Monday, February 05, 2007
Tired. So Tired.
Sweet fancy Moses. I am going to need some serious recovery time after the weekend that I just had.
Friday night: I went out with my long-lost stepsister. My dad married her mom (a.k.a. The Dragon Lady or The Wicked Witch of the West) when I was 5. They got divorced when I was 18. In the 13 year interim of family togetherness, Allison and I had a serious love/hate relationship. At times she was my best friend. Other times, my bitterest enemy. After our parents divorced, we just let the relationship die, tainted as we both were by the animosity between our parents.
10 years later, that animosity has faded, she found me on MySpace and her and her boyfriend came out to New York for the weekend and I spent a lot of time with them.
We started out at a fantastic wine bar in SoHo, followed by dinner at Lombardi's- the oldest/best pizza joint in New York, then I took them to my favorite Irish pub in the West Village and we ended the night with hot fudge sundae's at Serendipity.
I had a surprisingly really good time. We laughed a lot at the memories of our ridiculously stupid antics as children and told the story of Allison getting so drunk at 14 that she fell in the bathtub and poured Mr. Bubble all over her head so many times that her boyfriend nearly strangled us. It was surprisingly easy and comfortable after a 10 year hiatus and the competitiveness that had plagued us as children seemed completely gone. Praise allah for maturity, I suppose.
Saturday I spent all day with Karen and Shannon- moving them out of their apartment and into mine. I had anticipated a horribly long and arduous day where we would all be ready to kill each other at the end of it. For a move out of a 3rd story walkup, the pain was relatively minimal. By 4 pm, we had returned the U-haul, devoured a meal at Popeye's and turned in the keys to their landlord.
The rest of the night was spent cleaning and rearranging.
And it I know it hasn't been apparent yet (I've been busy and tired), and I'm not saying this just cause she reads this (Hi Boo!), I love having Karen there. I love planning what we're going to do with the place, and watching her fix the things that I can't (the TV and the remote). I love her Cuisinart food processor and I don't even mind how she watches TV like a man.
I was sore and exhausted, but when I went to bed on Saturday night, I knew that life was good.
Sunday I woke up so sore in my legs that they have been spasming about once an hour all day yesterday and today. The cure for sore legs? Brunch with bottomless mimosa's! Allison, her boyfriend, my friend Michelle and I met up at our favorite brunch place in the Lower East Side and got tanked on mimosa's. Going to Chinatown for some knock-off handbags (not for me! I don't buy knockoffs) next was probably not in our best interest, but we did it anyway. Allison loved the adventure of the secret back rooms filled with fake couture bags. I had a good time just watching her wide-eyed wonder of it all.
Then a superbowl party, which I didn't enjoy as much as I could/should have, as I was fading fast. My body was exhausted and it just wanted to be home. In bed.
Soon enough the night was over and I was in a cab, thankfully heading home. To Karen!
All weekend, I cried only once very briefly because I was missing Cam.
Friday night: I went out with my long-lost stepsister. My dad married her mom (a.k.a. The Dragon Lady or The Wicked Witch of the West) when I was 5. They got divorced when I was 18. In the 13 year interim of family togetherness, Allison and I had a serious love/hate relationship. At times she was my best friend. Other times, my bitterest enemy. After our parents divorced, we just let the relationship die, tainted as we both were by the animosity between our parents.
10 years later, that animosity has faded, she found me on MySpace and her and her boyfriend came out to New York for the weekend and I spent a lot of time with them.
We started out at a fantastic wine bar in SoHo, followed by dinner at Lombardi's- the oldest/best pizza joint in New York, then I took them to my favorite Irish pub in the West Village and we ended the night with hot fudge sundae's at Serendipity.
I had a surprisingly really good time. We laughed a lot at the memories of our ridiculously stupid antics as children and told the story of Allison getting so drunk at 14 that she fell in the bathtub and poured Mr. Bubble all over her head so many times that her boyfriend nearly strangled us. It was surprisingly easy and comfortable after a 10 year hiatus and the competitiveness that had plagued us as children seemed completely gone. Praise allah for maturity, I suppose.
Saturday I spent all day with Karen and Shannon- moving them out of their apartment and into mine. I had anticipated a horribly long and arduous day where we would all be ready to kill each other at the end of it. For a move out of a 3rd story walkup, the pain was relatively minimal. By 4 pm, we had returned the U-haul, devoured a meal at Popeye's and turned in the keys to their landlord.
The rest of the night was spent cleaning and rearranging.
And it I know it hasn't been apparent yet (I've been busy and tired), and I'm not saying this just cause she reads this (Hi Boo!), I love having Karen there. I love planning what we're going to do with the place, and watching her fix the things that I can't (the TV and the remote). I love her Cuisinart food processor and I don't even mind how she watches TV like a man.
I was sore and exhausted, but when I went to bed on Saturday night, I knew that life was good.
Sunday I woke up so sore in my legs that they have been spasming about once an hour all day yesterday and today. The cure for sore legs? Brunch with bottomless mimosa's! Allison, her boyfriend, my friend Michelle and I met up at our favorite brunch place in the Lower East Side and got tanked on mimosa's. Going to Chinatown for some knock-off handbags (not for me! I don't buy knockoffs) next was probably not in our best interest, but we did it anyway. Allison loved the adventure of the secret back rooms filled with fake couture bags. I had a good time just watching her wide-eyed wonder of it all.
Then a superbowl party, which I didn't enjoy as much as I could/should have, as I was fading fast. My body was exhausted and it just wanted to be home. In bed.
Soon enough the night was over and I was in a cab, thankfully heading home. To Karen!
All weekend, I cried only once very briefly because I was missing Cam.
