Monday, October 03, 2005
I Need Another Weekend
Isn't the point of the weekend, to recover from the work week and not vice versa?
Friday- Dinner party, then boozing it up in the West Village until 3 am. I should have just stayed home. The men were..... unimpressive, to say the least. When I finally tucked my sorry ass into bed at 4:30, I felt like hours of my life had just been wasted.
Saturday: Karen and I board the Staten Island Ferry, heading for what will become the longest concert of our lives. Six opening bands. A LOT of REALLY drunk people. And once the sun went down, it got cold. There was a group of girls in front of us, that couldn't have been older than 18 and had probably driven their mom's suburban to get there. Here's a line from one of them that will give you an idea of what they were like-
Drunk Girl, talking to her friend that was standing behind me, and occasionally falling into me as she struggled to complete her sentence- "Oh.. my.. god.... I am SO wasted. And it's only....7:30"
Seriously. The entire day was a study in behavioral science. They guy who spent the whole concert at the back of the crowd, then 10 minutes before the opening band, decides to push his way to the front, and doesn't understand why we're calling him an asshole. The funny girls we befriended. The 4 foot tall lesbian who stuck her face in my tits. I could go on and on. It was quite a day. Karen and I are forever bonded for having had that experience together.
Last night. Three hours on the stoop with Neighbor Boy. Three hours of touching in some way. I could spend all day, recounting the small details that made my heart sing. The touches, the looks, the comments. With each touch of his hand on my hair, I sunk a little deeper. I'm trying so hard to not allow myself to have too much hope. But I can't stop myself. I can't keep the smile off my face.
He asked for my phone number.
All I can do is wait.
Friday- Dinner party, then boozing it up in the West Village until 3 am. I should have just stayed home. The men were..... unimpressive, to say the least. When I finally tucked my sorry ass into bed at 4:30, I felt like hours of my life had just been wasted.
Saturday: Karen and I board the Staten Island Ferry, heading for what will become the longest concert of our lives. Six opening bands. A LOT of REALLY drunk people. And once the sun went down, it got cold. There was a group of girls in front of us, that couldn't have been older than 18 and had probably driven their mom's suburban to get there. Here's a line from one of them that will give you an idea of what they were like-
Drunk Girl, talking to her friend that was standing behind me, and occasionally falling into me as she struggled to complete her sentence- "Oh.. my.. god.... I am SO wasted. And it's only....7:30"
Seriously. The entire day was a study in behavioral science. They guy who spent the whole concert at the back of the crowd, then 10 minutes before the opening band, decides to push his way to the front, and doesn't understand why we're calling him an asshole. The funny girls we befriended. The 4 foot tall lesbian who stuck her face in my tits. I could go on and on. It was quite a day. Karen and I are forever bonded for having had that experience together.
Last night. Three hours on the stoop with Neighbor Boy. Three hours of touching in some way. I could spend all day, recounting the small details that made my heart sing. The touches, the looks, the comments. With each touch of his hand on my hair, I sunk a little deeper. I'm trying so hard to not allow myself to have too much hope. But I can't stop myself. I can't keep the smile off my face.
He asked for my phone number.
All I can do is wait.
Labels: Marc
