Monday, June 9, 2008

95 degree ♥'n

Welcome to New York in the summer time, you will die here.

Aside from baking both inside and outside of my Brooklyn apartment on Sunday, I was also trapped via swelled-front-door. I frantically called D, as if he could do anything all the way from Texas. Well, this is why I love the man...he fixed it.

"Just try hitting the door a little with your shoulder, and jam it loose." Was his suggestion, then he back-peddled, "On second thought maybe you shouldn't....you might hurt yourself." Of course although he said this with a little bit of laughter in his voice, he was mostly serious. I'm sure the idea of his "Boogie" laying helpless on the floor with a dislocated shoulder didn't appeal to him at all. So I opted to kick it, and after several tries the door came open easily and I could finally escape. To buy Popsicles and a hamburger. And the ONLY reason I spent $4 on something I could have made myself is because the idea of heating up the apartment anymore than it already was by using the stove, just didn't fly.

Later that night I took a mildly cold shower and wet my sheets by air drying on my bed. I didn't care. And to the light of my CD player placing a cool blue glow over my bedroom, and the sounds of summer rain outside I went to sleep last night quite peacefully.

Friday night I went out with some friends to The Gallery Bar in Manhattan. It was a swanky little spot to say the least, cushy seats and sofas, coffee tables. The walls were decked out with art for sale by Purvis Young, who's take on the concept of "Big Brother" was pretty out there. There was actually an actress hired to sit in a little loft above all of us about 5 feet off the ground. She sat with one of Young's paintings hung behind her reading books, and checking email on a Apple MacBook, all to show the idea that we are always being watched. It was pretty strange but after a while I forgot she was even there. I had two drinks, and danced a little bit. I met Brian Wood, who was the birthday boy. He's an amazing urban designer (http://www.brianwoodonline.com/) and also a cool ass guy. I mingled with Brian's sister, and Xsavier and Dave and Mike and met probably the most attractive and trendy mortgage broker I've ever seen, at which point I came to the realization that all these people were pretty much around the same age as me. Which made me feel really cool, then super old, then pretty content. Somewhere during the evening I challenged Skinny D (Dave) to a karaoke match, insisting (while waving a half-full martini glass) that I can do a damn good "Mariah Carey" which is a pretty outstanding lie. I mean, come on...NO ONE can karaoke to Mariah Carey, the woman is mad with those octaves.

Saturday however, if I may jump around, was the best day of all. I woke up around 11 am, without hangover to the first blazing hot day of the summer. I immediately shut my drapes over the light (which didn't do much since they are really light weight drapes from Target). As soon as I laid back down and tried to shut my eyes I remembered that D was buying his house today in Houston. I knew he was probably nervous and all tight and quiet like he gets when he's anxious. So I picked up my cell phone and texted him:

"Good luck with the house today sweetie. I wish it were 'our house' I can't even lie. I'm proud of you." Great, I thought after I'd already pushed SEND, now he's nervous and annoyed. I threw my cell phone to the end of my bed and plopped back down onto my pillows. Bringing my hand to my face I smacked my forehead and rolled over. Maybe he wouldn't check it. Just then my cell phone buzzed and beeped. Text message. I was sure he was going to say something vague and pleasant, like, "Thanks Boogie. Call you later." But when I checked it, my face became one huge smile with lips stretching from ear to ear and teeth gleaming in the daylight.

"Thanks for the support Boogie. There's a good chance this could be our house which is why it's so big."

A thousand thoughts flooded my brain. Immediately I imagined our entire lives over the next 5, then 10, then 20 years. I became riddled with enthusiasm as women tend to do in these kinds of situations. "Our House" he said. I was awake after that. Wide, wide, wide awake.

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