So hey. It's Tuesday at 9-someodd AM. I apologize for a whole blogless Monday having gone by, but work yesterday was like looking into the mouth of the beast. And it was cold. Oh, so cold. Not once but twice yesterday did I cry out on the street from the pain of the cold. Luckily, though, my office is Guadalahara in July. So I'm all set.
This past weekend was a full one. What follows is a blow-by-blow (so to speak):
FRIDAY: Get off work. Meet Mike on 37th Street to see Ladystein's holiday window installation to titilate the five senses. Grow so feverishly cold while watching the window that I shriek Mike, Maria, and Alana's sister and brother-in-law into getting coffee with me. Go to Hansson's. Drink massive quantities of vodka in a very short period of time. Eat spicy Italian meats. Hug Kate Sullivan a lot. Laugh while Kate makes jokes about boobs. Rub Jake's head a lot, because I love her. Take a series of pictures that flatter Mike & Kate while making me look like some fashion of hooptie. Hear Matt Wiegle say, "The olive platter is free. ROCK!" Depart Hansson's with Mike and Reza Jacobs to hit up the Shebeen. I last maybe... 4 minutes in the Shebeen before I stagger home drunk to bed myself, while Mike & Reza have several heart to hearts.
SATURDAY: I wake up, POWERFUL hurting, partly from too much drink but largely from Hansson's spicy meats. No one can appreciate quite how much my insides hurt, so Mike and I go to brunch (after having a dance party and greeting Laurel Jacobsen and Kate's mom). We go to brunch. Mike and I pick up sundries. I prepare foodstuffs. We kind of just chill out and maybe take naps, I'm not really sure. I make him watch the Scissor Sisters from last week's SNL. We go to see Ladystein play. They rock hard. I videotape them. We return to 244 East 21st Street to continue the rocking. Mike stops the party cold by screaming "I AM DIANA ROSS" at the top of his lungs, followed by a barely audible Hansson with, "Wait. He's who?" Much pot is smoked on our roof. Do much stepping into Christmas. Receive call from Joe; he introduces the phrase of the evening-- "jazz cordials." People light sparklers that Katie McGrath brought; Mike can only describe my face as "Nervous Nellie." People leave. Fall asleep after trying for about an hour to harmonize with Mike on songs ranging from "Hard Candy Christmas" to Aimee Mann's "Fourth of July."
SUNDAY: Wake. Berate Mike (who redefines grumpypants), saying "If we don't get brunch right now, we'll NEVER make it to a 2:00 Life Aquatic!!" Get to The Life Aquatic about 45 minutes early (heh heh). It's even more magical the second time (SIDEBAR: That Janis Ian song- "Here's To You"- is one of the eeriest songs ever written). Exit the movie theatre, screaming at each other in full voice about whether or not Anjelica Huston can be categorized as a "great beauty." In the cab, we discover that we've an extra Scissor Sisters ticket. ROCK! Mike, myself, Princess, and Kate descend upon the Hammerstein for a 6:30 Scissor Sisters. Wait for them to come on... which happens at 9:30 (following two BRILLIANT DJ's and an OK Asian trannie band). Behold the band's silhouette behind a scrim while Dolly Parton's "Baby, I'm Burning" plays over the speakers. Rocking commences. Best concert ever. It ends with the stage covered in screaming, girating, sticker-tossing trannies. Magic.
Too much work to do now to properly finish this, so I'll just say that the weather is cold, but Leigh Somerville is colder.
ME :-)
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