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2001-05-07 :: 9:36 a.m.
Yesterday, laying on a huge blanket with Sandra and Laura and their dogs and my dog, reading and eating cold pasta and lazing and Laura was painting a model set of Lost in Space and the sun was perfect and browned shoulders just right and Stoosh-doggie, she even took a nap... it was lazy perfect warm. Soprano Sunday wouldn't be just right without Lombardi's pizza and Tallboy and later on, Margaritas baby, and he let me pick the songs, could you please make this easier, you're too nice, you're too cool, if you hold my hand I will die, and all that surrounds that. Saturday was all about my girls and Baraza on 7th and C and Mojitas and salsa dancing with strange men with strange accents with strange interludes and "He's about as subtle as a bag of flying hammers," says Ruby so of course we had seventy good laughs and pizza at four in the morning on St Marks with some bruised and scratched up skater kid, eyes like seaweed green, tan cheeks, you know you can't be more than eighteen and perfectly corruptable and he scoped the scene and we made jokes and made his friend snarf soda and it was a fun twenty minutes so Trixi says "We'll just leave you right where we found you, kid," and we'll go park ourselves exhausted on Ruby's couch, feets tingling. Friday you just gotta get with Tallboy's urge for lemon drops at Good World where DJ spins insanely funny songs like Bell Biv Devoe's "Poison" and you just try to stop yourself from singing, you just try, go right ahead. It was that really awful hot night where the fan in his apartment just blew scorched air around and the AC wasn't installed yet, but a game of backgammon on his fire escape lit by an Itty Bitty Book Light and I'm the reigning Queen, undisputed champ, he may have let me won, but I have my doubts. What I don't doubt is that he's very close to almost mine, and this fact has me teetering on the fence alongside RSE; we find ourselves together even when we're apart, you know. I thought about him exactly only now. |