Hell I still love you New York...

My Ryan Adams/Parker Posey sighting totally made it onto gawker. I was pretty proud—it was the first time I’d ever thought to write in a “celebrity sighting” and I only did so because it was at such a seemingly weird place. I was waiting for Adam who is, like most of my friends, perpetually late, outside of Veselka so we could grab a quick bite before the Faint show and there they were eating at the counter inside. (Though I must say, she looks like she don’t eat much!) The Faint’s concert, by the way, was excellent. Their gothy, sexy dance music was offset by really interesting video art. Who is their video artist, I want to know! The only problem with the show was the overabundance of CMJ pass holder (all of whom are approximately 19 with hormones that are running wild) who do not use deodorant. Needless to say, I spent much of the show gagging. (I have a very sensitive sense of smell.) Anyway, back to my boyfriend Ryan…. Two days after spotting him in his western-shirted glory (looking much less fucked up than the last time I saw him at Rosario’s on the 4th of July in the sweltering heat wearing multiple jackets!) I walked into the Starbucks near work and they were playing songs off of “Heartbreaker.” Now, I know that he lives nearby and I was wondering how weird it would be for him to walk into some bastion of middle-American consumerism and hear one of his tunes about heartbreak. (I would like to add here that I myself was only in Starsucks because it is close to work and I don’t drink coffee so it is the easiest, cheapest place for me to get tea which I need because the air conditioning vents blow directly onto my desk.) I’ve often wondered how amazing it must feel to be onstage at a place like Madison Square Garden and look out over tens of thousands of people who are all singing along with you to a song you wrote. That must be the best feeling of affirmation ever. Better than having your book on the New York Times Bestseller List. Better than winning an Oscar. It’s not just an award saying that you are good, it is immediate, visceral reaction and acceptance of art that you created. Anyway, I was thinking about this as I was humming along to “Why Do They Leave?” and buying my green peppermint tea (or whatever stupid hippie name they have for the beverage I purchased). Ryan Adams could very well walk into this Starbucks to purchase his morning hangover cure and he’d hear this song that he wrote during a very dark time in his life playing to all of the latte drinkers. And that must be really weird. And strangely satisfying, too. Starbucks is like MSG for the Norah Jones set.