Sugarzine : Nightlife

	Random Magnet: Weather Limbo By Candice Holmes New York in the final throes of winter is no one’s friend. You find that after making it through the worst of the cold, having buckled down to try and keep your social life together, that it seems like most of the people around you have gone into hibernation. You try to weather it all, naively feeling that this limbo is a test to see how much of a real party person you can be. The most important thing you learn is that even the most hardcore have to let it all go for a while. Everyone is taking a rest, united to countdown the days until new life is pumped back into the scene.
...to blur the lines between the haves and have-nots with a certain accessory, overheard piece of gossip, or simply by being in the right place at the right time.	My first winter back in town started off well. My four-year college hiatus allowed a sullen homebody tomboy to reemerge as a disciple of music and the nightlife with her ear to the ground for new things. I love New York because the pulse of the city is the chameleon aspect of its citizens, able to blur the lines between the haves and have-nots with a certain accessory, overheard piece of gossip, or simply by being in the right place at the right time. New York breeds reinvention. On my return, I felt fresh faced and clueless on the inside, yet confidently running towards the world of last calls, secret gatherings on side streets, and keeping it moving until dawn. Switching it up was a way of life. I went from LES warrior to Williamsburg art junkie to Chelsea/Meatpacking District social butterfly to some strange hodgepodge of all three plus other area strains. I was riding the summer momentum for all it was worth.
I braved my way through the snows of January and February with stiletto boots, determined not to let a little bad weather get me down.	I heard a joke in November at a TV show taping that said single people are out in full force between Thanksgiving and Valentine’s Day, when they’d disappear again into their couple cocoons. I’ve discovered that New York nightlife has equivalent highs and lows. Between February and May is the social equivalent of hurricane season. There might be things going on trying to drag you out to the shore of sociability, but many choose the option of keeping themselves safe from the cold and boredom to be found outside. I noticed as the New Year crept in that people started dropping off like flies. At first, I laughed and clung to the remnants of vibrancy in the air. I braved my way through the snows of January and February with stiletto boots, determined not to let a little bad weather get me down. I had carved out my niche over the months and had my go-to spots where I could hang out and have a good time. One was APT, the sleek lounge in the Meatpacking District. I could always be found in the glowing wood basement with my signature drink of port in hand, taking in the latest in electronic and dance music. My other house bar was the small and comfortable Sapphire Lounge on the Lower East Side, where I could hang out with the other regulars and chat and dance a little on a Thursday night to old school and hip-hop. I struck up friendships with the bartenders and bouncers due to my almost steady presence around the place and fell into comfort zones.
The unthinkable happened – even open bar events couldn’t keep me interested.	As February dawned, I noticed a change in the air. Places that were always packed began to lose steam and even I found my intrepid nature considerably tamed. The tail end of winter sent us all into a lull. I found myself shifting from the hardcore dancer in the middle of the floor to holding up the wall and looking into the crowd, critically. I was on edge, watching, waiting for something, anything that never seemed to be there. I felt like I forgot how to have fun and would end my nights sullen and annoyed. The unthinkable happened – even open bar events couldn’t keep me interested. March found me more often than not opting against even my home bases, just jaded with everything out there.
	As the weather begins to pop and I’m able to leave the three layers and heavy coats behind, I find myself walking around town looking for signs of life. I’ve gone back to my early summer days of starting at a point and going in one direction until I find something of interest. I’m reclaiming being an explorer, filling in my mental city map with new spots. I’ve newly discovered Tupelo in Astoria and Bar 169 in Chinatown, loving the dark yet welcoming neighborhood atmospheres. I let go of my club annoyance and embraced Marquee and Plaid, both which manage to be hip while still socially mixed and lively. I’m still opting for some quiet nights at home to recharge my batteries, which also improved my mood. I’m beginning to see people I haven’t seen in months, newly rested and tackling going out with new energy. It’s time to run with the pack again. Spring is here.