It always tickles me how RUSSH has me doing a column called Notes From NYC, because sometimes I feel like I don’t even belong in this city. Sometimes I fantasize about moving to Miami Beach with a pickup truck, a golden retriever with a red bandana tied around it’s neck, some cut off shorts and a few lottery tickets. That would make for a cute fashion story, but in reality it would probably be pretty depressing. Then I think about moving to LA. I’d drive a convertible, drink a soy latte from the Coffee Bean, and talk on my cell phone. In my fantasy I’d always be realllly busy out there, but my daily meditation would help keep me even-keeled. Alas, I am still a New Yorker. It’s a competitive city and sometimes it’s hard not get jealous of other people. From the outside my life might seem fabulous and/or exciting, and sometimes it is, but sometimes that excitement comes in the form of having made the perfect lasagna rather than a quick weekend jaunt to the Hamptons or going to some dumb movie premiere.  I live downtown and most of my exciting nights take place when I’m at home with my boyfriend Machine although sometimes, we need to step out. Here’s where we go:
1.    Lit: Lit is a dirty, stinky, sticky hole of a club where the music is piercing and the air is thick with grossness. You can spend hours picking out your outfit, which is a waste of time if you’re going to Lit, because no one will care or remember what you wore anyway. I used to frequent Lit much more when I was younger, but these days it seems overrun with NYU kids from LA who are trying to slum it, but really have super rich parents. One time I saw a whole table of Vogue staffers sitting around, looking uncomfortable, and that made me smile. For all its stinky grossness, we need Lit to be just what it is. It’s a good go to spot for late night shenanigans.
2.    Marion's: Machine doesn’t like going to Marion’s anymore which is weird because he gets to drink for free and his friends are the ones that throw the Saturday night party, but I kind of understand. The music is good but aside from the friend-free drink factor, it’s full of normies and d-bags. If more people danced it might be fun, but the ‘tudes are sometimes too cool for dancing. Still, it’s close to my house and Saturdays are usually an off night so sometimes I end up there. The bathroom lady sells lollipops.
3.    Santos: Here’s the thing about Santos: it’s awkward. The layout is set up in a way that I never know where to stand or what to do. It’s a great place to see bands play or fully dance, like all fucking night, really hard, but I haven’t been in the mood to do that in a while and when I do, I go to Dance Class (see #4). I have a lot of love for Santos because my friend Spencer owns it, and they do a really good job of being a big ass, cool spot that’s not too cool. On any given night there is different shit going on, with a whole different scene. It’s not elitist or exclusive; it’s literally a party house. That’s why it’s called “Santos Party House.”
4.    Dance Class: Pussy partygoers need not apply to this black hole of a face-off. Dance Class is a Thursday night party located at a place called The Studio, which is the underground part of Webster Hall. Webster Hall has the awful reputation of catering to scum-of-the-Earth bridge and tunnel folk (people who come in from Long Island and New Jersey.) At Dance Class there will usually be a fight, some chick that gets groped, and a lot of ill-fitting party tops, but on Thursdays this dj who goes by the name Dances With White Girls dj’s, and he is mind blowing. It’s impossible not to bug the fuck out, just make sure you don’t make eye contact with anyone, male of female, because you will definitely get raped.
5.    Above Allen: One of my favorite DJ’s , Jonny Famous, spins at the Thompson Hotel on Wednesdays. This party will really take off when it gets super hot out (like next week for us, sorry Aussies) because the entire roof comes off and it’s like being inside-outside. The crowd is kind of downtown metro-sexual but if you’re with your friends and the 'tudes are good, it can be fun. I’m not entirely sold on Above Allen yet but it has potential.
6.    Club Chrissie: My friend Chrissie Miller has an apartment on 2nd ave that’s huge. She lives with Donald and Nick from The Virgins but they’re never there, so Chrissie runs it, and she runs it tough. It’s the best pre-game/after hours spot downtown. Very VIP. We’ve been known to chain smoke, gossip, giggle, take our clothes off and dance and make videos, talk about life, order food, have guitar sing-a-longs, and watch TV. I usually prefer to pre game at CC, go home, then go back to CC, but that’s just my style. The fact that I don’t drink might have something to do with it.
7.    Apartment #5J: 5J is the boyfriend version of Club Chrissie. DJ Jonny Famous lives there with his brother, EB (he’s in the band Blood Street, they rule) and usually on Saturday nights when we hate on Marion’s, we kick it at 5J. There are always a million laughs, someone always spills something on the couch, and the TV is really big. When Jonny forgets to play his cable bill, we play cards and talk shit.
8.    West Side Weird Spot: I haven’t been here yet, but Machine told me it was like a secret dungeon that leads into a huge ass room, and there was an empty swimming pool in which a lady got inside of and starting singing Opera. This is where I wanna be.
9.    Sway: Ben Cho still throws his Smiths night at Sway on Sundays, but I don’t go anymore. The kids like it. I’m sure it’s still awesome. (I’m running out of stuff to say, can you tell?)
10.     My Bed: This is usually where I’m happy. I have Ralph Lauren sheets, a summer comforter, and a nice cotton throw from India. I have cats, Spooky and Champ. I have a decent TV and cable and a big ass boyfriend that likes to snugs. I have scented candles, a Netflix account, and lots of snacks. See? I’m lame. I like smoking and snuggling. The places I go when I hit the streets are usually just road stops that eventually take me back to where I really want to be, which is my bed. I’m neither lazy nor depressed; I just like doing things in bed. I like writing, reading, talking, and making up jokes. In bed. So that’s the coolest “club” in my opinion. If you come to New York, hit up those other spots. Don’t call me though. My bed is too exclusive. Sowwiee. Sweet dreams!