The suburbs are weird

I hung out with some high school friends on Thursday night. One of them is engaged and going back to Costa Rica before returning to New York to start grad school at Columbia, one just got promoted at her job and is moving to Boston, one just finished grad school at NYU and is soon leaving for Japan to do the JET Programme, one is preparing her artwork for some Soho gallery whose show will be reviewed by the Times, and I managed (with much effort) to not eat the chocolate doughnut at work that afternoon.

So we went to some bar in Nyack (my second time there ever, much to the shock of my friends... which is ironic because you'd think I'd have gone with them before) to sing some karaoke. Man. White karaoke is so weird (no big-screen TV's in private rooms?). Actually, suburban bars in general are just weird. Deejays are bespectacled sexagenarians, gay guys are still totally in the closet, and there is actually space in which to walk around without spilling your drink on somebody.

But yeah. What a completely different world. I didn't really notice because I only existed there in a bubble with my friends, usually in private homes because we minority folk were run out of public space awhile back... although it looks like we might be getting accepted. Two of my friends and I made up about 1/3 the non-white contingent there. Nice.

Highlights of the night:

1. Being told that I have the lowest speaking voice ever

2. Having suggested to me that I should "judo chop" those who get on my nerves (thank you, townie)