over my nerves, it's been a while since I danced on the NY Salsa scene, which can be intimidating, but had a small spritzer, went downtown to the river. There we were - 8 year old girls with better moves than me, grandmas, cha chas, salseras and my friend Charlie, all together, kicking it and sweating outside for free at sunset on the river. NYC heaven. Beautiful. I'm not as rusty as I thought.
Today, went to Brighton Beach -- the Brooklyn Riviera! Me and Susie are beach combing again. Draped ourselves onto little mats, next to the Latina family playing death metal and the hairy, hairy Russian men. I mean, where was PETA, this man had a fur coat on! Then we retired to the boardwalk drinking vodka and eating cold fish and black bread.
Watching the women navigate the boardwalk in stiletto heels, bouffants, white hot pants, attached to a brooding thug made me wonder if all the girls in Brighton were hookers, or just looked like it in daylight?
Had a hot pizza and movie date with cameraman at Lombardi's in Soho. And then on my insistence, went to see Taladaga Nights. I dreamt of Will Farrell and John Candy the night before, clearly indicating how much I needed to laugh at dumb ass humor. It's been a really shitty week, very occupied and upset with the war, and was in full on distress mode. Tom managed to get me to enjoy the privilege of having a pizza date in the midst of a war. Just enjoy it. Yum, I did.
Then completely lazy, sticky Saturday. Nothing to do, wandering, brunch, sleeping in, browsing Chelsea flea markets, accidentally picking up a silk vintage clingy dress I totally didn't need that cameraman said was stunning. I'm such a sucker.
Lazed around until the sun started setting and then headed downtown for Salsa dancing at the pier! Finally -- got over my nerves, it's been a while since I danced on the NY Salsa scene, which can be intimidating, but had a small spritzer, went downtown to the river. There we were - 8 year old girls with better moves than me, grandmas, cha chas, salseras and my friend Charlie, all together, kicking it and sweating outside for free at sunset on the river. NYC heaven. Beautiful. I'm not as rusty as I thought.
Today, went to Brighton Beach -- the Brooklyn Riviera! Me and Susie are beach combing again. Draped ourselves onto little mats, next to the Latina family playing death metal and the hairy, hairy Russian men. I mean, where was PETA, this man had a fur coat on! Then we retired to the boardwalk drinking vodka and eating cold fish and black bread.
Watching the women navigate the boardwalk in stiletto heels, bouffants, white hot pants, attached to a brooding thug made me wonder if all the girls in Brighton were hookers, or just looked like it in daylight?
posted by No Longer Active at 5:28 PM
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