Archives for posts with tag: Williamsburg Bridge

Lady Rizo

Amelia (Lady Rizo)

Just spilled water all over my lap top which after a few shakes is now working again.  So clumsy today.  All over the place.

Firstly, I have to tell you THIS:  The NYC heat is frying my brain.

Now, I must tell you this:

I have been sitting on/keeping from you an insane and shocking moment the past couple of months.  I just didn’t know how or if I should even mention it.

One of my freaky Hollywood neighbors text me after we had dinner before I left California asking if I had ever ‘been intimate with the little dog?’ it was NOT a joke.

He intimated that he had ‘feelings’ for his kitten.

I really didn’t know what to do.

I urged him to get help.

This is just one of the many reasons I don’t want to go back to LA.  I missed my flight – overslept.  Had to buy another ticket.  It’s all the same.  There must be more insane/lonely/desperate people per square mile in LA than any other city in the USA.

I know that this might sound a bit racist but every time a Korean looks at the little dog I wonder if they are thinking what sauce they would eat him with.  Once, outside the Mud Cafe on 9th a Korean told me with a smug smile that she could not understand our absurd preoccupation with an animal that they grill.

Saw the Kids are Alright yesterday evening with Amelia.  We had a lovely lunch in Williamsburg.  We made plans after her genius performance at Joe’s Pub the previous night.  I had to walk over the boiling hot Williamsburg Bridge as it was unexpectedly closed to traffic.  Walking over the bridge made it all the more exciting adventure.

After our lovely lunch in Williamsburg– omelets and watermelon/mint juice we, Amelia and I hunted the shops for exciting sale items.  I bought socks and underwear at the 70% off Paul Smith Shop.

This is the performance from the night before:

 

Saw Amelia perform Lady Rizo with Jake.  He loved the show.

Afterwards we hung with Amelia and her husband at a small bar on Lafayette.

The following afternoon me and Jake bid our adieu.  I have absolutely no idea if or when we will see each other ever again.  We have not made plans.  We will see each other if it feels right I suppose.

Last night, the streets were boiling hot and humid.  At night the thunder, lightning and torrential rain cool everything down for a few glorious moments.

Anyway, The Kids are Alright: Annette Benning is marvelous in Lisa’s movie.  A totally convincing alcoholic dyke.   The other performances were wonderful too but Benning’s was by far my favorite..and there again was Mia Wasikowska!  Our Whitstable lunch condiment.  I assume she is well on her way to getting an Oscar, possibly next year?

Julianne Moore lacked control in A Single Man, her talent all over the place like a prolapsed labia.   Compare that asinine performance with the very genuine, tight..measured performance in the Kids Are Alright.  I would have preferred Olivia Williams of course but who the hell wouldn’t?

My ONLY gripe with the movie was the wholly unresolved issue of Ruffalo’s character who just vanished in a puff of metrosexual angst, ferociously seen off by Benning’s well observed impression of an alpha male.  Unfairly berating Ruffalo on her doorstep, telling him that he was an ‘interloper’.

He was the sperm donor.  After all they had been through, he should have been included in the family at the end of the movie.  The kids wanted a relationship with him.  It seemed unfair and churlish to jettison his character..although probably quite realistic.  After all, it was they that contacted him.  Moore who seduced him, Benning who suggested the ill-fated dinner at his house etc. etc.

I wish, when I had found my real dad he had been like Mark Ruffalo rather than the lying villain on offer.

Somebody suggested that if it had been a straight couple who had cheated with a surrogate mother..would the mother be part of the family?  Well,  if the kids wanted her..I suppose so.  It posed many interesting and complex questions about what family means.   What it could mean.

I loved everything about this exquisitely crafted movie but one thing above everything else totally blew me away:  all of the characters took turns being the persecutor/rescuer/victim.  Genius.  There was so much at stake for all of them.

Saturday after the movie met Ian at Soho House NYC, which was jammed with gays.  One particularly drunk, gay in swim short was making a total fool of himself.  He should have been chucked out but everyone was a bit scared of the repercussions I think.  Ate pork chops.  Took cab to The Phoenix, a gay bar in East Village.  Drank sickly diet coke.  Met 20-year-old Persian boy.  Nice for the ego.

This morning I saw Mike Z, a friend from LA, at the park whilst walking our dogs.  Now I am waiting on him to come pick me up for lunch.  He may forget.  I am really hungry.  Ravenous.

Ended up eating polish sausage on my own.  Never trust a drinker to do what they agree to do.

Busy week ahead.  No idea what’s in store.  All I know is that once I get home I am going directly to the new road to see it being built.  I can’t wait.

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