Hot and Sticky

So, to all my faithful followers (ha): I'm sure you've noticed I have changed the layout of my blog. The absence of many of my friends in the city for the past week has brought about SUCH productivity. I even invented a recipe. E-mail me if you would like to experiment; it's a version of vegetarian chili and relatively easy.

I think I should also credit the picture used in my new heading. This is a photograph taken in Michigan by Lars Jensen, an Ann Arbor native. I stumbled across his photography in my quest for some pictures of the sand dunes off Lake Michigan. I highly suggest you take a look at his website. Michigander or not, you might appreciate his absolutely beautiful work: Lars Jensen

In other news, my feet look like they are wearing wig caps. I'm wearing these nude footies to prevent sweating/slipping in flats. Fancy?

Let's talk about my week on my lonesome. I apparently use the term 'alone' quite loosely as I tried to spend most hours of last week with anyone willing to grace my presence. In most cases, I'll admit it was Mark. He's such a good sport. Kind of like Phil was; waiting for me while I dilly dally and change purses two times before we go, OR making eye contact with me even when I look like a frumpy librarian who hasn't seen sunlight in three years, OR putting up with my blunt, oft-times brutal comments or slight molestations after a few too many drinks, etc. etc.

How sad that I used the past tense mentioning Phil. He's not dead! Just not ever going to live in New York. ahaha, that's what he thinks.

On Monday night, I had a lovely time working at the Intrepid, a big ass ship-cum-museum docked on the pier by the Hudson. Ships have always and will always give me the creeps. Monday was no exception as I didn't allow myself to look up at its vast, haunting right side as I walked alongside the deck. It was especially creepy once night fell. I just shuddered thinking about it.

But you know what makes me SHUDDER more? Oh, could it be . . . Thursday night? The night I decided to unwind from my non-stressful day (seriously) and finally watch the season DVDs of Just Shoot Me. There I was, in my pajamas, all curled up, snacking on a fat-free plain yogurt with blueberries thrown in, laughing at good ole Finch's antics when . . . all of a sudden . . . I hear a screeching noise. No big deal. I figure it's a car. But it continues, and the sound grows louder and louder, until it's actually starting to overpower the noise from the television. I make the grave mistake of pausing the DVD and strain my ears to hear . . . piercing shrieks and incessant squeaking from . . . the RATS in my ALLEY outside MY WINDOW. Holy. Hell. My stomach threw up inside itself as I automatically tensed my shoulders up by ears, stuck my tongue out in a disgusted face and shook my head. I told myself it wasn't the rats for about . . . thirty seconds . . . but there was no denying it. These rats were telling all the surrounding buildings their fucking epic story about life in the city as a rat, a rat opera, if you will. Needless to say, I couldn't sleep that well on Thursday evening.

Have I mentioned I need to get out of this neighborhood?

Which brings me to my next topic:
Jordon and I ARE MOVING (God willing). If you know of any leads, preferably in Manhattan, on any 2 bedroom apartments with ample closet space, please contact me ASAP. Every night I've been doing my mental visualizations of us living in a beautiful home on the Upper West Side, so hopefully the positive thinking will kick in! I mean, of course it will!!!

On a final note before I hit the sack, I experienced my first Pride Parade in the city yesterday! What an amazing day! I had to work until late afternoon so I thought I was going to be disappointed and miss most of the festivities. Wrong! I stepped out on Fifth Avenue only to find the greatest display and celebration I've beheld . . possibly ever. I grabbed my rainbow flag and pretty much partied as I followed the parade for thirty blocks, until Randi met me up down on Tenth Street and joined in on the fun. To us little Midwestern transplants, the whole day was one hell of an inspiring treat. Some of my favorite parts were: the Dorothy (Bea Arthur) impersonator, the GO! magazine float, the pregnant lesbian couples and the Gay Men's Chorus. We also hit up an after party at Art Bar in the village and danced atop the booths until the early mor--okay, until 11:30. It was a Sunday, after all. While the energy was pumping and the events so happy, there was still a tinge of sadness at times. I can't wait for equality in the future. I have hope that it will be in my lifetime for my family and friends to experience the same rights offered to heterosexuals. Here's to hope!

With that, I leave you. Goodnight, readers.
UNT