Confessions.of.a.NYC.Lezie

My weekend was spent with the family, peaceful for once sans the bickering.

I actually saw and spent time with the entities that gave birth to me this weekend, something that doesn’t happen too often since accessing them is similar to trying to get a direct call into the President. They travel frequently. They work a lot. They have a lot of phones. By a lot I mean like three each. A completely futile system since they never seem to answer any of them, and when I call I’m never sure if the cell’s going to ring American style or beep and inform me that they’re in Europe or go static and inform me they’re probably in Haiti and I should use the Haitian mobile number I’ve failed to program into my phone despite the fact that I’ve had it for over seven years. Don’t get me wrong; we all love each other (with the assistance of consistent therapy). Our paths just don’t cross as much as some ‘more normal’ families (in my words) probably do.

On Friday night (our actual family movie night) we watched The Reaping. It was good. Profound. Excellent directorial skills. I am not a huge fan of Hillary Swank, but she was cute and even did an amazing job with her role. Watching that movie sparked my interest in getting a Bible. I know I know.

I am not one of those super freak Catholics who believe everything in the Bible. I am though, a believer. I have faith. I always said that I didn’t agree with the church (The Catholic Church is one of richest in the world) but there is not a doubt that there is something out there that is bigger than all of us. Heck, I don’t even know all Rosary prayers and I went to a Catholic Boarding school. It’s to tell you that I could care less about what’s written in the Bible. I read some of the passages as just plain literary work – a story, a tale, and folklore. I am not someone who believes that everything that is written in our sacred book is REAL.

Saturday, I ventured into Barnes and bought myself a Bible. I still haven’t opened it. It is still wrapped up in the B&N bag with the receipt in it.

Also, Saturday I visited some houses in Saddle River – NJ. My parents are looking into buying a new home – a bigger home (as though, our 6 bedroom house wasn’t big enough). They are secretly trying to keep my siblings and I under their roofs until we can escape by marrying someone (eww) or be a homo (brave) and move out.

Sunday was the Breast Cancer Walk. 3 People stopped me (at different times) and thought I was Eva Pigford. When I had my hair really short, people always asked for an autograph. I used to get really upset because I am unique – duh. But really, yesterday I had my hair in this little messy bun with a scarf and looked absolutely cute in my outfit. I do look like her but I can only see it when she is profile. But my skin isn’t dark like hers – she’s black, I’m half. – Actually I don’t know if she is. Nonetheless, she is dark and I am not. Although I should say that she does have a nice color, which I envy during the cold winters, when I am as white as Casper (our friendly Ghost).

This past weekend, I wanted to spend it alone – as in I wanted some fresh air, I wanted peace, I wanted sanity and really…no one to entertain.

Saturday morning was spent at the beach. A little fake surfing here and there and jet skiing along Long Beach Island was blissful. You may think otherwise, but I was in heaven. I went back to my summer crib and started to dial some numbers because I was starting to get bored. The first person I called was of course The Writer and since she lives in NYC and I swear no one who lives in the East Village owns a car, we had to make plans around her neck of the woods. Next person on my list was BFF NYU. She’s always fun to hang out with and when she is drunk she is the best entertainment available. I asked her if she would want to hang in the city and so she agreed. So my next and last person was my Intern and it was a quick yes.

My night started just fine. Traffic into the city was calm- it was just pleasant. We all met up at Porky’s. If you don’t know Porky’s then good. It is the trashiest college frat boy bar in city. It was packed with hair gel and tight pink shirts and over ripped bodies and nipples saying HellOooOo. I wasn’t complaining. 1. Because Guido(s) are just another species I don’t turn head for and 2. I was there for the drinks.

I made my way to the bar and observed the crowd dancing to “Umbrella” c’mon…how old is that song? Ella Ella … I laughed as I walked to the dance floor to show the boys how it’s really done. I got this kid’s cane who was crippled and told him that I’d be right back. I got my danced on and seriously made up some crazy dance moves with that cane. I was in 4-inch heels and a little top with skinny jeans (for some of you – tapered jeans and you don’t know what’s a la mode!) and I was really hetero that night – guys wanting to dance with me, getting my number and offering drinks to a pretty lass. I kid you not.

Fast forward 4 hours on the dance floor.

I was sliding across the floor; the floor got so wet with fucktards who were drunk and kept dropping their sweet “i'm your best friend” beers on the floor and I danced and sang through every 80’s hit music and made friends that I don’t remember making. 12 rum and cokes later, I found myself dancing with my ex- intern. Ouch! And I’ll leave it as that.

It was about 3:30am when I decided to rack up my girlies, sip my last drink and head out. No I didn’t drive home. I slept in the city.

I don’t remember walking to The Writer’s place. I don’t remember the cab there. And I certainly do not remember what happened after that.

I woke up at 9am, wondered what happened. Looked over and saw her and woke up with “I’m fucking hungry, my head hurts, I need to puke!” I went to my clutch to look to see whose number I got that night and saw that my phone was missing and all I could think was:
“Fuck. I’m screwed”

I went back to bed and woke up for my flight at 10pm. It didn’t register that I didn’t have my phone until I got home and my mother was asking where the hell I was.

“Fuck. I’m screwed.” I need to come up with a story to my HR people so that I can get a new phone without having to pay 500 bucks for it. I should just lie.

Yep. That’s not going to work.

Very ODD weekend.

Stay tuned.

…Walking is one activity I had to do and hardly enjoyed except for the walk The German and I took along the JP pond. We literally walked everywhere – to get breakfast, to grab coffee I mean everywhere except when we went to see Peter Li in Saugus. If you are ever in the Boston area and you are starving you should head to Saugus (forgot the restaurant’s name) and have some Saugus wings. They were a delight.

Saturday morning, I woke up next to The German, her arms wrapped up around my waist and I must have wondered where the fuck I was. It was early- around 7am. I am an early bird, so I woke her up and asked if we could grab coffee. We did a quick dressing and went out (walked) to this really cute café – something you would find in the east village. We decided that we were hungry, we headed to a cute restaurant not too far from the coffee place and ordered some ginormous omelets, which I couldn’t finish because I felt like I had the worst hangover of my life – head pounding, eye blurring and all. I probably looked like shit, but whatever.

When we were done, we walked towards the JP Park and sat on a bench and people watched while I nursed on my coffee and The German was in doggy land. We talked to almost every dog that walked by us. It was cute. She is so fond of dogs that it is just heavenly.

The afternoon crawled in and we found ourselves in a car heading to Saugus for the famous wings. We had a couple of volcanoes, ate for the children in Africa and stogged our life away.

That night was the Old School Hip Hop Party. I blinged myself out, track suited my shit to the top, diamonds in my ears and fingers and I was old school FO SHO! I wasn’t expecting lots of people to dress up, but The German’s roommate (lets call her Queen) along with The German dressed up. Once we arrived at the shindig, almost everyone had their costumes on. It was pretty cute.

The night ended with The German and I….


To Be Continued…

I ventured out to RedSox land for the weekend to visit The German. For those who haven’t been to Boston and are Yankees fans, DO NOT, I repeat DO NOT go. You would seriously feel the need to bust out some NY punches because I swear everyone I saw had on redsox tee-shirts. Although I am a hardcore fan of Blue and Orange (for those who don’t know baseball – It’s the METS) I felt awkward walking the streets loaded with Bostonians completely dressed in Bosox gear. They have a huge pride for their home team and sadly we do not. It’s not the same. The hate is stronger. The love is stronger. It’s one of those love it or hate it. But love it ‘till you die kind of thing.

I hopped on the Chinese bus sans the chicken and goats attached on the side of the bus and headed to Boston MA. The ride was splendid. I slept through most of it and attempted to read my book but I was too far interested in looking out the window and looking at nature. There is something definitely peaceful about that.

I arrived in Boston around 3:30p and headed outside for a quick cig break and read the paper while I waited for The German to get out of work. After an hour or so, I got in a cab and went to The German’s job. We took the subway and headed to her house. By the way, for us NYC folks, the subway system goes by either numbers or letters, theirs go by colors.

But anyhow, we got home, switched my outfit and headed south to a Melissa Ferrick boat cruise with a couple of her friends. I couldn’t think of anything gay-er than a MF boat cruise loaded with lezies of all sorts and even to my surprise, there were heteros. Melissa was great, funny and witty and absolutely adorable. I had a great time and so did The German. C’mon I am so charming, who wouldn’t want to be in my presence?

The German was as splendid as MF. We unquestionably connected and with every conversation we had – even the tiny ones were priceless. I know its sounds corny, but I actually never felt connected to someone like that in a very long time. She has brain and she can actually hold her liquor – two of my favorite things.

And then…

To be continued…