Mood Boards in Chelsea

I had arrived in Chelsea an hour early for my hair appointment and it was just my luck that it was raining on me like it was pouring on Jonah inside the whale.  I don't even know what that means but I imagine Jonah must be drenched sitting inside a whale for three days and three nights.  Can you imagine the smell? 

Hello, Shorty!

I had applied months ago for a free haircut at Bumble and bumble in the Meatpacking District but they had a model call that I couldn't go to, so the beauty school in NJ was the next best thing.  Then I got an email from Bumble a few days ago inviting me to a razor bob class.  Yey, I'm scared.  Why do they suddenly have openings for this specific cut?

I met Gaby, who lives in Dallas and is of Mexican descent.  The people from Bumble and bumble made sure we understood that the stylists are all working professionals and not students just finishing beauty school.  I guess they saw my face of dread and anxiety.  The razor bob is so much shorter than what I'm used to.

American Idiot

I am a gay man trapped in a straight woman's body.  I love Broadway musicals.  Mamma Mia and Phantom of the Opera blew me away and kept me humming Abba and the dreadful Phantom organ solo for days. I haven't been to see another musical in a few years so I was excited when a friend invited me to see one.  I decided on American Idiot, a play based on the music of Green Day.

I didn't like it.  I used to be as punk as these kids but I could barely hide my impatience throughout the show.  The actors had their eyes half-closed in mock high on sex, drugs and rock and roll.  The story was a mess, the choreography was repetitive.  Anybody can act like they're all over the place.  I was yawning too much for something that I should be enjoying.  When the audience started giving them a standing ovation, I was thinking, "Really?  A standing ovation for this hot mess?"

Then again, maybe what I'm impatient about are these spoiled American brats wasting their life away when a lot of Third World kids are either dying of hunger for food or education.  I'm getting old but the punk in me is not dead yet.

Sunday Brunch

I went back to Portofino for that curiously tasty clams oreganata.  I'm so in love with the breading and herbs on top of it, it's not even funny.  At $8.50 for 6 shells of medium-sized clams, I really didn't want to laugh but when I was eating it, I couldn't wipe the stupid grin off my face.

Portofino has brunch buffet for $20 on the weekends but the baked clams and pasta with white clam sauce weren't included in the buffet line so a la carte it was.

Matalo, Messi, Matalo!

Kill them, Messi, kill them!  It was a little unnerving that this was being said by a little Argentine girl in pigtails during the US vs Argentina game at the Meadowlands Stadium Saturday night.

I had been so determined to see an actual soccer match with Argentina playing ever since Neruda told me about the games he used to watch in Buenos Aires.  South American football is intense, exhilarating and so much funner to watch live than on TV.  There had been numerous times when I fell asleep while watching the World Cup in my bedroom or Neruda's living room.

Can I just get this out of the way?  Messi is so freaking hot despite his huge nose.  I went to the front row before the match started so I could at least try to get a better photo.  Of course, my lowly camera wouldn't succumb to my demands, all my pictures were shitty.  I was surrounded by grown men screaming, "Messi!  Hijo de puta, que lindo!"  

 

Argentina scored a goal in the first half, US scored in the second.  I don't have a photo or video of either goals.  Nobody won.  What the bloody Mary?  After all the screaming that I did pretending to be Argentinian and nobody won?  That's just downright mean.

Beijing on my Mind (Day Two)

Fall is the best time to climb the impossibly narrow steps of the Great Wall.  It isn't too cold that you'd be concentrating on keeping your teeth from chattering instead of the keeping your eyes on the steps.  It isn't too hot and humid that you'd be taking off every piece of clothing you have before you even get to the first gate post.

I'm just about done writing about Beijing now.  We also went to the Temple of Heaven and a silk factory but I can't find pictures.

I love this photo, hair everywhere!

The Great Wall view from the side of the mountain

Beijing on my Mind (Day One)

The Forbidden City looked just that, forbidding, austere but elaborate.  I'd imagined the Empress Dowager and the littlest emperor Pu-yi walking the huge plaza and palace halls.

Tiananmen Square

We were on a guided tour, so imagine the Chinese lady-guide prodding us every 5 minutes to snap our photos and get on with it already.  The Chinese can be a tad rude sometimes, whether selling fake Rolex watches on Nathan Road in Hong Kong or taking your order in a hole-in-the-wall noodle house in Tsim Sha Tsui.