As I alluded to in my last post, Jarod and Steve came for New Year's Eve. I was super excited. I love my parents, but I was in need of some interaction with people that laugh at my jokes. Jarod hates laughing, so thank god Steve was with him.
I picked them up from the airport and we returned to my apartment to get ready and grab a bite to eat. Since I am a creature of habit, I suggested we walk around the West Village and see what is available. We found this cool little restaurant and ate. Had some drinks and found out where a couple of gay bars were in the neighborhood.
We walked to the gay bar and realized it was a major club. None of us were really in the mood for a big club, so we reenacted mine and Jarod's last trip here. We bought a couple of bottle of beers and brown-bagged-it around the East Village. I love the East Village. Eclectic and youthful, with little-to-no pretense. We continued to drink and enjoy the neighborhood. We didn't hit any bars or anything, and then just made our way back to the apartment.
Saturday came. We got up and went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I have said this before, but the Met is truly awe-inspiring. The vastness of this museum is incredible. You have an inherent appreciation for the stuff here simply because most of it is so freaking old.
After a few hours at the Met, we were getting a little hungry. Grabbed some pizza and decided to hit Little Italy for dinner. We subwayed it to Union Square, my old stomping grounds, and walked to Little Italy. I am a firm believer that you can't really see a city unless you are walking it. Walked through SoHo and down Broadway. Found some great street finds and eventually made it down to Little Italy. Found a good little dive restaurant and had some cheap, but good Italian.
Saturday night is when the insanity started. One of our street finds told us about this party in the West Village. He was selling some really good house c.d.s so we trusted that this would be a decent party. We come home, put on our Albertans-in-New York best and hit the town.
We get to the party and it is in this warehouse or gym of sorts. The crowd is super cool and chill and some KILLER music. There was a dance-off that Jarod participated in. He busted out some Ukrainian dancing on a breakdance tip. It was awesome. I have never been more in awe of him in my entire life.
We stayed at the party till like 5 in the morning. Jarod got VERY drunk and fell out of the cab when it stopped by my apartment. HILARIOUS!
Sunday was painful. We only got out of the apartment around 1:30 pm. We are not 18 anymore, and sleeping after drinking that much is much appreciated.
We then get our hungover asses out of the house and hit MoMA. I really like a lot of the stuff at MoMA, but there is a huge chunk of it that I just don't get. Modern art is a little over my head. Like a red canvas, sorry, I don't get it. So, meh, we finished that and then went to Grand Central Station. Every time I have been in GCS before, I have been running to catch a train or heading somewhere. I have never had a chance to hang out in the terminal and appreciate how cool it is. Very nice.
Finished at GCS and went to meet my parents for dinner. This was a typical Dias dinner. I mean, dad was harassing the wait staff, I was getting annoyed, mom was trying to keep it together, and poor Jarod and Steve got to witness all of this. Good times.
We did nothing of interest for NYE. We were tired, had no desire to stand in a crowd of 1 million people (yes, 1 million people) to see the damn ball drop, so we came back to the apt and hung out here. Didn't even really realize it was midnight till it was after midnight. Haha, I hate New Year's. So much expectations for a night that is usually just mediocre.
All in all it was an ab fab trip. I love having people here to talk to and laugh with and do the shit I want to do.
Next up ... Eve in 11 days! YAY!!!! I am so fucking excited it hurts.