Monday, July 19, 2010

my weekend was possibly more nuts than a trip to a foreign country

when weekends are like this, who needs a trip to Italy?

1st there was the "hot tub time machine" reunion of the hot-tub party from Puerto Rico in February in a bar in NYC. The last time I saw these people, one was surreptitiously trying to pick another one up by "pretending" to look at a shopping list while actually taking pictures of them, another 2 were avidly making out in the pool while their friend desperately tried to get her other friend on the plane, there were bottles of champagne, dripping mascara and we were all pruned from being in the hot tub for over 3 hours. and this is after we spent the past 15 hours at the pool and then in Old San Juan.

That was followed by a drive through Bed-Stuy at 2 in the morning to drop someone off. It was a toss-up, honestly, whether Paracas was scarier or this. I think it's wierd that kids are out with their parents on the streets at 2 a.m. in the morning. I'm just saying, I think it didn't happen in my neighborhood when I was growing up. At least the people of Paracas went to bed and left the penguins and seals alone for the night.

The next night was E's birthday party at Sing Sing doing karaoke and we might not have even been in New York. It could have been Beijing. A man went into the women's bathroom and wasn't obviously in drag. There was beer everywhere, to the point I was glad that all the electric stuff is well insulated and/or not well electrified. We played some songs twice just because. And I really thought we should bring a tambourine and maraccas next time to karaoke. I took the subway home at 3:30 a.m. (a world record, and yes with a friend) and gasp I was ok. That's the kind of risk I normally reserve for one of those "well, hell we're in Germany so why not" moments.

And then the next day was the Bastille Day street fair on Smith Street. I went with K and some friends. We fleshed out my traveling maraccas and tambourine and castanets product plan further. They are thinking of something that snaps shut that I can carry in my purse wherever I go. For Bastille Day, the fair people cordoned off a section of the street for a skate ramp, another area for a beer/sangria tent and another for some large sand filled French version of Bacce ball. Everyone was dripping in 95 degree heat and wasted and uncomfortable.

When your actual life is this much of a party, sometimes it's helpful when you can't actually take a vacation.

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