Mid-week

Had Deborah round for dinner last night, made her a beef stew based on the Paleo diet. was pretty good but since the Paleo diet is strictly no salt the only thing I could think of to say about it was 'needs salt'. I was thinking about making a blog of my Paleo experience and putting recipes and stuff on it but it seems everyone who does similar puts pictures of whatever they've cooked and I don't own a camera. So no dice. Giving up salt hasn't been as hard as I thought. I really was expecting everything to taste of nothing, not only because I used to eat SO much salt but also because I'm a smoker. Turns out salt tastes like salt. Miss it a little bit but have a bad feeling I'm going to be making faces when eating other peoples food in the future because its 'too salty'.

Soho Gym

Besides the inevitable cycling into work not alot was achieved yesterday apart from joining and attending the gym! It finally happened. As I hadn't eaten that much, hadn't been to the gym for literally YEARS and had cycled 18 miles in the preceeding 24hrs after a 17 day hiatus I couldn't do that much but at least it was a start. Was so tired, had to get off my bike and walk a portion of the way home ... there was nothing left to give in my muscles. Despondently ate some leftovers, watched TV, had a bath and went to bed.

God bless Soho Gym by the way. Gym of choice for the buffest men in London and by God does it make me happy to see them. It was a Tuesday afternoon and I would say I saw at least 15 guys whose bodies wouldn't have looked out of place on the cover of Men's Health. Already looking forward to going back.

Joyous return to work

Monday I cycled into work, did work, contemplated suicide and then went home. Embarked on the Paleo diet, think that might be worthy of a separate blog, if not only for my benefit. Rubbed a solution of vinegar and salt into some t-shirts to get deodarent marks out (something I've been saying I'm going to do for about 6 months) caught up with peeps on the phone and then popped over to ASDA to get some fruit, nuts and a bottle of water. Not a bad day really.

EVIL Delta, never again

Alarm went off at 5:30 I woke up feeling distinctly worse for wear. Didn't stop feeling incredibly unwell until about an hour into my flight and that was about 5 hours away. Got a car to the airport that had no air conditioner, but certainly had a functioning stereo out of which blasted gospel music all the way to the airport. Got to the airport and queued in a room no bigger than a primary school gym for 1hr 45mins to get through check-in and security. All the while being screamed at by officious Delta emplyoees "stand back against the waaall please" "Ma'am if you undo your bag there we're going to have to escort you outside". UGH! That lovely American way of saying "SIR!" with so much emphasis that they're basically saying 'Oi! TWAT!' with a mask of civility. Got to the airport incredibly early, which turned out to be a good thing cause if I'd shown up when Delta suggested I'd have missed my flight. Small suggestion for you Delta - have more than one metal detector for your entire international terminal. I'm just saying.

Eventually made it on to the plane which was pretty full and very delayed in taking off. Plane food was pretty good - chicken and grits - and the movies were as rampantly bad as ever. First was 21, gambling movie with Kevin Spacey acting like a pantomime dame and then Fool's Gold. I was excited that FG was the movie as I wanted to see it although I knew it would be shit and the plane is the perfect place for that sort of movie experience. Why did I want to see it? Cause of Matthew of course, might be his best movie so far. He was clothed for literally 20% of the movie. Amazing. Plus he's a homo apparently .... Foxley knows some guy who slept with him. There's a life goal. Wasn't too bad a flight really, think I was too tired to worry about dying.

As the plane was delayed taking off we missed our landing slot and circled Heathrow about 500 times. Eventually we landed, I got my bag and ten spent 2.5hours trying to get back to Clapham. It was the perfect 'fuck you' return to London. It was cold, everything was delayed, the tube was unbelieveably inefficient and I finally got to bed at 1am. 15 hours of travelling. Nice.

Farewell

I went to bed with the intention that I would get up on Saturday, have breakfast with the guys and then head up to Harlem. Which is pretty much what I did, excpet I went to bed at 4am so breakfast eneded up being at 3pm. That, plus an episode of Iron Chef America meant I arrived about 6pm. Couple of drinks and cigarettes on the deck and we were heading out for round two of the ever so good Isohama. sushi was even more amazing than last time, not only because the fish was fresher but because we ordered a round up of all time favourites. Two words people WHITE TUNA. OMG. Plus they make a mean Lychee Martini - not the sweet, cloying srup I've had in London but a refreshing and cranberry-dry sophisticated cocktail. Yum. Afterwards we headed out on the town and toured around a couple of bars. Names escape me but good company, crazy Russians and hot handymen do not. Eventually we rolled in watched an episode of Scrubs and I went to sleep about 2:30. Last night in NY *sniff*.

Lisa Garza Day

Suffering a massive hangover from the previous night meant my activites were pretty much limited to ordering fried chicken from Georgia's East Side Barbecue (AMAZING) and watching 5 hours of a reality TV show about a competition to be the next star (TV chef) on the food network. God its good. I'm sad not to be able to see it anymore. Perhaps I can find it on surfthechannel. Hmmmmm. Mostly due to the lady who titles this post. Go find her, I swear she's barely human. James and Corty are made of sterner stuff then I and both re-commenced drinking with the intention of going out. To be fair it was 4th July and a little partying was to be expected. As evening rolled around we could vaguely make out the East River fireworks from the fire escape of their apartment. A better view could be had from the roof but even the thought of stepping onto the fire escape filled me with nausea. Besides, firewaroks, meh, who cares? Saw the biggest fireworks display EVER in London and that was good, but has ruined all other firework shows thereafter. Jame and Corty ended up not going out, but spotted a party going on in the building next door. Corty was concerned it was a bit of a 'sausage fest' and wasn't to keen on going. James, with the irrepresable spirit of the part and the determination that there'd be more girls inside, took a flying leap of the side of the building and fell 7ft to the building below, landed awkwardly and bruised both his ankles. He tried to walk it off and maintain composure. But crippling agony and the realisation he'd crashed a gay party meant he soon returned home! Corty took advantage of the situation and piled James' bed (with him in it) with shoes, shaving foam, umbrellas and toilet roll. I've got the pictures, but not sure how to get them from phone to computer.

Mi casa es Schnabel's casa

Woke up with the realisation that I had but a few short days in NY and had as yet failed to visit an art museum of any description. Being that MOMA has probably the best art collection in the world and had recently been refitted I decided to head there. The art was as extraordinary as ever - an unrelenting sequence of art historical superstars hung tightly together, giving the impression of being repeatedly slapped. The new building was outstanding - large, open, public spaces full of light without any sense of intimidation. The most successful part was the flooring and the way the walls ended half a centimetre before touching it which gave the whole gallery a sense of lightness. Very Japanese, no surprises as it was a Japanese architect, Yoshio Taniguchi who was responsible for it. Perhaps the only bad thing was the way the paintings were hung - too many high imapct paintings on the top floor made the next floor down a somewhat deflated balloon of American works. I liked that the paintings were on the top two floors though - meant I saw more of the prints etc than I otherwise would've bothered with. Didn't like the paintings being on the top floor cause I nearly passed out walking across one of the elevated walkways with their glass walls. I soon learned to keep my eyes fixed straight ahead and not look either side.

Also realised I hadn't bought ANYTHING during my whole trip and so stopped at SAKS on my way out. Brief flash round, brief acknowledgement of how cheap I am and back onto the pavement. Then took a long walk from 55th to 27th street looking for somewhere to eat and ended up at a random Vietnamese place that was both cheap and tasty. After that was invited round to the Duke's house and spent a happy couple of hours dipping and drinking beer. Alas the Saint had heavenly duties in Harlem and so I headed to the Bowery solo where the beer drinking continued and delicious lobster bake was ordered from Nolita. Foxley came and joined us and we headed out to Marie's Crisis. Marie's Crisis is a gay piano bar and is principally known to me as the place Parker Posey's character works in Adam and Steve. As show tunes and live music are my ideas of fresh hell I was dragged along to get my hackles up and to endure the experience. I can see the appeal, the bar itself is great ... underground shame hole with some great behind-the-bar art and a massively saggy-bosomed proprietress. If only they'd just stop with the singing. After that we headed to the Rusty Knot on the West Side highway a particular favourite of Foxley's. Was pretty fun ... drank $11 Mai Tai's till they were coming out of my ears and pinnochio's nose was coming out of my face.

On the way out we'd walked passed Julian Schanbel's insane 17 storey mansion Palazzo Chupi [above] and Foxley was telling us about how it had been renovated and the spec of the place. On the way back, under the influence of much booze, James disappeared through the front door said to the doorman 'Hey, I'm Jean, I'm here to see Julian' and swished into the lift. A short while later he opened the garage door and we all crept into his house. Having been used to the boxy rooms and tight living space of most NY apartments it was very unusual to be in a place where entire rooms, nay entire floors, were given over to the installation of art. After four or so floors of art installation mania (eg the garge had two giant 15ft high figures fighting with what appeared to by giant needles) I started feeling guilty about being in someone else's house and so left. Corty and James powered on up and got high enough to hear footsteps and a dog! Eventually the doorman came to get them, seemingly very relaxed about the whole thing saying 'I hope you guys had a good time' and they were lead back onto the street.

Rocky is a national treasure

Despite our intentions to make an early start and take in some historical sites gin, pot and cheesesteaks ensured our depature was in the pm rather than the am. We headed over to the Reading Terminal Market which is glorious emporium of every imaginable cuisine mixed in with stalls of produce. Could easily imagine myself spening a great deal of time in there .... might even be worth moving to Philadelphia for. Hmmmm maybe I shouldn't be quite so obsessed with food shops. After 'breakfast' we swung by the house and picked up E's boyfriend and headed over to the Mutter museum of medial oddities. They'll try and tell you its the museum of the College of Physicians of Philadeplhia but I know a siamese-twin fetus in a jar when I see one ... and they had about 15. I'm not sure when I started likeing medical oddities and taxidermy. Both seemed to have emerged around the time I first started reading David Sedaris. I'd like to think his work awoke within me latent love of stuffed fauna and freakish skin conditions but have a sneaky suspicion I'm just imitating him like an imprerssionable 16 year old girl with a bedroom full of posters. Either way I left the Mutter museum educated, impressed and nauseous ... what's better than that? Along with a large collecion of skeletons, babies in jars and dried children's corpses (I shit you not) they have the distended colon from a guy who had 40lbs of poop removed from inside him when he died. Mmmmmm.

After the museum we did a quick driving tour of the major points of interest in Philly: city hall, indepedance hall, the university, West Philly (y'all know it from the Fresh Prince of Bell Air theme song) the boat clubs and the art museum. The steps of the Art Museum were famously cannonised in the Rockey movie and now, helpfully, there is a statue of Rocy there to remind you of the fact. Its at the bottom of the steps. They wanted to put it at the top, but apprently the ART museum had a problem with that. Can't imagine what. Hopped a train to Penn Station and before long was back in NY and the comfort of Harlem.

Philadelphia

Due to making decisions when drunk I woke up with a mission to head to Harlem, change and pack for a quick jaunt to Philadelphia. Corty's sister was driving his car back and we decided to join her. Henry spent a year there, Corty is from there and I'd never met his sister before (everyone kept telling me how much I'd love her) so many good reasons to go. Very glad I went as well, enjoyed Corty's sister as much as everyone said I would and liked Philadelphia more than I thought I ever could. For me it was almost the exact opposite of New Orleans. I expected the Big Easy to be a load of old buildings and creaking history but actually found a modern concrete jungle with a histroic district. Philadelphia, howver, I expected a modern connurbation but actually found rampant history with a small, modern business district. I'm sure it helped that E lived in the historic part of the city so I saw that bit first, but still, the overall impression was one of cosy historicism.

We got into town and met boyfriend and dog. The human constituents of our party then headed out for dinner. As a special treat for me someone had managed to organise a warship being parked up near the city so there were sailors in uniform EVERYWHERE and we sat outside a Cuban restaurant for dinner so had a great view of all of them. After an OK dinner Corty and I headed into the silent bars of Philly (apparently Tuesday night in Philly is not so hot) and drank a bottle of gin between us. This was followed by a bit of drunk driving to Pats at 3 in the monring for a cheesesteak. As Corty is a native of Philadelphia and a good friend I've heard over many years the glory of the cheesesteak and was eager the try it out. Being a contrary sort of person and definitely NOT a fan of processed cheese I was all reay to be discerning and hate it. First few bites I was impressed but not overwhelmed, about half way through I hit the sweet spot and it went from being good to one of the greatest things I've ever had to eat. The combination of steak, onions, cheese whiz and bread is something truly extraordinary. Each component as tasty and as necessary as the other. It pains me to know that I will not have an authentic one again for a long time.

Day of Ken

On Ken's suggestion we (Ken, Jen and I) headed downtown to go see an art exhibition. After stopping for a cheeky beer (would've been more but it was already about 5pm) we headed over to the gallery. Which was shut on Monday. Taking this in our stride I'd had the happy news that Corty was back in town after finally leaving the Poconos. Luckily as he'd been in the Poconos he came back with an ice chest full of beer which we quickly demolished. After some food (FANTASTIC burgers from La Esquina, best in NY? Haven't had enough to say for sure but they were pretty damn good!) all trooped off to Brooklyn on the promise of some Burlesque action. Turned out to be more of a vaudeville show with contortionists, magicians and removers of clothing in the line up. The acts ranged from nightmare inducing [woman dressed a pinocchio strips to reveal boobs with pasties on them and a nine inch rubber penis] to impressive [guy steps into a de-strug tennis racket, puts his head into it and pulls it back over his folded body]. After that we went to Church (not THAT kind of church, no one wants blood dripping down the walls so I try to steer clear of actualy religious structures), listened to Gospel and danced to a live band. Went back to the Bowery, smoked a doob and unconciousness was easily reached.