4 More Days!!!!

In 4 days I'll be surrounded again by those I love the most!

♥

BTW: My Thanksgiving Was Awesome

So aside from just the stretched out weekend, I got an excuse (as if I need one..) to eat like a total glutton. My room mate, Monica and I went to Sylvia's in Harlem for dinner.

When we got there it was so packed that a lady standing near us started complaining about the capacity. "You know she got to many people up in here..." She scoffed, referring to Ms. Sylvia herself as if she alone was responsible for the weight of the room. Although, Sylvia can often be found sitting near the bar in her famous restaurant greeting guests and chatting up the bartender, I doubted she was there that night. Monica and I humored the lady and started up a whole conversation that somehow led to me and D. The lady's unsolicited advice went something like this, " Well, if he ever puts his hands on you..." I shut off all hearing valves after that one. (For some reason that's the third person to give me advice about D beating me senseless....not only do they have the wrong guy, it's proof that not many people in my life know my history with men...) Eventually, the warrior against domestic violence and her husband were seated and all in all she was extremely nice to talk to...

Twenty minutes later we sat down, ordered and received:

Afterwards we took the train back downtown and went to West 4th to a lounge called The Fat Black Pussy Cat, which when referenced incorrectly can come out sounding pretty raunchy...

After stiff drinks and posing with the random antique furniture, we stopped at a sex store to browse for "holiday gifts" for our respective boyfriends. We got home in time to enjoy the caramel and marshmallow covered brownies I got from the cafe at work for us, and hit the sack with full tummies and a Long Island Ice Tea buzz dipped in chocolate...

My night was made complete by a goodnight chat with D, whom I know would never hit me unless I asked him to (wink wink...)

Seeing D

Aside from the unfortunate circumstances, seeing D this past weekend was like a breath of fresh air. Laughing with him, holding hands, going out to dinner, having someone open doors for me and walking with the security of his hand on the small of my back. Sounds sappy, but these are the things you miss when your over 2,000 miles away from the one person you love the most.

Same ole us. Corny jokes, wise cracks and upside-down observations all the day long. We laugh at weird shit, but what can I say...it's the tie that bonds us.

Of course, Sunday was to worst. Time scattered away from us and every five minutes felt like five seconds. Before we knew it, it was time again for that familiar drive to the airport.

A drive that is beginning to get old for both of us.

I'll see him in December...28 days or so from now. The count down, inevitably once again starts over.

Hello November...

Being so far away from "home" always feels worse when things get a little crumby. Like when some loser fuck-tard steals your debit card info and decides for go on a $27 shopping spree. I'm sure my cell phone bill money went MILES for those Nazi bastards (anyone rude is a Nazi, that's just how I see the world). It just feels more like a Monday when my family is all the way in California and my sweetie is all the way in Houston.

My room mate Monica and I are planning to have our own little sad version of Thanksgiving this month. With the prices of airfare shooting through the roof and neither of our families being "holiday-people", we have opted to save our money and make a feast of our own. We'll probably make some concoction from my favorite Caribbean cookbook, and have a big bottle of wine. We'll sit on pillows on the floor and listen to Shiny Toy Guns before heading out on the town. It will definitely mark my most unorthodox Thanksgiving I've ever had, but none the less it will be memorable I'm sure.

With my next visit to D a do-able 18 days away and the historical election in less than 24 hours, there is much to look forward to. In the mean time, I'm grateful that hot coffee is available to keep my frosty fingers company. I look forward to the leaves in New York continuing to amaze me with their slow transformation into golden brown and sappy red. I look forward to the snow that will surely come, and to it's tight encumbered crunching under my feet. And for the things to come after the new year.

Halloweeeeeeeen 2008!

My first holiday in NYC, and it wasn't all bad.
But why blog when you can upload photos.....

More to come soon!

Happy Birthday!!!

For those of you who don't know me personally, I've had an unhealthy obsession with Hello Kitty since birth... Today is her fabulousnesses birthday, she's 32 years old.

Ugh...Waiting Is For LOSERS

I effing miss my delicious boyfriend. And me effing misses me. I just want to smoosh his face and hug him and bake him treats. I wish waiting didn't take so long, I feel like I'm waiting for something to start all the time. Suspended in the air with a clock ticking. I hate hearing that he didn't eat today, because he knows how I am about him not eating from being so busy at work. He has no idea how much I wanted to telepathically communicate a steak dinner to him when he said that today. Missing him is something else, though. It's like a social disease all in itself. I know right now everything moves slow, and when I see him next month everything will be suspended for a second before moving at lightening speed and then slow again until Christmas. I'm get motion sickness.

People Who Know My Face...

It’s that special time of the year again, when people I love trickle into JFK and LaGuardia and stay in Brooklyn for a few days. This time around, however the tension of living with fuck-tards is out of the way, and my company and I can relax and enjoy the first few days of Fall in peace.

My mother will be first to arrive on Thursday. We don’t have anything solid planned other than to see a show and take in the sights of Manhattan. I don’t think she’s been to New York since she was around my age, maybe younger. I’ll be taking her to Dumbo (my personal favorite), the WTC, Time Square, Fifth Ave…and so on. I know her brand of motherly care is just what I need right now. I’m sure it’ll be a big huge, “Hi BABIEEEE!!” Followed by a light-hearted, “You BRAT.” for good measure. I can’t wait to see her wide smile and give her a big hug. I’m sure she’ll make me cut her hair, which of course (Mom if you’re reading this…) I’ll use as a bargaining tool to get a nice pair of something or other while we’re in the city. Hee hee..

Then come’s the future Mr. My Husband. After I realized that flying from New Orleans (which is about a 5 hour drive for D) to JFK is well under $200 I probed him to come see me. So he’ll be flying out on the 2nd and staying for the weekend. Wrapping my arms around him and keeping him locked in my bedroom for the entire time is about all the plans I have in mind as of yet. I haven’t seen him since August, and I probably won’t see him again until the holidays (Christmas probably). Honestly I plan on nothing more than sleeping in his arms, possibly seeing a movie, perhaps having one meal outside my apartment, but then retreating immediately back to my bedroom. I’m sure he’ll have no complaints.

After a long and drama-full summer, I’m looking forward to hanging out with two of the people who know me best. Between the motherly love and attention and the security of my man’s strong arms, riding out the rest of the year should be a breeze.

It’ll at least hold me until Obama wins the election.

Kinda Like Peeing Your Pants

It's warm outside, but wet. Hence the title. Welcome to New York, the clouds above say as I step outside, fashionably confused in a light jacket and heavy umbrella. I didn't even need the jacket, but I didn't want to get my arms wet as I walked to the train this morning. I can't say that I mind. The worst thing about rain, besides the clouds is the cold wind that blows it under your umbrella and into your face. Without the cold, the rain is actually refreshing- unlike peeing your pants.

My weekend went well, as long weekends go. Relaxing, stretched out and full of sleeping in. Sunday, Molly and I went into the city with empty pockets. We treated ourselves to vendor food (me a chicken sandwich on flat bread and Molls, the vegetarian, got a severely overpriced salad). Then skipped down Broadway where I got eye-fucked by fully uniformed Navy sailor boys and kept wondering out lout if it was my favorite holiday- Fleet Week. Somehow I ended up shaking hands with a tall, dark and handsome sailor and realized just how in love with D I actually am, because being single (and being me) and not finding out how long this statuesque man would be in town is practically taboo. Eventually we headed up to 42nd street by the New York Main Library where we were entertained momentarily by a trio of brothers (or maybe a Dad and his two sons) that were break dancing before a huge crowd. We moved on to BCBG, where we fantasized about having enough money (or nerve) to by $450 slacks, and left plotting how to come up with a hustle. The only thing we came up with (as we walked down to Union Square Park) was to sit on people and tell them we won't fart for $1. Needless to say we opted to keep our day jobs. Molly told me I haven't lived until I've had a shake from the Shake Shack located near the end of the park, but after seeing the line practically down the block and noting that the medium sized shake was $5, we decided to cross the street to Duane Reade and buy a Chunky Monkey to share. We sat eating ice cream on the bench and people (and dog) watching until the breeze turned cold and our arms became freckled with goose bumps.

Off to the cookout at Marshall's.

Yes, I know. But it was actually fun (after a heartfelt apology, followed by another; which I'm guessing was fueled by his five or so cups of Jungle Juice). I myself had about three cups on a-by then- empty stomach. Molly and me got into a deep conversation with Chris and Carlos' girlfriends about how cool our Women's Lit class teacher, Miss Plunkett, was back in California and then we bitched about boys for a little bit (I think). And eventually everyone ended up walking, wearily back down Fulton towards home at about 1AM.

Monday was a nothing kind of day, at least for me. There was a (nother...) cookout that I was invited to, but decided at the last minute not to go. Ralphy and Molly went to Atlantic City around 8pm, so I pleasantly had the place to myself. I stretched out on the couch and took a nap, did a little writing and a little TV watching. Talked to some friends on the phone for a few hours then made some tea and hopped in the bed. In my opinion, a good weekend. Full of warmth and sunshine...until the pissy-pant rain this morning...

Tryptophan Talk

I just want to say that waiting for someone to call you is probably the worst thing in the entire world to go through. I mean aside from the fact that it's outright boring; it's also humiliating. I mean they don't know your waiting for their call, but you do. And who wants to feel unwanted? Nobody that's who.

It's not like I couldn't have just picked up the phone and called D myself. I could have. It's just that I would rather he called me. It's his time to adjust and figure things out, and I don't want to interrupt. Although he'd say I wasn't interrupting but is it alright if he calls me later. Then he'll call me when he's done doing whatever, only at that point he'd probably rather just go to sleep, but he already said he'd call me and since D is never one to disappoint he'd call and we'd talk briefly. Then he'd say, "Well I gotta get up early Boogie..." and we'd get off the phone. No, it's much funner when he calls me on his own. When he's been thinking about me long enough to give him a little tick. And he purposely sets aside some time to sit down after he's eaten and watched the game and talked to his mother. He'd call me then, ready to talk. He'd already have something on his mind he wanted to ask, or something he'd seen that day that reminded him of me. Then we'd probably have a nice long talk. Like and hour. And I'd get off the phone feeling like I just ate a Thanksgiving meal. How you feel ready for sleep when your done.

But he didn't call.