(no subject)
You won't believe this, but I'm typing this entry from a bus. Another one. I know my irregular entries have been all about my love for NYC and my dwindling time in it, but the other night a stronger force won out. The Mother's Guilt-trip. Of course it's called a guilt-trip- every time I'm on the receiving end of one, I end up spending 11 hours on buses to and from New Hampshire. Maybe I should shift my perception of this one. The LAST guilt trip. Maybe I should savor every weird family quirk, every moment of condescension and passive-aggression. Maybe I'm capable of taking a nostalgia-laced trip within an obligatory trip. After all, when I'm in Carbondale, I won't be able to come home except for holidays or special occasions.
Things have been going well in New York. I'm still spending a little more than I'd like in my pursuit to soak up the city while I'm still in it, but it's not out of control. Molly and I met this past Thursday at Mama Mexico uptown (which the StL contingent will remember as the site of our New Years Eve dinner/drinks) for happy hour and guacamole. The next day I met Molly and Sam both at Soho House (immortalized in SATC as the place Samantha couldn't get into and subsequently stole someone else's identity) to cool off in the rooftop pool. The place is undeniably douchey, but NYC is woefully lacking in outdoor pool space that isn't full of kids and their urine. I can not confirm nor deny that I bought 4 quarts of Tasti D Lite on the way home (burnt sugar, black cherry, pina colada, chocolate latte).
Carey slept over on Friday night, and on Saturday we headed over to Wes and Greg's on Roosevelt Island to start Gay Pride Weekend. I made Fiesta Salad (a dish I made up containing fresh onion and tomato, black beans, chickpeas, cubed mild cheddar, fresh cilantro and hot sauce) and prepared pork chops with a Moroccan spice, parsely and salt dry rub and (unfortunately thin and tough) steaks in a vinegar, oil, and spice marinade. Carey did the grilling, and Zach, Douglas, Kelly, and Wes contributed dishes as well, and the BBQ was really really great. We played frisbee and laughed a lot, and later we wet back to Wes and Greg's to hang and have cocktails and more laughs. At midnight we decided to watch something from the Instant queue on Netflix and settled on "The Gay Bed & Breakfast of Terror." What can I say? It was one of the worst films I've ever seen, but perfect for the occasion. Carey and Kelly had left after the BBQ, but Zach and Doug and I slept over.
We ate leftover watermelon and had coffee the next morning, and got ready for the Pride Parade.
I have more, but will have to upload later- bus wifi is not the place to be uploading photos, no sir.
We headed into the city, dropped off Z&D's bags at Douglas' office, and headed to brunch in Chelsea at Viceroy http://nymag.com/listings/restaurant/viceroy/ . I got the fried oysters, eggs, collard greens, cheese grits, and champagne. Sounded good when I ordered it, but not an hour later in the 95 degree sun. Wes was feeling the heat even more, though, and we ended up cutting the day short because he was ill. I retired to Inwood and lay in front of the fan eating Tasti D Lite, Greta on the floor with her tongue lolling out. It was at about 8pm that I realized that if I were to make this visit to NH before things got really nuts, it would have to be this week, since I have plans with the mangroup for July 4th, Faith No More July 5th, and am flying out for StL/Vegas/Carbondale July 6th. Then the madness really takes hold.
Things have been going well in New York. I'm still spending a little more than I'd like in my pursuit to soak up the city while I'm still in it, but it's not out of control. Molly and I met this past Thursday at Mama Mexico uptown (which the StL contingent will remember as the site of our New Years Eve dinner/drinks) for happy hour and guacamole. The next day I met Molly and Sam both at Soho House (immortalized in SATC as the place Samantha couldn't get into and subsequently stole someone else's identity) to cool off in the rooftop pool. The place is undeniably douchey, but NYC is woefully lacking in outdoor pool space that isn't full of kids and their urine. I can not confirm nor deny that I bought 4 quarts of Tasti D Lite on the way home (burnt sugar, black cherry, pina colada, chocolate latte).
Carey slept over on Friday night, and on Saturday we headed over to Wes and Greg's on Roosevelt Island to start Gay Pride Weekend. I made Fiesta Salad (a dish I made up containing fresh onion and tomato, black beans, chickpeas, cubed mild cheddar, fresh cilantro and hot sauce) and prepared pork chops with a Moroccan spice, parsely and salt dry rub and (unfortunately thin and tough) steaks in a vinegar, oil, and spice marinade. Carey did the grilling, and Zach, Douglas, Kelly, and Wes contributed dishes as well, and the BBQ was really really great. We played frisbee and laughed a lot, and later we wet back to Wes and Greg's to hang and have cocktails and more laughs. At midnight we decided to watch something from the Instant queue on Netflix and settled on "The Gay Bed & Breakfast of Terror." What can I say? It was one of the worst films I've ever seen, but perfect for the occasion. Carey and Kelly had left after the BBQ, but Zach and Doug and I slept over.
We ate leftover watermelon and had coffee the next morning, and got ready for the Pride Parade.
I have more, but will have to upload later- bus wifi is not the place to be uploading photos, no sir.
We headed into the city, dropped off Z&D's bags at Douglas' office, and headed to brunch in Chelsea at Viceroy http://nymag.com/listings/restaurant/viceroy/ . I got the fried oysters, eggs, collard greens, cheese grits, and champagne. Sounded good when I ordered it, but not an hour later in the 95 degree sun. Wes was feeling the heat even more, though, and we ended up cutting the day short because he was ill. I retired to Inwood and lay in front of the fan eating Tasti D Lite, Greta on the floor with her tongue lolling out. It was at about 8pm that I realized that if I were to make this visit to NH before things got really nuts, it would have to be this week, since I have plans with the mangroup for July 4th, Faith No More July 5th, and am flying out for StL/Vegas/Carbondale July 6th. Then the madness really takes hold.