My Boring Christmas

I didn't go home this year. I was scared to be in NY for Christmas since my three closest friends were all out of town. I thought I'd be at home alone, crying, then maybe muster out to a movie by myself and come home and cry again.

Fortunately I had some friends in town who stayed in New York, so instead of feeding into my preemptive pity party I woke up early and checked my mailbox which I'd been avoiding all week. I was psyched to find two packages of presents and a stack of Christmas cards waiting for me, as well as dozens of little holiday messages from people I love. Also, thank you to the anonymous gift-giver who sent me one of my Amazon Wishlist books! Wow! Who are you? All of these things are very comforting, because I live in constant fear that I am going to die alone and no one will know who I am and won't be able to identify me. I'll end up in an ashtray down at the morgue like these unloved, unclaimed, ghosts:

acertainkindofdeath

On that note Merry Christmas! Next year I'm going home to be with my family. So here it is, the most boring Christmas in the world. Enjoy...

Christmas Eve day I went uptown for a walk in Central Park.

Item! Its beautiful up there anytime of year.

Guess what this is? An arcade in Shibuya? The Space Mountain line at Disneyworld? A super hi-tech neon entrance to a futuristic McDonalds that was clearly designed in 1990 in Midtown Manhattan? You decide.

Next I went to Dashwood books on Bond St which is my guilty pleasure. I bought the Dash Snow book, a Terry Richardson scary clown puzzle, and the new Peter Sutherland Buckshots book. My mission to buy overpriced local art books and collectible media from every LES persona is complete. Total cost: $276. But I know that someday my future kids will appreciate it when they're teenagers. I called Justin in a guilt-induced panic but he said that books are his one vice and that no spending limits should be imposed upon book purchases.

I justified all of this with the fact that the owner went downstairs into the vaults and emerged with a book he said cost $12,000. This effort was for a customer who claimed to be Robert Duffy's assistant (a major LVMH Honcho). Apparently 'Bob' was buying a gift for Marc Jacobs. The owner said to the guy 'I showed this to Bruce (as in Weber) and he actually mentioned that he thought Marc (as in Jacobs) would like this.' The owner is on a first name basis with the New York fashion mafia? I always wondered how a bookstore could survive on Bond Street. Now I know. He sells books worth more than adopted babies.

I'm about to get to my boring Christmas story, but first a little flashback to a Christmas I spent in California with David. Do NOT go to LA for the holidays if you can avoid it. It sucks. Why Aviva? You may ask. Because first of all it looks like this pile of shit:

What are we carnies? This looks like a County Fair but its really The Grove on Fairfax.

Secondly, there are half-naked gays everywhere. David eye-molested this one under the guise of being "comedic." Neither Christian nor Jesus-like.

Oysters just days before Christmas? In the hot sun? With hot sauce? Does this give you holiday cheer? No, it does not. LA is a Christmas-spirit bandit. Christmas in LA feels like hanging out with a loud, overweight Raiders fan who farts on you while talking about the stripper he blazed at Malone's the night before. Christmas up North, however, feels like winning Jeopardy while Alex Trebeck massages your feet.

And now for the most boring Christmas of all time!!!

The evening of Christmas Eve I met Jeremy and Danika at this chocolate restaurant that serves chocolate meals. Like chocolate pizza and chocolate soup and chocolate everything. You can see in this picture from their bored expressions that their sentiments are merely foreshadowing the level of boredom we were unknowingly about to encounter the very next day...

"Chocolate Fondue: A 1950's Ideal with a Millennial Presentation" I should be a copywriter. I'd make Ogilvy & Mathers millions. Snazzy slogans galore! God I'm bored just writing this.

On Christmas day I went to their house for some waffles and champagne and then headed over to my cousin's house to walk his dog Ollie and get some Chinese. This is David's doorman Eddy who did this elaborate and beautiful Christmas display in the lobby that gave me warm holiday cheer. BORED YET???

We all went out for some Chinese. A classic Jewish tradition on Christmas, usually followed by a movie...

OMG look how bored MZ and Danika are.

Todd Barry came too. He was super bored. We talked about how boring Facebook is.

Jeremy's super bored. It was so boring. Beyond. Netherworld boring.

David telling us a boring story. Psych! He was funny of course. That's what he gets the big bucks for.

We ended the night with an unfestive beer at David's local spot 2A. Lesley Arfin came to meet us. She walked in and immediately got bored, poor thing. Everyone who came within a foot of us that night automatically glazed over with boredom, including the bartender and the patrons. The only unboring part of my Christmas was the food. David picked the most DELICIOUS family-style Chinese restaurant. I'm taking my Dinner Club there next time we roll. Believe it or not, it was on St. Marks Place, the Melrose Ave of New York. Grand Sezchwan.

Well here's to you, Most Boring Christmas Ever. I hope I never see you again.

Pfffftttt.
Aviva

J.A.P. day

Every year I go up to 5th Avenue and take pictures of the Bergdorf Goodman windows. Its my only tradition. Tasha and I were supposed to go on a Taco Crawl with Athena, but the plans got screwed up so we opted for Fifth Ave. I'm Jewish but I looooove me some Christmas time in New York. I start getting all jazzed up about it right before Thanksgiving.

Dear Global Warming Initiative,

Don't want to be a pill, but we're just gonna suck up ridiculous amounts of energy for the next month so we can be the prettiest, most well-lighted City in the Nation. Also, fuck you hippies.

Love,

Manhattan

Check out my killer pair of Penny Loafers! They're fuckin AWS. What? You think they're corny? Well that's because you can't see the blue wood ducks embroidered where the pennies are supposed to go. According to my copy of the Preppy Handbook this is the ultimate must-have for any White Anglo-Saxon Person.

Not too Christian of me, but I got in a fight with this asshole. Yes, its crazy to engage street hustlers, but he made me SO mad. I took the unposed, candid photo you see here and he followed me SCREAMING to give him some money. I give him a dollar, he grabs the money out of my hand, calls me a fucking bitch, and tells me he's starving. Um, excuse me? You're starving?

Let's look at the facts shall we?

1) You're wearing crispy, white Yohji Yamamoto-looking hi-tops in pristine condition. Even if they're from Kmart, they're clean and new. Not the shoes of a starving person.

2) Your cats are eating Fancy Feast (no joke) in his-and-her matching cable-knit sweaters.

3) Your Hello Kitty garbage pail is filled to the brim with cash. NOT a cheap item. I looked it up, and even on eBay, mini trash cans with that Japanese feline on them start at $24. and range up to $40. USED.

4) To your left (not pictured) is your cute blond girlfriend sipping a Starbucks latte and jingling a bell. Behind you is a not-too-shabby contraption that wheels your cats, carpets, and sort of hi-tech backpack home, to your apartment.

You're not starving bro. Which is exactly what I said to him. I looked him right in the eye and calmly told him he was full of shit. He went BONKERS. Stupid lying asshole. I don't care how he is getting his money, but please don't buy and train animals to shamelessly manipulate thousands of people and then act like a pious do-gooder. I am STILL mad about this by the way.

Rockefeller Center was a wee tad crowded. I can't get into it, but trying to see the ice skaters made me want to stab.

Moving along...We went to Trump Plaza to grab a coffee at Starbucks. It only took 40 minutes, no bigs. Seems stupid, but after 15 minutes in that line we were so deep in the shit we were scared to get out of line and have to start over somewhere else. Just getting one block down Fifth Ave after Black Friday is a ten minute ordeal. You can lose a scarf or a kid in that mess. LOTS of big butts everywhere, by the way. Achtung!

We finally made it to Bergdorfs, the most beautiful store in America. The tea room/restaurant upstairs was filled with tiny white ladies and older men with straight backs wearing Sperrys. The only reason I'm showing you this is because of those super neato yellow egg-shaped seats over there in the back. How cute is it to sit there and look out at all the people below and eat your tiny sandwiches?

Naomi Campbell and ZZ Top Matryoshka dolls near Central Park.

FAO Schwartz is berzerk this time of year. I tried moonwalking on the giant piano keys from that movie BIG once, but there was a line about 200 deep.

Paris Hilton Barbie. I'll spare you making a Paris joke here. That's about as cliche as it gets. Britney and Lindsay jokes are out too, please make a note.

Weird gay sex slave Ken? Mkayyyyy...

Back to Rockefeller Center:

We finally made it to Bergdorfs to see the windows! Unfortunately my pictures didn't come out well, so I'm posting my pictures from last Christmas. I'm pretty sure at this point if you're still reading you're either:

a) A chick.

b) You're a guy, but you're super bored by now and have thought about clicking away from this chick entry ever since the bum fight/cat ordeal.

c) You're a guy who is thanking your mom that you weren't born with a vagina.

d) You used to be a guy up until now, but I've managed to turn you gay. You can leave your penis on the counter since you won't be needing it anymore*

Anyhow, it takes a year to plan and a team of prop stylists, Opera set and fashion designers to bring us these gems. Voila!

After the windows we went to Grand Central to have Oysters and beer. This is another one of my favorite things to do. I suggest eating at the bar and watching the professionals their make their chowders and stews. Definitely get the Oysters Rockefeller, since it's their specialty.

This is a lobster meat sandwich... on a hot dog bun! How rebellious of you, you seafood wizards! This was fuggin de-lee-chers!

Next entry: My Boring Christmas

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY!

Love, Aviva

Holiday Party Time!

Nick and Chrissie had a Christmas party. Yours truly got the food and hired a very special guest host and my favorite favorite favey fave, Christmas Tree Mom (my YouTube obsession) to host the tree trimming!

http://youtube.com/watch?v=RTs5eKZ0i1E

Please buy tickets to see The Virgins on NYE at Mercury Lounge if you haven't already. CTM is opening for them! What's that? Oh, you're WELCOME world! No really, its no skin off my nose. Whats that, sweetie? You're going to Lit to the HUGS party first to visit me, Andrew Kuo and Wildman? Wait... what? Oh. You got tickets to see Paul Oakenfold and that sizzling new Belgian DJ who likes to MC on the mic over your favorite hi-NRG dance jams. Ooookkkkeeeeyyyy. Oh well sweetie, there's always next year. Me? Oh I don't care about NYE like you do. But thats so cute how you picked out a new outfit for the occasion! I DO hope you meet someone special. Sooomebody deserves to see you in that snazzy new 2xist International Male V-Neck you picked up at Century 21. You did? Wow. I didn't know they still made Drakkar Noir. Well I'm sure it smells good on you, dear. Anyhoo, enjoy your New Year. I'm just gonna get back to this fabulous Christmas party I attended the other night. Ciao!

I looove Citarella. They make Dean & Deluca look like the fat friend. They have all this specialty, hard to find stuff like sea urchins! Weird!

I stuck to the traditional Holiday glazed ham and selected fine cheeses and whatnot.

A very special guest entered the party: Christmas Tree Mom!!!

Chrissie got all flushed and fanned out. Zack Attack!

A photo shoot by the tree ensued.

Jen and Lesley

Jen Brill again, Mel, and Rafael

Alex Burns

Veevers and MZ (Michelle)

I don't know who this is, but he was really funny. Who is that Chrissie?

Drea (their upstairs neighbor)

Best photo by the tree award!

Ian

WHO WANTS BAILEYS?

Nick, my little Jewish little angel. He wrote a very special song about me called "Stupeed Beetch." Three chords. Idnat sweet y'all? Theenks Nick! You're the best.

I'm a big fan of Hilary! If you look closely you can see the hair standing up on my arm. That's because of Hilary's story about how she was on a deserted beach somewhere in Vermont and a huge family of crisp white people in matching white turtlenecks and jeans, windswept hair, blue eyes and smiles, came walking down the beach toward her while a photographer snapped them backwards, everyone laughing and carefree. Grandparents, mom and dad, teenagers, tweens, little kids, and babies alike. All in one glorious, shiny, Christian presentation. I'm getting Jew chills just thinking of it.

Anyhow, it was a fun party. People had CTM sign their bottles of Baileys! Are you feeling the love? Christmas Tree Mom sure was, surely for sure. Fershaw. Fersh.

-V