So, Poppy has come for a visit. It's very exciting. Well, not really. But it's fun and it makes me happy.
He was in Indiana for the Grand Prix last weekend (yeah, Daddy went to a race on my Birthday) and decided to swing by New York for a couple days on his way back to Guam, via Hawai'i. The life of a pilot. I kinda want it. So he got here last night. Arrived at Port Authority right about 5:45PM. Not really the best time to be at Port Authority. Oh how I hate the crowds in Manhattan at rush hour. Especially down around 42nd street. I realize I can never live in Jersey now. I hate the PATH and the idea of having to commute through The Port every day makes me break out in hives. I don't think Dad's any more fond of the crowds either. This is the man who stated the whole year and a half he lived here that it was a good thing he didn't own a gun and then would mumble about Bernie Goetz. I think it's just the sheer concentration of people in a small space that leads to the sheer concentration of too many stupid people in a small space. Makes him crazy.
Anyway, we battled through the crowds along 42nd street with his luggage and the rush hour hoards on the F train to make it safely back to my very hot & humid apartment. Because this is apparently the year we're having August in June or something. It's just been too miserable and muggy this month. I lucked into nice weather for the BBQ last weekend. We rested for a bit and let Mom know we made it home. Then off to forage for dinner.
We ended up doing the wine and bread and cheese (and olives and potato salad and hummus and triskets) thing out back. We had a brief bit of sprinkly rain, but it stopped and we were able to eat our stilton & havarti in peace. Then I was forced inside to clean the catbox while Dad enjoyed a post-dinner cigar. Dad has a bit of a phobia about the catbox. Don't know why, but he can't handle it having much in the way of poo in it. I'm starting to suspect that some of my aversion to poo comes from this. I should get a therapist and bring this up. Maybe. Or not.
After that was a lovely walk around the block while we pondered another dinner option for tonight, in case we couldn't get reservations at Grocery. We did get them for 9:30 so that's fine. You don't have to worry. I suspect it'll be drinks at Zombie Hut and then dinner at Grocery. Date night with my Dad. Without the movie.
Then it was just putzing around the apartment. I tidied a little and showered while Dad cleared a backload of email (five days worth!). Good times. I like just hanging with him. We watched the season premier of Monk on TiVo and the scenes of Monk trapped on the subway car kinda made me giggle and think of Dad just a few hours earlier. But I must make clear that Dad did NOT cry on the train. It was also nice to see that they were ACTUALLY on a train to Brooklyn and then in a station in Brooklyn when they were supposed to be in Brooklyn. Though I'm still confused as to how getting stuck back on a Brooklyn bound A train landed Monk in the middle of Times Square.
I felt kinda weird yesterday at work being all excited about my Dad visiting. Lovey lost hers a few years ago and I'd find myself about to say something flip. Then I'd rethink it at the last minute. It just seemed so inappropriate to joke whine about my Pops coming to visit when hers never will. You know? I know she wouldn't think I was trying to be mean or insensitive or anything, but I'd hate making her miss her Dad or anything. I'm just so lucky to have two loving, involved parents who are still alive and frequently visit. That I can just hang around my apartment watching TV and making bad jokes with my Dad. Which is an awesome thing to do.
Wednesday, June 23, 2004
Tuesday, June 22, 2004
Birthday Week - Day Six
I think next time I have such an extensive Birthday Week I'm just taking the whole week off from work or something. I did have a lovely lunch at Amy's Bread with Rock Star Stan. And then we went to Staples and I bought pens! Because it's Staples and I have to buy something. I'm an office supply whore, you know. I did have a brief panic attack during the day though. Muffy and I put some warm beers in the freezer the previous night to cool them quickly so we could have more of them. Because. We wanted more. And I left them there. I had visions of a lovely glass bottle explosion in my freezer and it made me a little sad. It's a cute little fridge/freezer. White with blue accent colors. Darling thing. I'd hate to abuse it so. With a glass bottle explosion.
Um, yeah. Anyway.
After work Muppet and I headed over to Southside to meet Muffy and Steph for wine, special garlic bread and penne ala vodka. Ah how I love meals at Birthday Week. And oh how I love penne ala vodka. Yummy. I think I babbled on a bit too much during dinner though. I remember me talking lots and everyone else just smile and nodding and thinking, "must humor crazed birthday girl, must humor crazed birthday girl..." Sometimes I think I talk to much. And I probably tell the same stories a thousand times to the same people. I just happen to find me fascinating and don't realize that not everyone finds me quite so fascinating all the time. Ah well. It was my birthday and I had a great time at dinner.
Muppet had an early conference call the next day and took off after dinner. Muffy, Steph and I headed to the theater and caught Saved!. It was pretty awesome. I love when Mandy Moore sensibly plays evil people. And the movie was hysterical. And any hesitations I had over Macaulay Culkin were apparently unfounded. He was pretty funny. And I think I found him almost attractive. I'm not sure I'm ready to talk about that yet. I also had lots of flashbacks to some childhood traumas. Like the time I was saved at some Southern Baptist revival I went to with a little neighborhood girl and her family in North Carolina. Mostly it was playing games and listening to sermons and winning prizes but somehow on the final night I ended up on my knees praying and crying and being saved. Thank goodness that passed by the time I got home. Or at the retreats we had to go to once a year when I went to Jesuit school in Louisiana. I remember one year we had a lot of musical games at the retreat and they played Wilson Phillips "Hold On" for eternity. Ugh. I did not expect Saved! to actually remind me of my life. How wrong. Regardless, the movie was great and we all had fun.
Then we hung out on the subway platform for about seventeen hours, making horrible fun of each other while waiting for the dammed F train to arrive. Piece of crap line.
Anyway, arrived home to find my beer and my fridge in good condition. Yay!
Not very exciting but it is early in the week. I figured the middle Birthday Week events should be quiet ones. So that things like Karaoke and the BBQ can get the energy they deserve.
Um, yeah. Anyway.
After work Muppet and I headed over to Southside to meet Muffy and Steph for wine, special garlic bread and penne ala vodka. Ah how I love meals at Birthday Week. And oh how I love penne ala vodka. Yummy. I think I babbled on a bit too much during dinner though. I remember me talking lots and everyone else just smile and nodding and thinking, "must humor crazed birthday girl, must humor crazed birthday girl..." Sometimes I think I talk to much. And I probably tell the same stories a thousand times to the same people. I just happen to find me fascinating and don't realize that not everyone finds me quite so fascinating all the time. Ah well. It was my birthday and I had a great time at dinner.
Muppet had an early conference call the next day and took off after dinner. Muffy, Steph and I headed to the theater and caught Saved!. It was pretty awesome. I love when Mandy Moore sensibly plays evil people. And the movie was hysterical. And any hesitations I had over Macaulay Culkin were apparently unfounded. He was pretty funny. And I think I found him almost attractive. I'm not sure I'm ready to talk about that yet. I also had lots of flashbacks to some childhood traumas. Like the time I was saved at some Southern Baptist revival I went to with a little neighborhood girl and her family in North Carolina. Mostly it was playing games and listening to sermons and winning prizes but somehow on the final night I ended up on my knees praying and crying and being saved. Thank goodness that passed by the time I got home. Or at the retreats we had to go to once a year when I went to Jesuit school in Louisiana. I remember one year we had a lot of musical games at the retreat and they played Wilson Phillips "Hold On" for eternity. Ugh. I did not expect Saved! to actually remind me of my life. How wrong. Regardless, the movie was great and we all had fun.
Then we hung out on the subway platform for about seventeen hours, making horrible fun of each other while waiting for the dammed F train to arrive. Piece of crap line.
Anyway, arrived home to find my beer and my fridge in good condition. Yay!
Not very exciting but it is early in the week. I figured the middle Birthday Week events should be quiet ones. So that things like Karaoke and the BBQ can get the energy they deserve.
Birthday Week - Day Five
So, got to work again and again with the no worship, adoration or sending me home early. What's up with that? Maybe someone should put a call in to management. Do they not KNOW it's Birthday Week? Things were actually pretty awful at the office with lots of drama, strongly worded emails and meetings. And I was actually the one writing the strongly worded emails and getting people in trouble. Ugh. Whatever. It was a stressful workday and not really one that fit in with Birthday Week. Bad, bad work.
But then I left. And that was glorious.
Headed home to chat with Pumpkin about birthday fun and her life and all that so I wasn't able to tidy in time for Muffy's appearance. It was so hot we turned off all the lights anyway and didn't even have to look at the filth. So that was good. And chatting with Pumpkin is always a joy.
Anyway, Muffy popped by for sofa night after a crappy day at her job. The plan had originally been for a Bring it On/Center Stage DVD double feature. Or at the very least a Charlie's Angels Season One mini-marathon. But since Muffy was the only attendee and we'd been talking about her seeing Sixteen Candles (finally!) we decided to do that. While drinking beer, gabbing and eating lo mein out of the carton. And sweating a lot in the heat and the humidity. It was a pretty awesome time. I'd forgotten how much I loved Sixteen Candles. Muffy had started to watch it on cable earlier in the month and I told her that wasn't allowed as you miss some of the best parts that way. And I think she liked it. Now she can understand all the Long Duck Dong jokes (man, how offensive and sexist and racist and all is this movie, dang) and the Grandparents and the feeling up of the Molly by the Grandma and various jokes of our generation. I'm sure she feels like a better person.
We did have a bit of a spat during the movie though. She doesn't think that Jake Ryan is all that hot. Well, she did appreciate him at the end when he's walking up to the church looking all smokin' and with the Porsche behind him and all. But otherwise I think she kept hoping that Samantha would end up with Farmer Ted. I have no words. JAKE RYAN!!! So hot. Feel free to throw your support behind Jake and I in the comments section. Because, really. Jake Ryan is so hot.
I made her watch the final kissing over the cake scene a couple of times and then sent her on her way home to her air conditioned apartment while I showered off New York grime and sweat and headed to bed.
Good times.
But then I left. And that was glorious.
Headed home to chat with Pumpkin about birthday fun and her life and all that so I wasn't able to tidy in time for Muffy's appearance. It was so hot we turned off all the lights anyway and didn't even have to look at the filth. So that was good. And chatting with Pumpkin is always a joy.
Anyway, Muffy popped by for sofa night after a crappy day at her job. The plan had originally been for a Bring it On/Center Stage DVD double feature. Or at the very least a Charlie's Angels Season One mini-marathon. But since Muffy was the only attendee and we'd been talking about her seeing Sixteen Candles (finally!) we decided to do that. While drinking beer, gabbing and eating lo mein out of the carton. And sweating a lot in the heat and the humidity. It was a pretty awesome time. I'd forgotten how much I loved Sixteen Candles. Muffy had started to watch it on cable earlier in the month and I told her that wasn't allowed as you miss some of the best parts that way. And I think she liked it. Now she can understand all the Long Duck Dong jokes (man, how offensive and sexist and racist and all is this movie, dang) and the Grandparents and the feeling up of the Molly by the Grandma and various jokes of our generation. I'm sure she feels like a better person.
We did have a bit of a spat during the movie though. She doesn't think that Jake Ryan is all that hot. Well, she did appreciate him at the end when he's walking up to the church looking all smokin' and with the Porsche behind him and all. But otherwise I think she kept hoping that Samantha would end up with Farmer Ted. I have no words. JAKE RYAN!!! So hot. Feel free to throw your support behind Jake and I in the comments section. Because, really. Jake Ryan is so hot.
I made her watch the final kissing over the cake scene a couple of times and then sent her on her way home to her air conditioned apartment while I showered off New York grime and sweat and headed to bed.
Good times.
Monday, June 21, 2004
Reflections on Birthday Week
Celebrating for ten days in a row is exhausting even if there is a scheduled Birthday Week Day of Rest somewhere in there. And even if you have lots of cleaning, cooking, set up, moving and other assorted help from your awesome friends. It still leaves you tired beyond reason.
I have too many good friends that I frankly do not deserve. Friends who will humor me and buy me drinks and help me out with cleaning and moving heavy objects and all of it. And they'll do it even while I'm whining that they're too good to me. And they'll smile while doing it. I mean, Muffy, she came to seven different Birthday Week activities, helped me moved the 'futon' (thanks to you too, Vader), helped me clean my apartment, set up the swing and the hammock with me, arranged my backyard in a pleasing social manner. The woman was out of control. Muppet and her husband dragged themselves to four big events and sang Karaoke and made potato salad. Steph and Muffy loaned me their grill - actually bringing it over, manning it, cleaning it and taking it home. They also bought me a swing. And way too many drinks. And a watering can. And stuff. Other people sang to me at karaoke. They humored my giant ego by telling me I rocked and bought me 'It's All About Me' earrings (thanks Fran!) and came to events and made it all about me. Seriously. It's amazing. And for those who care; Steph came in second with six events. Then the Muppets with four (three for Mr. Muppet). And then Vader, Fran and Charlotte with three. I have to hand out prizes I think. Or owe them all my first born or something. Amazing people, my friends.
Being 30 does not mean that people won't want to sleep with me. Hee. Not that I would ever sleep with someone, Daddy. It's just nice to be wanted. You understand, right?
I'm actually a little freaked out about being 30. I thought that by celebrating it for 10 days and not hiding from it I was all mature and cooler than all the other 30 year olds and whatever and then it was June 19th and I have a little bit of "OH MY GOD I'M THIRTY" going on in the back of my head. It's not overpowering. But it's there. To all my other 30 year old friends, I apologize for any little superior thoughts I had. I am a smug asshole.
Turning 30 is apparently better than having a child turn 30. Thanks for that little bit of perspective, Pops.
Having friends and family humor you and support you as you turn 30 does not mean that they won't mock your sorry ass as you turn 30 and even after you turn 30. And yes. I do mean ALL OF YOU! You mean, wonderful people you.
Backyard parties are excellent. Having a backyard is excellent.
Vodka is excellent.
Your guests DO notice if you go off to try and take a nap in the hammock during a party. But they're polite and don't say anything about it. Though they do keep looking over until you feel bad and join the party again after thirty seconds.
When two of your friends go off to get you birthday cupcakes because they are awesome, it's entirely too easy to convince the rest of the party that they ran back home for a quicky. But then you feel really bad about it when they bring out the cupcakes and sing to you. Have I mentioned how cool my friends are?
Coney Island is a wonderful place.
Ed's Shirt can sometimes try and take over your Birthday Week. But it is only a shirt and so very little effort is required to regain Birthday Week control.
Hangovers are just as annoying at 30 as they are at 22 (when I had my first!!!!).
Mary-Kate and Ashley are just now 18. And I'm 30. I'm very, very old. But no one ever thought I looked kind of monkey-like as a child. I don't think. Mom?
The weather will cooperate when it has to. For Birthday Week. The Yankees will not. But I still love the Yankees.
Turning 30 has not kick-started my biological clock and I still don't want to settle down and do all that stuff. Woo.
I need to listen to more George Michael songs more often.
Jake Ryan is still hot and I don't care what Muffy and Charlotte say.
My coworkers are very strange and they think I'm a bit off as well.
I don't go out enough when it's not Birthday Week and I need to start hanging with my fabulous friends more often.
Socializing causes weight loss as well as being fun.
Okay, I think I've reflected enough. Now I have to get back to writing up the various days of Birthday Week. If I can even remember at this point what happened over the past ten days. Have I mentioned how exhausting Birthday Week is? Have I?
I have too many good friends that I frankly do not deserve. Friends who will humor me and buy me drinks and help me out with cleaning and moving heavy objects and all of it. And they'll do it even while I'm whining that they're too good to me. And they'll smile while doing it. I mean, Muffy, she came to seven different Birthday Week activities, helped me moved the 'futon' (thanks to you too, Vader), helped me clean my apartment, set up the swing and the hammock with me, arranged my backyard in a pleasing social manner. The woman was out of control. Muppet and her husband dragged themselves to four big events and sang Karaoke and made potato salad. Steph and Muffy loaned me their grill - actually bringing it over, manning it, cleaning it and taking it home. They also bought me a swing. And way too many drinks. And a watering can. And stuff. Other people sang to me at karaoke. They humored my giant ego by telling me I rocked and bought me 'It's All About Me' earrings (thanks Fran!) and came to events and made it all about me. Seriously. It's amazing. And for those who care; Steph came in second with six events. Then the Muppets with four (three for Mr. Muppet). And then Vader, Fran and Charlotte with three. I have to hand out prizes I think. Or owe them all my first born or something. Amazing people, my friends.
Being 30 does not mean that people won't want to sleep with me. Hee. Not that I would ever sleep with someone, Daddy. It's just nice to be wanted. You understand, right?
I'm actually a little freaked out about being 30. I thought that by celebrating it for 10 days and not hiding from it I was all mature and cooler than all the other 30 year olds and whatever and then it was June 19th and I have a little bit of "OH MY GOD I'M THIRTY" going on in the back of my head. It's not overpowering. But it's there. To all my other 30 year old friends, I apologize for any little superior thoughts I had. I am a smug asshole.
Turning 30 is apparently better than having a child turn 30. Thanks for that little bit of perspective, Pops.
Having friends and family humor you and support you as you turn 30 does not mean that they won't mock your sorry ass as you turn 30 and even after you turn 30. And yes. I do mean ALL OF YOU! You mean, wonderful people you.
Backyard parties are excellent. Having a backyard is excellent.
Vodka is excellent.
Your guests DO notice if you go off to try and take a nap in the hammock during a party. But they're polite and don't say anything about it. Though they do keep looking over until you feel bad and join the party again after thirty seconds.
When two of your friends go off to get you birthday cupcakes because they are awesome, it's entirely too easy to convince the rest of the party that they ran back home for a quicky. But then you feel really bad about it when they bring out the cupcakes and sing to you. Have I mentioned how cool my friends are?
Coney Island is a wonderful place.
Ed's Shirt can sometimes try and take over your Birthday Week. But it is only a shirt and so very little effort is required to regain Birthday Week control.
Hangovers are just as annoying at 30 as they are at 22 (when I had my first!!!!).
Mary-Kate and Ashley are just now 18. And I'm 30. I'm very, very old. But no one ever thought I looked kind of monkey-like as a child. I don't think. Mom?
The weather will cooperate when it has to. For Birthday Week. The Yankees will not. But I still love the Yankees.
Turning 30 has not kick-started my biological clock and I still don't want to settle down and do all that stuff. Woo.
I need to listen to more George Michael songs more often.
Jake Ryan is still hot and I don't care what Muffy and Charlotte say.
My coworkers are very strange and they think I'm a bit off as well.
I don't go out enough when it's not Birthday Week and I need to start hanging with my fabulous friends more often.
Socializing causes weight loss as well as being fun.
Okay, I think I've reflected enough. Now I have to get back to writing up the various days of Birthday Week. If I can even remember at this point what happened over the past ten days. Have I mentioned how exhausting Birthday Week is? Have I?
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