Funny how a benignly mediocre day can seem horribly awful when preceded by four or five truly awesome days.
Truth is I really did need a night to myself. My apartment was a pig sty, my laundry needed doing, my blog needed updating. And there's a Hills premiere to watch!
Weds night after a kind of stressful workday (ok, it was really stressful, and deserves its own post, someday when I feel like retelling it), I ended up meeting S&M at happy hour in his work hood. He and his buddy Jon were sucking down cocktails like they were going out of style, and I had a lot of catching up to do.
Several vodka tonics later, I sure as fuck was caught up, and proceeded to smoke all of S&M's cigarettes, and hit on the bartender, who it turned out was born in 1986. Fuck. Me. I had never felt like SUCH a dirty old lady as I did at that moment...well ok, that's sort of a lie, but either way, IT FELT SO WRONG! So for the rest of the night I called him Little Baby and left it at that. Hot or no, 22 is just, WRONG.
All the while, was receiving invitations via text from several others-a pool party in the East Village, relocated Media Meshing at Tom and Jerry, more drinks with Drunk Brunch and co at another East Village location...I was weighing my options when S&M and I realized that we were too drunk for life, and needed to go home. I was tempted to crash at S&M's for the night, but of course, I had another idea up my sleeve....which came into fruition later in the night, and well into the morning. ;)
Rainy lazy Thursday was my sister's birthday, and I found myself at the Boat Basin enjoying some Electric Lemonade. That shit is ridiculous, by the way, because it's like drinking slush puppies but with vodka, and 2 are pretty much lethal. So needless to say, when I finally found myself home, I crashed like a little baby on crack.
Friday I got drunk with my family at Turkish Kitchen, then met Lesty and her beau back at my place for a bottle of wine, Freaks and Geeks, and when the wine ran out, root beer and brandy cocktails. Don't knock it til you try it-they actually weren't that bad. At least, no one was complaining!
Another super late night with a repeat performance from super late night caller and super fun activities-my couch hasn't seen that much action since my cat stopped humping his blankie-and then it was Saturday.
Saturday was a girly day spent with Wins. Naam Yoga, brunch, Billys cupcakes, shopping, pedicures, and Vicky Christina Barcelona which was absolutely one of the best movies I've seen all year, no shit. Penelope Cruz was incredible, as was Javier Bardem and really every single person that appeared in it was flawless. I LOVED it. Although, I admit, due to the previous night's activities, I may or may not have fallen asleep in the last 10 minutes of the movie. And I may or may not have been snoring. Oops.
Thankful for the nap, I had to hightail it back to Brooklyn to meet up with a friend at Franklin Park for a few too many Original Sins and Chevellas takeout. Tried to keep it early as on Sunday I piled into Kristen's car with Ha Ha Sound and my sister for a day in the Catskills, tubing down the Esopus Creek. I have done this a good handful of times in my life, and it's always awesome to see a new person's reaction when going down that crazy creek in an inner tube for the first time.
There was a very dramatic saving of Kristen's tube by HHS. I watched in horror as she flipped, got caught in the current, and her tube started to drift away. I wanted to be the hero of the day so I jumped out of my tube and dragged it to the side of the creek in the hopes that I would be able to catch hers, but I sadly watched it continue down the river. HHS jumped out of his tube like he was saving a life, and somehow managed to snatch her tube up in one quick movement, and got himself and both tubes safely to shore. Craziness!!
I was feeling all sorts of cocky as by close to the end of the run I was the only one of the four of us that hadn't flipped...and just as I was about to gloat, I hit a gigantic rock and FLIP. Right over. Tube over my head. Knee bashed into a rock. Holy fucking ow.
HHS suggested that we head over to an amazing little pizza place called Winchells, which we did, gladly. A couple glasses of wine helped ease the pain of my bloated knee, but the true panacea was definitely the Gelato place we hit up a few miles down the road. A medium cup of Tiramisu and Pistachio gelato hit the spot, and for a split second I definitely remember thinking that I wanted to stay in the Catskills pretty much forever.
So as you can see, my very eventful last few days are making this very dull, nothing day seem like hell on earth. But the Hills are on now. So I'm out. ;)