Fashion weekend

Of all my weekends so far in New York, aside from the one that C was in town, this one was by far the best. Z and I hung out a lot and lolzed a lot. Dear God I'm already boring myself. I'll just stick to highlights.

Yesterday was VDay, my least/favorite holiday ever. I have to admit that a really cheesy part of me likes it, even though I didn't have an SO to share it with, because I think it's great to have a holiday that celebrates a human emotion few of us truly get to share with another person. But mostly I just think it's capitalist bullshit created to sell cards and pink balloons and chocolates to people completely devoid of creativity. If anyone ever gets me a box of chocolates shaped like a heart for VD, it's over. I can buy that shit my damn self the day after VD for 50% off.

Ernywayz, I had an excellent VD. Lolz. I spent the first part of the day shopping; my mom sent me some discount cards for a couple stores, so I got some new skinny jeans and underwear and stuff. I also bought myself lunch at a random diner on the UES, just because I wanted to. I was starving and I really wanted a Diet Coke and a sandwich and some fries. So I got all those things and sat and ate by myself in a restaurant--on Valentine's Day. It was just coincidence that I ate by myself in public in the city for the first time on VD, and I really didn't mind at all. In fact I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I just ate and people-watched and texted people and it was amazing. I felt like a real New Yorker.

That night Z and I went to Fashion Week because a friend of his who works in PR had an extra invite to the Monarchy Collection show. We went, we saw, we shmehed. I mean, don't get me wrong, it was a totally cool experience and I'm really glad we went because we got all dressed up and it was just neat to be there. But overall, the show only lasted 20 minutes, and we were surrounded by all the people I hate: paparazzi, people with more cents than sense, and general society bitches. It was cool, and I would love to go to the show of a designer I'm actually somewhat familiar with, but overall I was left thinking: all this pomp and circumstance for fucking clothes? I love clothes, and I love being creative and dressing up and stuff, but I also see homeless people every day on my way to the subway. It's all about perspective I guess.

So after that we had an uhmazing dinner at a thai place in Hell's Kitchen, then went for drinks at a bar a couple blocks away. Then today we prepped Z's living room for painting tomorrow, ate Chinese, and went to a housewarming party for the guy who sold me the chair, who also happens to work part-time blogging for The New Yorker. It was aight; I met some fellow journalists, and realized I am but one of a million tiny unemployed fish in a huge festering sea of joblessness. It made me feel better, actually. Sucks because we're all after the same jobs, but nice to know I'm not alone.

Until next time.