To Be Continued And Revised...

As I mentioned in the past two posts, I had an adventure in the city.  Me and Other Dana took a road trip down from Albany to Brooklyn for a Dirty Projectors show at The Music Hall of Williamsburg.  Call me a hipster wannabe, but Williamsburg is one of my favorite places to go in NYC; there is plenty of great graffiti (pictures are coming, but right now I am blogging from my parent's house), indie comic book stores, and of course, vegan restaurants.

 Before heading down, Dana and I decided to make some homemade stickers (Priority Mail Labels are free) to post up around town.  Dana even remade some of the images we'd attempted failed at with spray paint. The graffiti artists here are amazing.  No doubt some of this art is commissioned, or created by the building owners, and though that may be less exciting, it still makes this neighborhood a vibrant, happy place.  Someday I want to upgrade to making stickers like this one.  We took to the train platforms with chalk and Dana drew a great White (Blue?) Rabbit waiting for the train.  As usual, I stuck to words. 

As the concert drew near, we chowed down at Foodswings (the wet dream of any fast-food deprived vegan), and I was thrilled to see that though ownership had changed hands, the bathroom was still graffiti-friendly, so I added my two-cents in.  The concert itself was mind-blowing and possibly spiritual (they do a cover of the Black Flag song, "Spray Paint (The Walls)" ). but it ended much later in the evening than we had intended to leave.  The lines for the merch table were unbelieveable, and add in autographs, and some time spent subtly liberating posters from the walls, and we found ourselves running, hysterical, to the subway.  On the way, were were snapping shots of some great art and I was shouting about how sad it was that the night had to end so soon. 

As we squeezed onto the L, I had a classic OCD moment of doubt. I yelled to Dana, "Get off! It's the wrong train!," and she just managed to pull herself through the closing doors as I realized I was freaking out for no reason.  Still, the great thing about NYC is that there are trains running all the time and another would be there soon, we had fifty minutes to get to Grand Central anyway, and only four stops to traverse.  Twenty minutes later the next L arrived.  It took twenty minutes between each stop.  People were screaming, "what the hell is wrong with this fucking train!?" Several women were crying.  I was crying too, because I was crazy, and now we were stuck in the city.  We arrived at Grand Central twenty mintues after we were supposed to.  After the last train out of the city leaves, the terminal is barricaded off.  So much for sleeping in the plastic arm chairs in Dining Concourse.