Won't you take me to Retown?

The zip code of said "Retown" is now 11211. That is why I haven't written in so long. I've been moving. From the glorious Lower East Side back to the old stomping grounds of Williamsburg. The new apartment is great. The big windows are great. I've inherited two kitties, who are also great. The fancy cable is great. And the neighborhood- while teeming with the too-cool-for-school- is also obviously full of cute boys in bands. Which is- duh!- great. What could be wrong? (Aside from the fact that our hot water hasn't been turned on yet so B. and I are unwashed and smelly) We are still in that blissful early stage of newness where every quirk of the apartment is charming and everything else is the bees knees. Now if I could just convince my East Village friends to brave the L train trip across the river.....

So back to business..... it has been so long since I've writen and so much has happened in the meantime that I don't know where to start. So, in keeping with my tradition of lists (which is clearly influenced by my favorite channel- VH1, the king of list shows), here is one of the ++++ most important realizations of the last week.

1) If you felt lukewarm about your high school prom then going to two ironic, faux proms in two weeks as an adult really redeems the whole experience.
2) If you've somehow managed to lose the senior prom pictures that include your date Eli wearing his grandfather's top hat and tails then posing for new ones with Beth and Jen- especially since you now don't have embarassingly Sun-In-ed hair and 70s style platform shoes- will definitely be suitable replacements.
3) If you are going to a party for your favorite band of the moment, thrown by your favorite magazine and the rum is free, drink rum. Even when proferred straight up by the bartender.
4) If, earlier in the year, you accosted a member of said favorite band and made a fool of yourself in front of him, be sure to do it again. Hope that when you mention that you met him before that he will say, in a verbatim imitation of your earlier verbal diarrhea, "March 21st, Irving Plaza!" When he asks you if you think that every song on their new album is good, be sure to say- with total drunk sincerity- "All Killer, No Filler." Especially if the band's name happens to be the KILLERs.
5) Be sure to dance and sing along like an asshole when the band plays, especially if you are standing near your old boss. Especially if you are dying to work for that boss again.
6) If you can't end a first date without hooking up- maybe first dates aren't for you.
7) First dates that take place in your apartment are a bad idea. Especially if your apartment is all packed up so there is nothing to do or watch or listen to in it. There are only so many activities you can do with a stranger in an empty room.
8) Putting the entire Nirvana catalog on your ipod is the best idea ever. Go do it right now. You have forgotten how exciting "About a Girl" is and how truly great and emotionally naked their version of "Jesus Doesn't Want Me" is.
9) I don't know how I lived without digital cable for so long. On Demand is the best invention ever.
10) Even thought I felt lukewarm about the first few episodes of Six Feet Under this season, the show has me hooked now if, for no other reason, than I want to be Claire Fisher- all red-haired, dry-witted and art-school-ish. Plus they really reeled me in with this last episode based solely on their use of Radiohead's "Lucky". Radiohead are so cinematic that it is hard to make their music work as background noise in film, but this really expanded on the visual narrative. It totally expressed the longing and regret of the scene without the characters having to speak. Plus that song fucking rocks.
11) The youth of this country suck. If you can't get off your ass to go and buy tickets to Lollapalooza with its amazing lineup- so the whole fucker gets cancelled- you deserve radio waves full of Hoobastank and should be sentanced to a lifetime of watching that infuriatingly dumb video for Britney Spears' "Everytime".
12) The Thermals are awesome. I can't stop listening to Fuckin A. It is snotty and lo-fi and urgent but also pop-y and smart. Plus, for a brash little Portland 3-piece, they are oddly touching. Whenever I'm walking down the street listening to them on my ipod, I get weirdly maudlin and choked up during "Remember Today" when Hutch sings "Anything you can see, you can probably feel. Anyone far away, you can probably charge at" (NOTE: Do not miss them at Siren Fest. Seriously. It'll be hot and that'll suck but remember when you missed the Yeah Yeah Yeahs cuz you were too lazy to trek to Coney Island or remember when you had to hear from a friend how great Hot Hot Heat were live cuz you wanted to stay in the nice air conditioned apartment?? Don't make that same mistake again.)
13) Days seem weirdly long when you have to get up at 7 am to meet the movers or wait for the cable guy. So, when you stay up until 2 it feels like you've been up forever. Cuz you have.
15) I am whatever the opposite of Handy is. If I were a smurf, I'd be UnHandy Smurf. (Or Smurfette- cuz I always loved her blond hair, her gratingly high voice and her white bubble shoes!) Already my shelves have fallen out of the wall here (Uh, they were put up YESTERDAY!) and B. has basically set up every piece of furnature and electronics in the apartment. I blame my jewishness. My dad wasn't handly like TV dads. When shit broke in our house we called a handyman or a plumbler or a contractor. Irv's tools were strictly for show. A man with tools who knows how to use them (get your minds out of the gutter folks!) is so exotic to me. Maybe my British musician husband will also be good with a wrench......