1. Last week I went to the LCD Soundsystem show at Terminal 5. The following is a video I took on my iPhone of the last part of their closing set. They played "New York, I Love You," obvs, then the chorus from Jay-Z's "Empire State of Mind," which I found kitschy but also couldn't help loving, before releasing a hundred white balloons from the ceiling. The concert was amazing - my friend Brady and I were in the general admission standing area and we were surrounded by young people obsessed with themselves and obsessed with just being alive. This video is terrible, because I was jumping around and acting like a damn fool, but I feel that it adequately represents the entirety of the concert, which consisted of me jumping around and acting like a damn fool. It was fucking infectious.
After the balloons dropped, Brady and I posed with one of them in front of a dumpster, natch.
2. In other news: I bought one of these.
And I am taking piano lessons. I grew up in an extremely musical household - I can trace my entire childhood based on what albums I was listening to with my parents (read: Queen, The Eagles, Chicago, Marvin Gaye, Luther Vandross, The Doobie Brothers, Journey, Sade, Roberta Flack, Mariah Carey, Celine Dion were all in the repertoire), and I danced my youth away - and once I got bigger I played the flute for seven years. I realized recently that I had lost that outlet, which makes no sense. I miss making music or at least being somehow involved with it. I've always always always wanted to learn how to play the piano, so I'm just diving into it. It requires some budgeting, of course, because this is New York, but it's totally worth it. And the harmonica purchase is an addendum to that. I also intend to learn how to play the guitar this summer. I'm an ambitious lady.
3. Speaking of being a lady, I spent all day Sunday helping my amazing bestie Jenny Anderson with a pin-up photo shoot on the roof of my friend's Brooklyn apartment. I spent the whole day looking around in gape-mouthed awe that I know so many beautiful, strong, talented women. Jenny is a clit tease and has only shown us a couple photos. Here is one of them. The lineup goes something like this: actress, writer, writer, actress, dancer, actress, writer, writer, actress, dancer, and of course, photographer (behind the lens). Kick. Ass. Ladies.
4. Feeling rather ladylike from the shoot, I went the other day to get a mani/pedi, and as I was sitting in the spa waiting to indulge myself, I started reading Willie Morris' memoir North Toward Home. The book chronicles his life, moving from Yazoo City, Mississippi to go to college in Texas before taking on New York City, where he became an accomplished writer and the editor of Harper's Magazine. He grew to be totally disenchanted with the city and ended up moving back to the South - of course, he took root in Oxford, where I went to college - and the book obviously details his relationship with both the South and the North, both his past and his present. Because Zac is moving to New Orleans at the end of the summer, and because I too yearn for the South and ponder daily a return to my roots, it is likely going to be an incredibly important book for me to read.
ANYWAY. As I sat in the window reading, the sun was pouring through the window as it set, framing the words on the glass. I looked down and the shadow it cast was scrawled across my book.
The universe can't really get any more direct than that.
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