September 2010
August 2010
- UPS Guy: What's your last name again, sweetie?
- Me: McNeill
- UPS Guy: It's nice to see a good Irish girl around here with all these Polish people- they've all got 45 consonants and one vowel.
I’m not trying to brag. Or name drop. Or be pretentious or anything. I just had a cool night. And it wasn’t wild or anything- it was totally low key. And more and more I find things like this happening- meeting people I think are interesting and engaging and fun… I just think life here is really special. I feel really, really, really lucky.
Tonight after working at a job I love, I went to an amazing, tiny restaurant/bar under the J train in South Williamsburg called Moto. I went there with my friend Theresa who lives next to Dandelion Wine, my adored place of employment. Theresa works for a music management company, and they recently picked up Jolie Holland, an artist I’ve been crazy about for years and years -ever since I first heard her song “The Littlest Birds”, which I spent days searching for online, only knowing a few of the lyrics and having no clue who sang them. We sat at a tiny table drinking delicious wine (lovely apricot-y Bordeaux Blanc for me) three feet from adorable Jolie and her boyfriend/guitarist Grey… Next to us were two guys that seemed to know the performers. As the show went on, one of our neighbors joined Jolie at the mic and while she played a handmade boxy violin, he proceeded to rap…. At which point Theresa realized that he was none other than Boots Riley…. Who she had seen play before with pals from New Orleans…. As the night continued, we struck up a conversation over a life-changing Date Cake with Boots and his friend, who turned out to be Bill O’Reilly’s sworn worst enemy, Jeremy Glick, a literature professor at Hunter and the outspoken son of a 9/11 victim. Eventually Jolie joined us, and throughout the evening we all discussed pranks, racism, “Xanadu”, “The Warriors”, online dating, and Flavor-Flav, and Theresa got asked out on a date. As we were leaving, Jolie complimented my outfit and I got a flyer for her next show. All of this in the world’s cutest little dimly lit cafe with subways speeding back and forth literally right above our heads. And now, I’m home in my Greenpoint apartment with a brand-new refrigerator and the sweetest dogs, a new adventure under my belt, and my heart filled with love for this place I call home.
Oh, Brother. Is this for real?