Wednesday, January 12, 2011
A Coast to Coast Culmination
With the ferocity of an adolescent's thirst for spirits, for the gateway, for the unknown, time wages its war onward. The never ending flow without the ebb. Enter year 2011 A.D. If I didn't wish you one personally, happy new year! I hope the transition from old to new was not seamless, and it stood out in memory in some way, whether negative or positive. As in you found yourself amidst a group of friendly faces, you were donning some fresh and fancy threads, perhaps feeling the tingling of alcohol's chemical fingers plucking at your synapses, maybe listening to some good music. Or you found yourself at 3:45am destroying the shower curtain of your host's house at after having one too many pig in a blanket hors d'oeuvres at a (trying to be adult) gathering. Either situation is memorable and fun in hindsight.
I brought in 2011 on the move. After counting down from 10 in a club in the meat packing district of Manhattan's lower west side, my entourage and I (if I may call them that) ducked out and made it to a much more personal apartment party. The group was sown by the bonds of collegiate friendship of the M.A.C.C., a band of raucous females named Miriam, Aimee, Caitlin and Chloe. The rest of the group was completed by the accompanying boyfriends myself, Danny and Jim.
The second part of the night was much more fun in comparison to the expensive club experience. The club kinda felt like trying to dance in a dark sauna with a bunch of people, mostly Asian males who were not my girlfriend. Sure there was an open bar, some balloons, an almost fight, some cool dance moves and buddy pictures, but that was about it. The apartment party was an environment much more conducive to bonding through taking the neck tie down a bit, stepping out of the five inch party heels, converting a beer bottle into a microphone, or jamming some cold cheese pizza into the old pie hole and letting the pooch protrude. There was some serious buffoonery going on, and mainly being perpetrated by the M.A.C.C. who were all gripped in the elation of female bonding.
The rest of the NYC trip was cool. It was marked by a lot of bagel eating, talking, gawking at the city's deplorable collections of garbage mountains on the frigid streets and trying very hard to do things a tourist would not do. As I said, it was cool. The trip lasted from 12/30/2010 - 1/5/2011.
Miriam and I came back to our work in progress Brentwood abode in Los Angeles around 11pm and were knocked out by around 1am I would say. After planning to leave and being distracted by the filth of Jersey Shore, I embarked at 11am on 1/6/2011 for San Diego to continue the festivities of the new year. On the ride down I stopped in the sleepy surf community and Jar Head frequented San Clemente to pick up esteemed friend Peter and continued on the road down to Pacific Beach, San Diego. Pacific Beach was my old stomping ground as of 10/15/2010, and setting up shop there was my other esteemed friend Andrew who was holing up in a housing structure that I had walked past maybe 150 times before his temporary sojourn. Thus started Dude Day 2011.
Andrew's dwelling was already affectionately named the 'Haunted House' for good reason. The entire time I knew of this dwelling conveniently located about 2 minutes walk from the Pacific, I was positive it was a squatting house for beach bums of the non-rent paying variety. The outside wood needed a new paint job in 1976. It was the kind of spot you could see Fester Adams living after taking a sudden interest in surfing. Or if the movie 'the Burbs' was to have a sequel in a beach town, this house is it. The two story structure was boxy with a flat roof and flanked with overgrown lush foliage. However, the interior was a different story. It was a spacious yet cozy feeling, with natural light pouring in through a wall of windows highlighting the hardwood floors, wooden walls and funky colors calling back to the 70's. Think cedar cabin meets beach bungalow and banana trees.
The dynamic duo of Andrew and Peter are redefining the phrase "Internet Advertising" with their business sense and international impact. Take a peek at what they are doing on www.kohadvertising.com. They are already accomplishing things that most people won't accomplish in their live times. Hopefully they have the bandwidth and server space to handle the Internet traffic generated by my mom and my South Korean stalker after that plug in the Pages. Dude Day/Weekend was a raging success, marked by hitting up the best spots in Pacific Beach like only we do. Most notably, we took over a make believe VIP section in Bar West and made other patrons believe it by acting like we were young money billionaires. The best way to pull this off is by wiping the sweat off your brow with a twenty, perching a five dollar bill on your shoulder like a parrot, or blowing your nose into a single. It really works, and is quite effective in making people think you are just plain weird. I look forward to celebrating old friendships and cultivating new friendships in 2011, and covering those stories on these here pages. Un gran abrazo, y nos vemos.
¶ 9:52 PM 
I brought in 2011 on the move. After counting down from 10 in a club in the meat packing district of Manhattan's lower west side, my entourage and I (if I may call them that) ducked out and made it to a much more personal apartment party. The group was sown by the bonds of collegiate friendship of the M.A.C.C., a band of raucous females named Miriam, Aimee, Caitlin and Chloe. The rest of the group was completed by the accompanying boyfriends myself, Danny and Jim.
The second part of the night was much more fun in comparison to the expensive club experience. The club kinda felt like trying to dance in a dark sauna with a bunch of people, mostly Asian males who were not my girlfriend. Sure there was an open bar, some balloons, an almost fight, some cool dance moves and buddy pictures, but that was about it. The apartment party was an environment much more conducive to bonding through taking the neck tie down a bit, stepping out of the five inch party heels, converting a beer bottle into a microphone, or jamming some cold cheese pizza into the old pie hole and letting the pooch protrude. There was some serious buffoonery going on, and mainly being perpetrated by the M.A.C.C. who were all gripped in the elation of female bonding.
The rest of the NYC trip was cool. It was marked by a lot of bagel eating, talking, gawking at the city's deplorable collections of garbage mountains on the frigid streets and trying very hard to do things a tourist would not do. As I said, it was cool. The trip lasted from 12/30/2010 - 1/5/2011.
Miriam and I came back to our work in progress Brentwood abode in Los Angeles around 11pm and were knocked out by around 1am I would say. After planning to leave and being distracted by the filth of Jersey Shore, I embarked at 11am on 1/6/2011 for San Diego to continue the festivities of the new year. On the ride down I stopped in the sleepy surf community and Jar Head frequented San Clemente to pick up esteemed friend Peter and continued on the road down to Pacific Beach, San Diego. Pacific Beach was my old stomping ground as of 10/15/2010, and setting up shop there was my other esteemed friend Andrew who was holing up in a housing structure that I had walked past maybe 150 times before his temporary sojourn. Thus started Dude Day 2011.
Andrew's dwelling was already affectionately named the 'Haunted House' for good reason. The entire time I knew of this dwelling conveniently located about 2 minutes walk from the Pacific, I was positive it was a squatting house for beach bums of the non-rent paying variety. The outside wood needed a new paint job in 1976. It was the kind of spot you could see Fester Adams living after taking a sudden interest in surfing. Or if the movie 'the Burbs' was to have a sequel in a beach town, this house is it. The two story structure was boxy with a flat roof and flanked with overgrown lush foliage. However, the interior was a different story. It was a spacious yet cozy feeling, with natural light pouring in through a wall of windows highlighting the hardwood floors, wooden walls and funky colors calling back to the 70's. Think cedar cabin meets beach bungalow and banana trees.
The dynamic duo of Andrew and Peter are redefining the phrase "Internet Advertising" with their business sense and international impact. Take a peek at what they are doing on www.kohadvertising.com. They are already accomplishing things that most people won't accomplish in their live times. Hopefully they have the bandwidth and server space to handle the Internet traffic generated by my mom and my South Korean stalker after that plug in the Pages. Dude Day/Weekend was a raging success, marked by hitting up the best spots in Pacific Beach like only we do. Most notably, we took over a make believe VIP section in Bar West and made other patrons believe it by acting like we were young money billionaires. The best way to pull this off is by wiping the sweat off your brow with a twenty, perching a five dollar bill on your shoulder like a parrot, or blowing your nose into a single. It really works, and is quite effective in making people think you are just plain weird. I look forward to celebrating old friendships and cultivating new friendships in 2011, and covering those stories on these here pages. Un gran abrazo, y nos vemos.
