Oh man, whatta weekend. And BOY do my feetsies hurt like a mofe. The Smell train was being all fonky all weekend and only running to Lorimer, so I had to do the 25-minute trek from Bedford Ave. far too many times. Yeeeouch! And mildly spooky, but more on that in a bit.
So I spent Friday afternoon in a "Logo immersion" meeting, learning all about our new channel. Hip hip hooray. Then it was off to Josh's nonsurprise unbirthday party, an event commemorated by Josh's near-perfect elk-killing streak. Elks were slain and pepper-fuckers were consumed and we all chipped in and got Josh this original Maakies cartoon (Jed's wondrous idea) and it was lovely and touching and there was certainly a real moment of touchingness.
And then back to the boyfriend's house for awesomeness and some high seas action. See, the boyfriend has a lofted bed that I always call "the pirate ship" because when I was in nursery school, there was a lofted platform where you got to nap during naptime if your mother (or, in the odd case, father) was the helpermonkey for the day. I went to a "co-op" nursery school (in a church!) and there were always helpermonkey parents. Anyhoo. So, the pirate ship was a-rockin' and apparently there was too much a-knockin' on the neighbor's wall. Whoops. No more late-night piracy in bed, that means. Avast! Ahoy, mateys!
On Saturday we tackled the new money pit (aka "the new apt). We're doing this super-sounds-of-the-seventies striping thing against the wall -- the bottom half of the hallway and living room are "oklahoma wheat" in this kinda seventies/rollerdisco angled shape, and we're putting a stripe of brown and a stripe of orange on top of the "oklahoma wheat." ("grandfather clock" and "racing orange," to be exact). the whole design scheme was inspired by this merrimekko wall-hanging that hung over my parents' bed their whole married lives, until they moved to the condo. Noah loves it (Although apparently my parents hung it upside-down their whole lives -- Noah says the signature is on the bottom the other way. So.) And then we painted the bathroom "artichoke heart" green. We're going for a super done-up jungle theme -- we already have a jungle shower curtain, and we have all these pipes in there that we're going to paint like bamboo (anyone know how to paint pipes to look like bamboo?) and put monkeys and vines in there. The jungle bathroom. And now that it's "artichoke heart," we can call it the "artichoke heart of darkness." and if someone clogs the toilet, it will be the "stuffed artichoke." teehee.
Josh helped me choose the colors for my room -- it's "Milano Red" and "Japanese Koi." SOOOO very WWII, eh? It came out superintense -- my bed will be in the red side and my "office" area (Deskypoo -- to be purchased tomorrow at Ikea! WOO!) will be in the yellow half. And i have oh-so-much to do -- I have to install one of those closet organizer jazzys and stuff. The 'rents came in today to help us put up some shelving (we didn't trust ourselves) and my dad talked us out of drilling into our brick wall to install floor-to-ceiling bookshelves -- i think we're going to build our own. Are we that handy? Back in the dizzay, when i was all theatrey, i was a total handy person. I've lost faith in those abilities, but surely I can do it? I hope?
On Saturday, the boyfriend took me to this awesome hummus place and I was daunted by a plate of the most awesome hummus i've ever had. Then we went to a bar, where, randomly, this bar patron recognized me from "Britney's Most Shocking" and recognized the boyfriend from a shoot they did together. Small world (but I wouldn't want to paint it). Then we went to the divine Miss Meredith's party at "crime scene," a bar that's allegedly crime-scene/L&O themed but fails in the total theming department. I heart theme more than anything and I was sad it didn't measure up. But my work buddies were there, as well as not one but TWO Norwegian heckachopter pilots (does everyone in Norway fly heckachopters???)
And then I took the Smell home and had this bizarre incident -- I was walking home, and I have to cross McCarren Park to get there. either way, walking down bedford or driggs, you have to cross the park. and driggs is faster. and i noticed all these drunk guys at north 10th, right before the park. and so i just started walking. and i heard loud noises so looked back, and saw this little guy running. he looked like he was jogging, so i stepped to the side to let him pass. but then he slowed down, and stopped running right next to me.
And he said, 'it's not safe for a beautiful woman to walk home by herself, let me walk you home." and i said, "oh, no, really, i'm fine." but then he said, "there are bad men out there" (and by this time, i was FREAKED, but i was like, play it cool, girl), and he said, "so, you're really drunk?" And i said, "no, i'm not, actually. i'm totally fine." and he said, "there are drunk guys back there" and then he asked where I lived. And i said, "oh, a few blocks away, it's nothing." And he said, "no, no, i'll walk you home." and so, so as to prove that this was all normal, I started making smalltalk -- where are you from, what do you do, etc.?
And then he said, "where's your boyfriend?" and i said, "He has to go to LA so i'm just heading home to chill out with my roommate." and he said, "oh, so you already have a boyfriend?" and i said, "yes." and then we finally got across the park and he kept walking with me, and i said, "really, i'm just a few blocks away" (Because i didn't want him to walk me home b/c i didn't know what i'd do when i got to the door -- there were all those cases of people being raped in theiy foyer/entryways in the Burg last year, and I was like: "i'm sure this is a good person but i am too freaked out to let him walk me all the way home, ack ack ack!"
And so finally I pretended to know someone in a bar we were passing, and I thanked him and said goodbye and he turned around. And i waited a little while, and then walked home. I'm SURE he was a truly good person, but I was sooooo wary. Dammit, I was wearing a dress -- does being in a skirt or dress make me seem more femme-y and thus more helpless? Was he really a good person? I'm so conditioned to expect the worst from people ... I hate that, as a chick, I get scared walking home alone, whereas my male roomie never does. GROWL! That sense of fear and helplessness makes me feel gross and icky -- I mean, in theory, I could've kicked the guy; I took Tae Kwon Do and I was taller than him. But is it horrible that I suspected the worst? That I couldn't believe that a random stranger would care so much about my welfare that he would insist on walking 20 minutes out of his way to make sure I was safe? Am I a horrible person for being freaked out?
But I arrived home safe 'n' sound -- schwoo. And woke up to do more apt stuff and then interview Michael Buble for AOL -- he's rather charming and funny, despite being a Canadian neo-Sinatra. I like him on our "I Love the" shows and I think he has a neat voice -- he makes it all seem so easy.
And now I'm whooped. WHOOPED! And we're getting up early and heading to Ikea. The big move happens on Saturday -- less than a week til we're outta the 'Point and into Chelsea. And I can wake up to Chelsea Mornings every day. Hip hip hooray!