Take That!
06-01-08 | 16:40

I woke up at ten o’clock this morning, realized that it was utterly impossible to stay awake and promptly fell asleep. Waking up at two o’clock however, was too late for me. I feel dizy and groggy, my body clock is out of sorts because it is now four o’clock and I feel like it ought to be noon.
The party yesterday was a bust. My father, who always seems to have a good time when family is involved said “You know, I’m not going to mince words - this party is awful.” And it was. Not many of my family showed up and my younger cousin - the one for whom the party was - was busy dancing on the dance floor with all her chubby frumpy girl friends. PB and I discussed who we felt bad for - the forty-five year old DJ from Dyker Heights who wasted his life and now has to get on the dance floor and dance the YMCA to twelve college girls whilst the entire room looks on him with a mixture of disgust and pity or the fifteen year old acne ridden busboy who is so sloppy and clumsy that he almost burns you when he backhands you your cup of coffee. I felt bad for the old DJ because the fifteen year old was just working there for the summer and eventually his acne would clear up, but PB felt bad for the fifteen year old because the old DJ wasted his life and now dances in front of people. The food was, as presumed it would be, just awful. We left the party after the cake had been brought out and took a nap on my sofa.
Since PB wasn’t feeling well he went home and I met my old pals - R & M for a movie. Just like old times - the three of us were like peas in a pod. R was my best friend in high-school and M was her boyfriend and the three of us got along so well and always hung out together, it was never like R& M and me it was more like R & M & V.
That being said, we went to see a movie but walked out an hour into it because it was also awful - theme of the day? - we strolled around soho looking for a place to have a drink and decided on this small bar on Mercer. R stayed outside to smoke a cigarette so M and I walked in and I placed my umbrella on the two free barstools and we were going to wait for R to come in before we ordered drinks but the bartender had other plans. As I placed my umbrella across the stools and M sat by the window the bartender walked up to our side of the bar and with his hands spread across the bar and his upper body leaning forward, a look of “well I’ll be dammed” on his face stood there waiting to take our drink order. I looked at him and said, “We’re just waiting for our friend.”, “Why?” he said. At this point I decide to not talk to him anymore because what kind of a question is that? M answers, “Because she’s our friend.”, “Why?” was the response from the derisive bartender and M responded, “Because we like her.” This went on for about another thirty seconds until I looked at M and said “Let’s go.” and we left. What the fuck was the all about? Honestly, was he insane, did we look underage? Maybe he just didn’t like the casual confidence that M exudes? In all my underage and above age drinking at dive bars and hotel bars and clubs I have never had an experience with a bartender such as that. Still thirsty for a drink we continue to walk down Mercer where we pass Bar 89 and I tell them about the multi-colored frosted bathroom doors and how my brother took me to eat a burger there back in 2000 when the world was perfect and the start-up bubble had yet to burst. At the mention of frosted bathroom doors R decided that she had to see them so we end up having a drink or two there and hang out in the bathroom and look at the frosted doors.
Then we decide to go to Little Branch, but by this time it was so late that there was a line out the door and us being R & M & V decided that nothing is worth waiting on line for and decided to get some beers and go back to my place since we were three blocks away. Hanging out at my place, drinking and eating pirate’s booty until two o’clock in the morning. We all had a blast and I got to throw my drink in M’s face! Earlier that night he said something to R to which she responded “Do you want a slap in the face?” and I immediately volunteered to slap M in the face and he immediately promised to slap something slap worthy to me during the course of the night. Well a few hours later M was being generally annoying and tossing the curtain cord in my general direction and somewhat instigating me, so instead of a slap I deiced to toss my grappa in his face. Oh man was that satisfying. I suggest to anyone reading that you throw a drink in someone’s face immediately. He was so shocked that he didn’t move and R just sat there, mouth gaping. Props to me.
After they left I cleaned up some and then went to bed with both bedroom windows open to get some cool breezes going. One window at the foot of the bed, one window to my left - ahh the joy of having a corner apartment. Then I woke up at this crazy late hour and started to read the Sunday Times which I picked up last night when the three of us got beer.
PB called me, he woke up late too - he had to sleep off his cold - and we have this karaoke thing to go to tonight and I have no idea how I’m going to pull myself together to go.

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Don't drink the water
05-31-08 | 00:01

I am so tired, it is a blessing and a curse to require ten hours of sleep each night. I don’t quite remember what I did Wednesday night, maybe I saw PB? I don’t quite remember. Tomorrow is my younger cousin’s college graduation party at Sirico’s one of tose scary catering places in Brooklyn where you just know that you’re going to be served a penne pasta with vodka sauce and your choice of chicken, fish or meat. Never lamb or steak - just meant and the fish is always fried and the vodka sauce comes from cans and if you are at the catering hall early enough you can see a Sysco truck parked outside making a delivery.
At least PB is coming with me. Now I must ask myself - how utterly tacky is it to have a college graduation party at a wedding hall? Ahh, the tackiness that is embedded in my DNA. How am I going to survive this? Where the vodka is crappy and the wine choices are, “We have red or white”. Oh sweet jesus, and the bread will be hard as rocks, “fresh” from the Sysco truck this morning. And my Mother will be bored and I’ll have to entertain her and my Father will tell the same stories over and over again.
I have a blemish on my nose and it is making me sad. I’ve got my period and I am in pain. This awful entry has deteriorated into a stream of consciousness or lack there of as I am so tired.
Esther is coming tomorrow morning at ten for my manicure and pedicure and then I’ll have to get ready as the party starts at one thirty and I have errands to do beforehand. I have to take my jeans to the tailor and have them hemmed a bit more and then I must have a tear in a dress of mine repaired.
Such is my fabulous life. Not.

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