"I'm the leader of this pet store."

Where has Brandy been, you ask?

Why, enriching the dramatic minds of impressionable young ones, that's where. Enjoy this photo-blog which shall sum up my hi-jinx the past two weeks.

See Brandy up to her old tricks! Here she is with her adorable co-workers at the Hudson Valley Shakespeare Festival, chaperoning a field trip of 30 odd acting apprentices to see The Two Gentleman of Verona. And there's a picture of the Powerhouse Theater at Vassar College, where she's been known to get drunk at an opening night party and throw trays of "wraps" at the brick walls in time to "Love Is A Battlefield". Aren't you proud she's setting such a good example for the artistic youth she's charged with instructing?















My cabin at Vassar. Sometimes, it's even bug-free.




















Rosanne's covert bag full o' cheap beer. As teaching/administrative faculty, we all pretend we're not drinking at events where the kids are and they in turn pretend not to notice we, in fact, are. Mostly because they're trashed.
















Max & Ben, post lady-clothes at the outdoor Shakespeare performance. They are minors. God is cruel.















Tadd and I are not lying down. We're tall and whoever took the photo is crouching, drunk.




















Apprentice Company Manager Aram earns his allowance. In an Oscar the Grouch bra I found on the floor at Dylan's "80s Dance Party", no less.
















Vassar's Powerhouse Theater. I've drunkenly danced on these bricks at opening night parties times too numerous to count over the past decade.

Aram, Rosanne & I at HVSF last night. It was amazing.

"Free samples at the meat factory!"

funny bumper sticker
Originally uploaded by allygirl520.

I like this for a variety of reasons.

I miss Babs and Dy-lan.

I really do. Those scamps.

I am drinking a ginger ale and being pouty. I feel like I did when I was 13 and sitting at home, certain that there were cool older people out having a fun time at bars, and counting down the days until I too could go and have a drink at the bar and dance, dance, dance.

Except now I'm really extra pouty because I'm actually old enough to go out.

Big Audio Dynamite.

I spent the entire weekend upstate and the difference is obvious. I've been in a much better mood the past 24 hours and am looking forward to going back up soon.

Note to self: humid weather makes covering the hickey on one's neck up with concealer a tad more difficult.

Did you know Nigel has a blog? Porter sdays he likes it better than mine, and I guess I can't blame him. Nigel is pretty much the world's most magical cat.

The Honeymoon, She Is Over.

I can't make my hair look like it did yesterday. And I tried, valiantly. But it was pure magic that was worked on my red mane yesterday. And now the magic is gone, and I seem to have put a devilish pox upon my head. Eeep. But the memory lingers on. (Brandy puts on furry legwarmers, pirrouttes about apartment).

I can't watch enough Food Tv. There is no such thing as "too much" when we're talking about Paula, Giada, and even squeakily Satanic yet really talented Rachael Ray. I love cooking; I'm not terribly good at it but I greatly enjoy it. I love laying in bed until late morning, then deciding what delicious thing I want to eat, then strolling to the store, getting the ingredients, and doing my best to assemble it. It's even better to do with someone you're making out with. I love cooking for cute boys. Although I have to say, Anne and I had an amazing pigs-in-a-blanket brunch one fine Sunday as well...what?! OK, we are dating. You heard it here first.

But If Things Work Out, She's Gonna Stay...Awhile...

New haircut! Outrageously expensive! Look at me! Look!
Bad indie album cover pose and all! I count Nico and Loretta Lynn amongst my influences! Also I publish a 'zine! And I write a literate sex column! And I wear cowboy boots and sundresses because I'm a millennium Annie Hall! LOOK!

Thanks, Ana at Ouidad!

Salsa In The Living Room?!

This is why Am New York is dumb.

Because in today's "celebrity" birthdays paragraph, they mentioned Gonzalo "Gonz" Martinez De La Cotera from the band Marcy Playground. But AM New York did not mention Norman Cook (The Housemartins or, more notoriously, also known as Spike Jonze co-conspirator Fatboy Slim) having a birthday today.

Who the fuck does that?! If you're going to mention a musician in your stupid purile celebrity birthday thing, why not go with the one that the avearge dope who reads it may actually recognize?

The only reason I even read the damned thing was that it was free on the table at the deli when I sat down to have my everything bagel & iced coffee. Later, the stupidity of it popped back into my head and after 3 seconds of internet research, I found out that Mr. Cook had a b-day today as well.

I guess what I'm saying is, when do I get a job at AM New York now, looking up inane shit that's fit to print?

Oh, What A Night. (July 9, 2005)

The Four Faced Liar, 10:00 pm
The night began inauspiciously enough. Sara met me in the Village and we went to a little bar a friend recommended due to the high percentage of hot Irish bar staff. I was not disappointed. Angela joined us, and after a couple of Sapphire & tonics, everything was magically drunk.








Dark Room, 12:00 am
After a marathon stroll to the Lower East Side, we were in search of somewhere to go dancing and cause trouble. This place is atrocious but always provides entertainment galore in the form of scenesters and wanna-be scenesters. Sara verbally abused a man in an honest to god clown suit complete with blinking nose, and Anglea met a nice guy named Edgar. I got excited that they played "Your Love" by the Outfield.

NO PHOTO PROVIDED DUE TO: I AM LAME
The Magician, 12:45ish am
After deciding that the Dark Room was no longer funny and was instead reeking of desperation, we escaped to the Magician in order for me to play Matthew Sweet, the Beach Boys, and Echo & the Bunnymen on the jukebox (which I was too drunk & distracted to do after we got there) and stare longingly at boys with more expensive haircuts than mine. I realized I was pretty drunk when someone played "Imagine" and I screamed "Who the fuck goes out to a bar and plays this song?!" But really- who does that? How depressing. Edgar and Angela encouraged me to talk to a cute boy but I was too freaked out. As drunk as I was, I was still too shy. Bad idea, Brandy.








Welcome to the Johnsons, sometime at like, 2:00 am?
OK. This is when it all got kind of fuzzy. There was Ms. Pac Man and screaming from Sara & I as a result of it. There were 2 or three cans of PBR for me. Annie arrived at this point in what she called her "prom dress"- a very pretty non-stuffy black evening gown. She had been at a family friend's wedding and as such, was hammered. Perfect. We decided there were no cute boys and we ditched the bar to embark on a search for them. This is when things began to stray off the bicycle path- literally.















Tour de France 2005, 3:15ish am
There were many photos taken on the bike someone had oh, so foolishly chained to a pole outside the Johnsons. I had to pick Sara up to put her on the bike, and pick her back up to set her down. Some random drunken pals that were leaving the bar offered to take our picture, with one of them insisting he would do the honors as he was a "photo major". We bought his line. One of them insisted that I was "hiding", and I tried to explain that I was a huge monster compared to all the tiny tiny ladies I was with, and therefore was adjusting so as not to be an Amazon in all the photos. But what came out was this following loud drunken comment: "I'm too big". How elegant!















There was an awful styrofoam helmet hanging from this bike and I clamoured for a photo of Sara crouching on her hands and kness wearing it. Now at this point, a guy who had been sitting out front of then Magician on his bike the whole time we were there, now rode across the street and somehow talked Sara into getting on his bike. I immediately hated him and blamed my lack of makeout on him, and I named him Lance Armstrong.





















Sara had her heart set on a snack, so we went to get crepes. The clock was ticking, and I was craving a good stiff G&T and a tall gent to breathe it onto and had my heart set on Lakeside Lounge. But the clock was ticking to last call 4 am, and there were numerous distractions. One of these was a joint from Lance Armstrong, one of these was Sara grabbing a cute guy's phone and screaming "You're a whore!" into it, then hanging up. It turns out he was waiting to meet his freinds- the very same friends whose ranks included "photo major" from before! Sara threw herself on the hood of a BMW and sang "Here I Go Again" and made many new friends (sans the car owner who- after this display- managed to come out and drive away unnoticed by us). I finally lost my temper at this point, as I realized it had taken us 45 minutes to simply walk around the corner. Luckily a kind man named Sean happened to be walking by and gave me a beer.


But I was in a such a mood, that later when I spilled a bit of it on my top, I then dumped the rest of its contents down my front, yelled something close to "wet t-shirt contest!" (I think?) and then threw the bottle in the air. It sailed neatly over the fence surrounding a car lot adjacent to the projects on avenue A and smashed into a million pieces, like a movie sound effect. Now, there is talk from others in the party that the rear window was also smashed. I wouldn't know- I didn't look back. I was too busy pouting over lack of makeout and booze. What a diva.


We made our way to a bodega to get money for Angela & I to take a cab back to the amazing borough of Brooklyn. I think this final photo sums it all up nicely. Yes, Sara is modeling her penis made of apricots and a turnip. And Angela somehow has gum stuck to her money...we still don't know how. Thank you kindly. Good day to you, sir.

















I said, good day!

It's Fun To Do What The Machine Tells You.

HIJINX!

SCANDAL!

WRECKAGE!

SPITTLE!

All in one night.

When Sara posts the pictures tomorrow, I'll go ahead and fill in the blanks above.


Also, to whoever's car was in the lot adjacent to the projects on Avenue A- I am genuinely sorry about your rear window. I didn't think they were so fragile. Apologies.

Gypsies, Tramps & Thieves.

Tee hee.

I can't sleep, have terrible insomnia again. This does not bode well as I have to be up in a scant hour and forty-five minutes to catch a train upstate to teach. I'm on an awful schedule that I can't seem to shake. I can't get to sleep until frightfully late, then I'm asleep during the day and it's not a deep restful sleep because the sun is out, duh. So then I wak eup late in the day, depressed and tired. I feel like I'm in some NYU pre-med deprivation study. At least then I'd get paid.

Plus at this hour there is nothing good on TV because every channel seems to run some god awful informercial from 4 am until 8 am. Jesus! I remember when there were three or four infomercials, now there's at least 20 (Who just dated themselves blatantly? This one). The Cher hair products one was a personal fave. I wonder if they still even make & sell those Lori Davis products.

I ran into my one of my exes today as I was on the way to class. It was odd. Thank god I had makeup on and some semblance of a decent outfit versus my usual androgynous gay PE teacher look. It would have been awesome if I had a cute boy dripping off my arm, but ah, well.

Sometimes when you wear a skirt and heels, guys hit on you. I need to remember that when I stumble around and pull on clothes in the morning under the guding principle of "It's clean and does not make me scratch at myself".

I just went into an inexplicable frenzy and bought a bunch of cookbooks online. I want to start entertaining more and cooking at home for friends.

Cats have 3 eyelids.

I think I will go to karaoke tomorrow night in Queens.

For some reason when I'm riding the subway I assume everyone is staring at me.

Someone told me I had the "sexy librarian" look going for me recently. I was delighted, as I always assume I have the "dumpy soccer Mom trying for hip" look going on. If that Mom was drunk and obnoxiously forcing her friends to dance to Destiny's Child at their own party while wearing a baby blue feather boa, after jumping on their bed and dumping a vodka lemonade on it. You know, same old same old.

I am going to go lay in my bed and close my eyes and play possume for and hour and fifteen minutes now. Thanl you kindly.

"Coconut will not go gently into that goodnight".

He shall rage, rage against the dying of the light.

I do so love Raising Arizona.

I do not like people who leave their cellphones on in restaurants and then let them ring, over and over and over. I don't CARE if you have graduated tones, you're still a douche nozzle for doing it. RUDE.

People, save the date. I am celebrating my 21st birthday August 6th, 2005 and it shall be scandalous.

I woke up and prayed today, which happens on occasion. No, I am not religious- in fact I think organized religion is soma for idiots who cannot think for themselves and I choose to be moral on my own merits rather than earn "Jesus brownie points" by pretending to be charitable. But I do believe in a higher power which I make no apologies for. Apprently, this higher power was not in the United Kingdom early this morning. It's sort of strange to pray when religion is certainly what motivated a mass murder. But what else can you do? I woke up, started crying, and grasped at meta-physical straws. Human beings are pretty fucking stupid to one another.

Makeout Vacation.

It's pouring rain, which makes me all a-flutter. I have some sort of rain fetish. I don't really know why. I don't know where it comes from. I just know that when it happens, I get crazy. I want to go outside and make out in it. It's kind of juvenile I know- maybe it stems from some sixth grade fascination. But it really gets me hot & bothered.

Rain and fighting.

Jeepers Creepers, Semi-Star.

Central Park, New York City.
Originally uploaded by branleighbarber.

Imagine my suprise when I turned on Comedy Central and saw they were showing episodes of Mr. Show. Delightful, even with stupid commercials interspersed. The Jeepers Creepers sketch now looks like a Polyphonic Spree video.

I have so much that I've been meaning to write about, stuff I saw that inspired me greatly. A bunch of shows over the past two weeks that I was so impressed with. But I am so lazy that I spend more time thinking about the paragraphs I'll write rather than actually doing it. When I'm in the shower, I have these amazing insights I intend to write down the minute I'm dry & fully clothed. Rarely happens.

OK, I have officially seen that brain-numbing Attention Inventors commercial 5 times in the past two hours. "I shoulda goden a pay-dent!!!!" I swear that when that douchebag says that line, it makes me believe in IQ-enforced sterilization.

Man oh man, was Nigel ever angry at me when I got home today. There was a lot of acting out. That's what I get for being a bad cat parent.

Also, I am not moving home for at least another year. Freak out temporarily averted.