The Fairytale of Hoboken Part 4: All the Remaining Driftwoof

Just a few of the other things that happened when I wasn't paying attention but my fingers were.

Here is my requisite NYC street shot. I couldn't use the one with the taxi in the forefront cause I was like "ew, taxi in the forefront, it's SO NYC". We took the seriously quick jaunt by bus to Port Authority Sunday night, to see the closing performance of Elly's favorite show, Brief Encounters. Which was really good, but that doesn't matter really does it, cause it's closed now. You should feel pretty bad for missing it. Here's a video of the cast members doing a set after the show. Our friend the Brit who was in it told us he had to become a spoon player for the show, and I think any profession where you have to learn the spoons is pretty a-okay. He was pretty a-okay too and got us into the cast party. It was not as much fun as Simon's cast party, but then, we had another mission at the point. The mission comes first.



Before the show, we sought out sustenance, which in the case of everyone but me was this 900 ft tall tube of beer. That's not a ceiling light above it. That's the glow of success.

The show was in Studio 54, and this is the lobby of same. SOMEBODY didn't tell me I was allowed to take pictures inside, so SOMEBODY ELSE (me) looked like a total rube.

On Monday, after the Ferry Station, I made Elly drive me to Newark. Because the first things I saw when I got off the airplane were those awesome port cranes, sticking their dinosaur necks out over the water, all massive and huge and peaceful. And I wanted them. As pets. But barring that, at least some shots.

I didn't get any though because, Oh hey, here's a cute story. If you do make it into the Port, past security and massive semis on all sides, and traffic everywhere? Well, there was this thing that happened a few years ago, and because of it they really upped security and because of that, you're not allowed to take pictures at the Port either. I found that out when I walked up to a police woman at a gate and asked if it would be okay to stand against the gate to get a shot. She laughed at me and told us to fuck off. Well, not really. But same concept.

Elly tried to make me feel better by telling me that since all our faces are digitally snapped going over all the bridges, at least since we asked the officer, they won't track us down later for doing bad things. Not exactly comforting. Also, I find it hilarious that Broadway shows and the Port have the same privacy policies.

Then, I made poor Elly drive all over Newark looking for abandoned buildings, which were extremely not hard to find. But I think she had the Fear in her from the Port incident, and she wouldn't come in. Which is okay. I just need to convince someone else to come back with me to Newark because wow, that place is like a candy store. It's an entire city made of E. 55ths. It was amazing.

Last thing, if you ever had a dream where I was kneeling on a frozen parking lot singing Roger Miller with no coat on (because I stupidly packed it for the airport) and no gloves and wearing a fucking knit dress and legging, while another girl played the ukulele and we both almost got hit by a car? I am about to blow your mind.