Not-So-Interesting Blabbering
I'm in a very funky mood today. I just lost the perfect futon on craigslist by an hour and the same one will cost me about $75 more in the cheapest of stores. The reason I am furniture trolling on craigslist (and yes, I only use it for furniture, thank you very much, although the sugar daddy offers are tempting) is that my comfy chair that lived under my loft bed was brutally fractured in a battle with my roomate's out of town guests. Whenever my roomate, The Kid (I'm being quite nice because I really want to label him The Gassy Wonder), has guests in we exchange bedrooms, due to the infintessimally miniscule size of the apartment and the lack of a living room or even a real 2nd bedroom for that matter. Last Friday night I stumble homeward to find one of two matching chairs completely broken - no note, no nothing. When I inquire about this mystery to The Kid, he replies, "I don't know how that happened". I don't mind if something is broken, its just stuff, but freakin own up to it. When I returned from the weekend of wedding hell, he said "Yeah, sorry about that. I have no idea how that happened. My friend just sat in it and it broke." Hmm, then maybe, just maybe that would be how it happened? Ya think? So now I am doing the craigslist dance and losing out on the absolute perfect futon because I took a little nap. Do you see what sleep does to you? And they say sleep is healthy. Ha! Clearly they have never lost out on the perfect futon sofa bed because of sleep.
Last night I went out with my spunky take-no-prisoners neighbor, The African Vodoo Spirit. She's an amazing fiesty transplant from a tiny African country whose name I can never remember; I heard her speaking French on the stoop one day and we've been friends ever since, although until this past week we've mainly seen eachother in passing and impromptu stoop parties. Her friend from Vienna and my friend Buff, an actor from home whom I've just recently reconnected with, met us at Lincoln Center where we listened to free Zydeco music. I'm all about their free concerts, and they even have dance lessons for the different types of music (not free, of course) and a dance floor on which the people who have paid for the lessons get to twirl the night away. Buff and I might do one of the swing nights, though I warned him of my rhythmically challenged inabilities. He replied "I know." I said "Yeah, but have you ever tried to dance with me before?" and Buff said "Yes, it wasn't that bad." Not that bad..hmm, I guess I'll take what I can get. At the end of the evening, we retired to the stoop for another impromptu stoop party, where we met many of the very interesting cast of characters residing on my block and drank beer and wine into the wee hours of the morning. But it was fun and chill, and I'm all about the relaxing and not running so fast these days.
Thursday night I got a message from Mr. Emotionally Unavailable. He is evidently immune to the illness, as further tests noted. While I am absultely grateful for his immediate disclosure, I certainly wish I had known before soending $150 at the doctors needlessly!
I am now back from a lovely evening with Mr. Saucy Funnybuns and the New York contingent of the Wonder Twins...and while I would love to finish this post, I can't at all recall what more I wanted to say and its 3am so its definitely time for bed. At least I wrote something, and senseless blabbering is still better than nothing, right?
Last night I went out with my spunky take-no-prisoners neighbor, The African Vodoo Spirit. She's an amazing fiesty transplant from a tiny African country whose name I can never remember; I heard her speaking French on the stoop one day and we've been friends ever since, although until this past week we've mainly seen eachother in passing and impromptu stoop parties. Her friend from Vienna and my friend Buff, an actor from home whom I've just recently reconnected with, met us at Lincoln Center where we listened to free Zydeco music. I'm all about their free concerts, and they even have dance lessons for the different types of music (not free, of course) and a dance floor on which the people who have paid for the lessons get to twirl the night away. Buff and I might do one of the swing nights, though I warned him of my rhythmically challenged inabilities. He replied "I know." I said "Yeah, but have you ever tried to dance with me before?" and Buff said "Yes, it wasn't that bad." Not that bad..hmm, I guess I'll take what I can get. At the end of the evening, we retired to the stoop for another impromptu stoop party, where we met many of the very interesting cast of characters residing on my block and drank beer and wine into the wee hours of the morning. But it was fun and chill, and I'm all about the relaxing and not running so fast these days.
Thursday night I got a message from Mr. Emotionally Unavailable. He is evidently immune to the illness, as further tests noted. While I am absultely grateful for his immediate disclosure, I certainly wish I had known before soending $150 at the doctors needlessly!
I am now back from a lovely evening with Mr. Saucy Funnybuns and the New York contingent of the Wonder Twins...and while I would love to finish this post, I can't at all recall what more I wanted to say and its 3am so its definitely time for bed. At least I wrote something, and senseless blabbering is still better than nothing, right?
posted by Le Synge Bleu at 5:42 PM
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