Visit of OMG Redux: The Broadway Musical!
Apr. 8th, 2007 09:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ravenSleeping in New York is like sleeping in Delhi. You're treated to couples having domestic disputes below your window in shouty, intimate fashion, as a kind of human counterpoint to the traffic noise and aeroplanes overhead. Usually it's three am, you're peering out at the proverbial fire-escape vista of a city that is currently all surrrealist stoplights as far as the eye can see, and you have a hangover. A really, really bad hangover. Possibly and inexplicably the worst one ever. (The Platonic Hangover, yes, I despair at myself too.)
Which should, I guess, be taken as evidence in favour of yesterday having been one of the best days I've ever had, really, ever. It was characterised by freezing cold weather, long walks through Central Park and a now-somewhat-embarrassing litany of Reasons Why Leigh and Iona Fail At Life, And Failing That, At Least At New York, and just... it was lovely.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
likethesun2 actually arrived on Friday night, having had a protracted altercation with the MTA buses from La Guardia, as well as being sans luggage. Which is ridiculous when you're only gone for two days, but I get ahead of myself. I arrived in New York on Saturday morning with Shuhbra and Shweta, and we wandered around the South Seaport area and I was feeling weird and transitory and when they finally dropped me off in order to go smoke hookah return demurely to Connecticut, we all got a bit sniffly. This trip of mine has unconsciously mended a lot of family fences, more on which later, probably. They disappeared just as it was getting dark, and I went to buy toothpaste and hugged myself at the thought of being alone and loose on New York, and after a bit, I curled up in reception of the hostel I'm staying at and read The Bell Jar.
Well, I tried. I looked up every time someone came in, and accidentally freaked out a mild-mannered couple from Surrey, but I didn't move until Leigh arrived. And it was so good to see her. When we did Visit of OMG I back in September, we were getting emotional in the airport at the thought that it might actually be years till we saw each other again, so I reckon seven months is quite impressive. And there should be more OMGs. We decided this at a bagel place across the street, where I ploughed slowly through a quite extraordinary amount of cream cheese - by the way, the American idea of whipped cream cheese? Best thing ever - and we talked about nothing in particular, about fandom and airlines and why I am dead byremixredux, and I was still feeling so much glee, and because that is what fangirls do, Leigh pimped television. She made me watch Slings and Arrows, which is not about Canadian investment bankers, but rather about a guy who went crazy playing Hamlet.
I was sold. And having watched the show, I really was sold; it's so much fun, and ohhh Paul Gross, and once again there is not time to watch all the television in the universe. On Saturday morning our roommates cleared out at ridiculous o'clock, and we emerged at a quite sensible time and wandered down Broadway in search of food. We found a diner that looked identical in every detail to Eddie Rocket's in Liverpool - in fact, it's not actually a myth that there are a lot of similarities between Liverpool and New York. They were opposite ends of the shipping route, I guess. This is not to say there was some sort of historical diner significance. What there was was a cinnamon Danish the size of my head. Honestly. It was bloody enormous. Too big to actually eat. I wasn't able to concentrate on the conversation - by this time we were talking about the relative merits of Opus Dei and bovine veterinary science - because I kept being distracted by the breakfast that would have fed the masses. Oh, my.
The plan for Saturday was to have the Panfandom Lunch somewhere in the city, but in the meantime we went to the Strand bookshop downtown and this is where it started to get a little silly. First of all, the Strand goes in my top ten list of bookshops; it's sort of like an eccentric indie bookshop for all it's enormous, and I kept on finding books I'd never heard of and finding the blurb fascinating, reminding myself of my limited budget, putting them back on the shelf and starting over. And while we were there, Leigh was trying to organise the Panfandom Lunch O'Doom and actually, I think I should make the list of Why We Failed At New York:
-I'm scared of the subway and compare it disparagingly to the Underground;
-Ditto Leigh, but for "Underground" read "DC Metro";
-She got lost on the way from the airport;
-I got lost at Columbia the day before;
-We got out of the subway at the Strand and proceeded to not, actually, find the Strand, despite the fact it's right there;
-Later that day we walked twenty blocks and across Central Park without finding anything we wanted to eat;
-After we did find something we wanted to eat, we got the subway to Union Square and went uptown instead of downtown and somehow ended up at 96th and Broadway (at that point I just said, resignedly, "Leigh, we went the wrong way");
-Once we made it to Union Square, Leigh accidentally told Tory we were in Chicago;
-etc. There's more, but I get ahead of myself.
So we made it to the Panfandom Lunch (we didn't know the name of the restaurant, but we knew it had a) a brown awning and b) was in New York) and metfuries and tobiascharity and ate very spicy Thai food and were gossipy. (foreverdirt: I delivered a manly shoulder pat, as promised.) Following which, Tory, Leigh and I went to the Met, which was complicated, because we were stopping to misguide tourists, and because we spent most of the time in the Met looking for a painting of Washington crossing Delaware. (I should point out here that I don't believe Delaware exists.) We didn't find it (thus confirming that it doesn't exist), but we did find Egyptian tombs, four-poster beds, sculpture gardens, gilt armour for horses, all kinds of wonderful things. And eventually Tory disappeared to have dinner with her parents - who had been convinced that we all met at, er, Interlochen - and Leigh and I immediately got lost, because we Fail. And we continued to fail, walking out in the dying light across Central Park headed for nowhere in particular, but that was the lovely sort of walk, talking and talking until it really got too cold to stay out.
The initial plan was to go to Union Square with Tory after dinner and mooch round bars, but what with one thing and another (basically, Tory and I are underage, wooooe) we decided the best thing in the world would be to go to Tory's dorm room at NYU, drink gin and watch QI on the laptop. I still think this is the best idea anyone has ever had, ever. Tory can't measure out gin. I am unable to bring myself to consider this as a character flaw. And in fact my memory gets a little blurry here, but basically, we got ridiculously hammered in an equally ridiculous amount of time. I sent a brief email to my parents - am alive, am drunk at NYU, am catcalling Stephen Fry - and sat back and felt as stupidly, simply happy as I have ever felt. Through the gin, we watched three (or maybe four) episodes of QI, got steadily more maternal towards Alan Davies, looked for poetry in the bathroom (Tory's room is LOVE; last night was the first time in five weeks I'd been in a room that was a real room and not just somewhere to stay, and it's all pretty and bright colours and full of interesting things on the walls), giggled and giggled and finally, at some hour of the morning that I don't recall, I think Leigh and I agreed that we fail at the subway when sober, and when drunk would probably end up in Massachusetts. ("The subway doesn't go to Massachusetts," complained Tory, an entirely irrelevant objection.) So we got a cab, and I think I probably grabbed a cigarette along the way and was still stupidly, perfectly happy blowing smoke into the freezing air.
The cab took us uptown, and I paid the driver in Hindi without realising until later, and by three am, was listening through the window to the domestic dispute and feeling very much like I had gin coming out of my pores. But the thing that actually hurt my head was Leigh leaving me this morning at eight o'clock. I was, and am, bereft. Yesterday was a perfect day in New York.
Which should, I guess, be taken as evidence in favour of yesterday having been one of the best days I've ever had, really, ever. It was characterised by freezing cold weather, long walks through Central Park and a now-somewhat-embarrassing litany of Reasons Why Leigh and Iona Fail At Life, And Failing That, At Least At New York, and just... it was lovely.
likethesun2 actually arrived on Friday night, having had a protracted altercation with the MTA buses from La Guardia, as well as being sans luggage. Which is ridiculous when you're only gone for two days, but I get ahead of myself. I arrived in New York on Saturday morning with Shuhbra and Shweta, and we wandered around the South Seaport area and I was feeling weird and transitory and when they finally dropped me off in order to Well, I tried. I looked up every time someone came in, and accidentally freaked out a mild-mannered couple from Surrey, but I didn't move until Leigh arrived. And it was so good to see her. When we did Visit of OMG I back in September, we were getting emotional in the airport at the thought that it might actually be years till we saw each other again, so I reckon seven months is quite impressive. And there should be more OMGs. We decided this at a bagel place across the street, where I ploughed slowly through a quite extraordinary amount of cream cheese - by the way, the American idea of whipped cream cheese? Best thing ever - and we talked about nothing in particular, about fandom and airlines and why I am dead by
remixredux, and I was still feeling so much glee, and because that is what fangirls do, Leigh pimped television. She made me watch Slings and Arrows, which is not about Canadian investment bankers, but rather about a guy who went crazy playing Hamlet.I was sold. And having watched the show, I really was sold; it's so much fun, and ohhh Paul Gross, and once again there is not time to watch all the television in the universe. On Saturday morning our roommates cleared out at ridiculous o'clock, and we emerged at a quite sensible time and wandered down Broadway in search of food. We found a diner that looked identical in every detail to Eddie Rocket's in Liverpool - in fact, it's not actually a myth that there are a lot of similarities between Liverpool and New York. They were opposite ends of the shipping route, I guess. This is not to say there was some sort of historical diner significance. What there was was a cinnamon Danish the size of my head. Honestly. It was bloody enormous. Too big to actually eat. I wasn't able to concentrate on the conversation - by this time we were talking about the relative merits of Opus Dei and bovine veterinary science - because I kept being distracted by the breakfast that would have fed the masses. Oh, my.
The plan for Saturday was to have the Panfandom Lunch somewhere in the city, but in the meantime we went to the Strand bookshop downtown and this is where it started to get a little silly. First of all, the Strand goes in my top ten list of bookshops; it's sort of like an eccentric indie bookshop for all it's enormous, and I kept on finding books I'd never heard of and finding the blurb fascinating, reminding myself of my limited budget, putting them back on the shelf and starting over. And while we were there, Leigh was trying to organise the Panfandom Lunch O'Doom and actually, I think I should make the list of Why We Failed At New York:
-I'm scared of the subway and compare it disparagingly to the Underground;
-Ditto Leigh, but for "Underground" read "DC Metro";
-She got lost on the way from the airport;
-I got lost at Columbia the day before;
-We got out of the subway at the Strand and proceeded to not, actually, find the Strand, despite the fact it's right there;
-Later that day we walked twenty blocks and across Central Park without finding anything we wanted to eat;
-After we did find something we wanted to eat, we got the subway to Union Square and went uptown instead of downtown and somehow ended up at 96th and Broadway (at that point I just said, resignedly, "Leigh, we went the wrong way");
-Once we made it to Union Square, Leigh accidentally told Tory we were in Chicago;
-etc. There's more, but I get ahead of myself.
So we made it to the Panfandom Lunch (we didn't know the name of the restaurant, but we knew it had a) a brown awning and b) was in New York) and met
furies and tobiascharity and ate very spicy Thai food and were gossipy. (foreverdirt: I delivered a manly shoulder pat, as promised.) Following which, Tory, Leigh and I went to the Met, which was complicated, because we were stopping to misguide tourists, and because we spent most of the time in the Met looking for a painting of Washington crossing Delaware. (I should point out here that I don't believe Delaware exists.) We didn't find it (thus confirming that it doesn't exist), but we did find Egyptian tombs, four-poster beds, sculpture gardens, gilt armour for horses, all kinds of wonderful things. And eventually Tory disappeared to have dinner with her parents - who had been convinced that we all met at, er, Interlochen - and Leigh and I immediately got lost, because we Fail. And we continued to fail, walking out in the dying light across Central Park headed for nowhere in particular, but that was the lovely sort of walk, talking and talking until it really got too cold to stay out. The initial plan was to go to Union Square with Tory after dinner and mooch round bars, but what with one thing and another (basically, Tory and I are underage, wooooe) we decided the best thing in the world would be to go to Tory's dorm room at NYU, drink gin and watch QI on the laptop. I still think this is the best idea anyone has ever had, ever. Tory can't measure out gin. I am unable to bring myself to consider this as a character flaw. And in fact my memory gets a little blurry here, but basically, we got ridiculously hammered in an equally ridiculous amount of time. I sent a brief email to my parents - am alive, am drunk at NYU, am catcalling Stephen Fry - and sat back and felt as stupidly, simply happy as I have ever felt. Through the gin, we watched three (or maybe four) episodes of QI, got steadily more maternal towards Alan Davies, looked for poetry in the bathroom (Tory's room is LOVE; last night was the first time in five weeks I'd been in a room that was a real room and not just somewhere to stay, and it's all pretty and bright colours and full of interesting things on the walls), giggled and giggled and finally, at some hour of the morning that I don't recall, I think Leigh and I agreed that we fail at the subway when sober, and when drunk would probably end up in Massachusetts. ("The subway doesn't go to Massachusetts," complained Tory, an entirely irrelevant objection.) So we got a cab, and I think I probably grabbed a cigarette along the way and was still stupidly, perfectly happy blowing smoke into the freezing air.
The cab took us uptown, and I paid the driver in Hindi without realising until later, and by three am, was listening through the window to the domestic dispute and feeling very much like I had gin coming out of my pores. But the thing that actually hurt my head was Leigh leaving me this morning at eight o'clock. I was, and am, bereft. Yesterday was a perfect day in New York.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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on 2007-04-09 02:38 am (UTC)And yet S&A is one you should MAKE TIME for, because it just just. that. awesome.
I'm glad you had such a good day! :)
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on 2007-04-09 04:09 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2007-04-09 09:25 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2007-04-09 04:14 pm (UTC)(Paul Gross, oh my god. So much love.)
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on 2007-04-09 09:28 pm (UTC)And suffice it to say, the fact that I had seen S&A in order to foist it off on Iona... was your fault. :D
Mwahaha! Now I'm definitely a fandom addiction fairy franchise! (You're the second person who's hooked someone on S&A after I did the initial hooking. That person also went on to hook her poor roommate on due South as well. I am the McDonald's of fandom addiction!)
(Paul Gross, oh my god. So much love.)
Dear god, yes. Have you seen Wilby Wonderful? If you haven't, you (and you too,
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on 2007-04-09 09:56 pm (UTC)You totally win at the addiction business. And I thank you for it. S&A has made my life a brighter place.
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on 2007-04-10 02:08 am (UTC)(And on an easily amused note, I enjoyed being able to recognize 75% of the actors from other movies or TV. The Canadian entertainment industry is more incestuous than the BBC stable, I swear.)
You totally win at the addiction business.
*does a victory dance*
And I thank you for it. S&A has made my life a brighter place.
Hee. I think certain episodes should be required viewing in various English classes at Kenyon. Surely most English majors would enjoy it...
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on 2007-04-09 02:47 am (UTC)First of all, I find it somewhat soothing to learn that you guys failed at NYC in all the same ways Vero and I failed at NYC during reading week. Except, rather than losing the strand, I lost my favourite mittens at the Strand and I don't think we really got lost at Columbia because I didn't actually want to find the French department because I didn't want to jinx anything.
Funny how Slings & Arrows isn't about investment bankers... Maybe we should have OMGIII at the Stratford Festival in honour of that and you can all come stay in my living room (YES!)... though I was silently rooting for OMGIII to be in London (the real one).
Where did you stay? And, oh, tell me more, more, more!!!
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on 2007-04-09 04:12 pm (UTC)We stayed a hostel on 101st and Broadway - where I still am - and we talked about fandom a LOT, and there wasn't enough time, there is never enough time! I so wished you were here. We kept on talking about you and worrying about your thesis. *squishes you*
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on 2007-04-09 07:30 pm (UTC)I think an OMG that is not unfairly biased in my favor also has an added benefit for me: there are no expectations whatsoever that I be able to navigate in Canada or London. I am all for delegating responsibility navigational or otherwise, and by "delegating responsibility" I mean "never having responsibility in the first place."
Seriously, if you build it? I WILL COME. I somehow doubt my ability to get out of the country in the next year/year and a half (although Canada is slightly more plausible since my sister may be touring again), but I have to say... your not-Bush birthday in '09 is a beautiful idea.
Sorry, will stop spamming your journal now! Or at least for a little while. :)
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on 2007-04-09 10:04 pm (UTC)Where is your sister applying for university? And what does she want to study?
not-Bush birthday sounds AWESOME.
Right, okay, leaving.
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on 2007-04-10 01:35 am (UTC)I think she's looking to study science of some kind--she was into forensics, last I heard--but it's fuzzy. She's good at a lot.
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on 2007-04-10 03:38 am (UTC)SORRY IONA, I KNOW THIS IS TOTALLY UNCALLED FOR.
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on 2007-04-10 03:43 am (UTC)How sad is it that I actually set out to promote the school before I thought, OH YES, ULTERIOR MOTIVE!??
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on 2007-04-10 03:48 am (UTC)(yes, sorry sorry sorry for hijacking your journal on this tangent! WE ARE SUCH INTERNET TERRORISTS.)
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on 2007-04-10 12:32 am (UTC)My Not-Bush birthday needs to be an OMG extravanganza, seriously. And don't stop spamming. :)
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on 2007-04-10 03:39 am (UTC)no subject
on 2007-04-09 09:54 pm (UTC)But your London, YES. I find out THIS MONTH whether I'll be in Germany next year which is rather closer and handy for visiting as well.
Hee! We stayed in a hostel on 103rd and Amsterdam Ave... so, so close. I love that neighbourhood so much.
Thesis will be okay. *breathes*
*squishes back*
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on 2007-04-10 12:33 am (UTC)GERMANY. *hyperventilates* You must let me know immediately!
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on 2007-04-10 03:32 am (UTC)Alas, it would have to be in 2009ish, as Hamlet isn't playing this season, and I don't intend to be in North America in 2008.
I don't know that I've ever seen Hamlet either. That is, beyond enduring Kenneth Branaugh's, um, thing. And the other film versions. I've never see it on stage.
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on 2007-04-10 03:40 am (UTC)no subject
on 2007-04-10 03:44 am (UTC)no subject
on 2007-04-09 04:20 pm (UTC)Columbiasome unspecified nearby university. Somehow.OMG, have YOU seen S&A? Because you must! You would adore it! And now I can't decide where I'm rooting for OMGIII to be, because I have never been to London and would love to, but the Stratford Festival! My Hamlet boyfriend might turn up there! Tough decisions.
Iona hit all the good details, although I'll try to add what I can when I write next. But I think you will appreciate this: Tory showed us Rodney McKay kissing a man. After some heteronormative activity that we heckled. Yes. We heckle abstract societal constructs.
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on 2007-04-09 10:02 pm (UTC)Yes, I have seen S&A, and I think I'm actually in my mind blending your and Iona's comments in my mind because I am just that excited... Paul Gross makes me happy in pretty well everything. And, OMGIII in London would be *fabulous*, but the Stratford Festival is also great and close, close, close. And if we want to continue with Unfairly Biased, Vero has an uncle in Washington who has apparently offered us lodging and transportation, so this summer, thesis willing, I might be somewhat close to you with ACCESS TO A CAR.
Rodney McKay kissing a man. OH YES. You see why I like my big gay space opera? HETERONORMATIVITY MUST BE HECKLED. And on that note, I should probably leave, since I'm heading in to town to rent Queer as Folk because after today's Sex & Culture lecture in which James used a scene from that to sum up every theoretical concept we have covered all term, WE ARE HORRIBLY ADDICTED.
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on 2007-04-09 11:13 pm (UTC)Even if OMGIII isn't in Canada (I'm amused by how specific this is, too: somewhere in Canada!), someday I am resolved to get to the Festival. Because it looks like so much fun. And eeeeeeeeeeeeee, DC! That would be cool beyond measure, seriously. You must let me know if it pans out. I mean, of course this will be the first summer in years where I'm not working in DC, but especially if my career plans remain part-time, I'll have days free for city visits. And also extra tickets to DC theater, if that's any incentive. :D
Hahaha, oh, you misunderstand! By "Rodney McKay" I meant Hewlett. I had already seen the SGA episode where McKay kisses a man. This was Hewlett in a movie kissing a man. Sadly, I was too drunk to register what movie.
Finally: I love how we have all decided, without any official consultation, that OMGIII is going to happen. I can't tell you how gleeful this makes me.
Okay. Sorry for spamming you again, Iona! I can't help myself. I hope you're having an amazing night and eating something more substantive than bagels.
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on 2007-04-10 12:37 am (UTC)I was, until recently, eating Chinese food with
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on 2007-04-10 03:30 am (UTC)no subject
on 2007-04-10 03:43 am (UTC)Seriously.
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on 2007-04-10 03:29 am (UTC)Well, what will probably happen is that I take the Greyhound down, I stalk you for a few days until I realise I can't take it with the under-12s, and then we drive the car back to Canada, but we shall see. Oh yes.
It's Century Hotel, then. I love that kiss.
That OMGIII is going to happen is like the earth turning. It's just the way it is.
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on 2007-04-09 07:02 am (UTC)Still my favorite painting at the Met, incidentally: Young Woman Drawing (http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/18wa/hob_17.120.204.htm), by Marie-Denise Villers. There's a novel brewing in my head entirely because of this piece. Someday, I swear it will get written... I swear.... ;)
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on 2007-04-13 08:18 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2007-04-09 09:21 am (UTC)no subject
on 2007-04-09 03:21 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2007-04-10 12:42 am (UTC)no subject
on 2007-04-09 10:18 am (UTC)...suddenly, in my head I'm re-casting Traders with Paul Gross. *shakes in fear*
Glad you're having such a wonderful time! It sounds made of awesome.
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on 2007-04-10 12:43 am (UTC)no subject
on 2007-04-09 10:40 am (UTC)no subject
on 2007-04-10 12:43 am (UTC)no subject
on 2007-04-09 04:13 pm (UTC)Eeek, I'm so sorry I left you alone in NYC hungover! (Weren't we just having a conversation a week or two ago about how you'd never really been hungover? Well, that was the drunkest I'd ever been, so we set lots of alcoholic precedents this weekend!) I was actually convinced I was still going to be drunk by the time I went to the airport, because I woke up briefly around four and the room wouldn't stay still. And as I think I said the night before, being drunk to go back to Ohio honestly might have been a really good idea.
got steadily more maternal towards Alan Davies
I am not entirely sure that our feelings toward Alan Davies could fairly--or, um, legally--be described as "maternal." Mine certainly couldn't be.
...Also, I just noticed this as I was about to hit Post, but OH MY GOD. I just discovered "Dear Mr. President" last week, and I swear to God, I meant to make you listen to it when I came, but then I forgot. Clearly, I didn't need to. Awesome.
You are fabulous. Saturday was fabulous. I miss you.
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on 2007-04-10 12:51 am (UTC)You left me hungover in New York! *laughs* Oh, how did we get so drunk? I honestly have no conception of how. Off past evidence of how quickly I get that drunk, I reckon Tory must have poured each glass with the equivalent of five standard shots, or 125ml of gin. At three am the world was spinning, and I remember thinking quite clearly oh, dear, we're going to be drunk at eight am. And talking of precedents: I have never enjoyed being that drunk so much before. I have this weird notion that we clicked on an episode of QI and it turned out to be porn instead. Did that really happen? I don't know!
Alan Davies, OMG! Okay, maybe "maternal" was pushing it. But he's so lovely, and they're so meeeeeean to him, and I so totally don't want to jump his bones. (Next OMG, I am making you watch Jonathan Creek. It is made of win.)
So, indeed, is "Dear Mr. President", which ironically enough, I only discovered two weeks ago. You are so awesome. Miss you too. So much. x
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on 2007-04-10 01:55 am (UTC)Oh, god. I read this and started laughing SO HARD that one of the guys next door poked his head in. This did happen. And you identified it as porn by the music before the opening credits. Wow, I am so pleased that there are still parts of the story left for me to tell: your alcohol gaps! :D Do you remember KNOWING THE ONLY SURVIVOR OF THE CRIMEAN WAR? (!!! HOW?)
(Also, since you too were apparently semi-awake at the proper hour: um, was it just me, or did someone climb up the fire escape past our window that night? I swear this happened.)
Heeeeee. We should all start making lists of shows to force on everyone for next OMG. Because there are a lot.
And that, I think, is a happy note to end this comment on.
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on 2007-04-13 08:21 pm (UTC)I also have no memory of anyone walking up the fire escape, but this in no way indicates it didn't happen. It's so unfair, I have alcohol gaps but you don't! And now you can embarrass me with anything ridiculous I may have said while, er, tipsy.
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on 2007-04-09 10:04 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2007-04-10 12:52 am (UTC)no subject
on 2007-04-12 03:37 am (UTC)I assume you're back home now, and hopefully getting a little time to detoxify before you have to run back to school. Enjoy.
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on 2007-04-13 08:22 pm (UTC)