"Hot summer streets//And the pavements are burning
I sit around//Trying to smile but//The air is so heavy and dry
Strange voices are saying//(What did they say)//Things I can't understand
It's too close for comfort//This heat has got//Right out of hand"
- Cruel Summer, Bananarama
The weekend, summery:
- Brownouts in my building caused my air conditioner to blow fuses a couple of times, but unlike some, I was not substantially effected by the blackouts in Astoria. Unlike local gay bar, Albatross, which has had some difficulties. Granted good neighbors can always turn their lemons into lemonade.
- The final Snaxx of the summer was Friday night at Westside Tavern. Not met by whom was expected, solace was found in several other burly boys and my dear friend Jack Daniels. Props go out to the staff of Westside Tavern that handled my call the next morning regarding the loss of the battery cover of the cell phone very well. Props also to the staff of the Tribeca Grand who were able to navigate this question: "Well, I know the room number was 503, and the name, was, um, Tom, maybe?"
- Warm Up was more an opportunity to visit the new exhibitions at P.S. 1 than a chance to dance. The exhibits were, well, tamer than what P.S. 1 offered pre-MOMA, although the exhibit of body mutilations found more than just me running out of the room.
- The outdoor courtyard space is much more logically arranged this year, but it seemed as if this weekend's event caught the museum hosts by surprise. Music was served in the indoor space, as was the beer. A sweltering beer line wait was followed by the immediate pounding of two $6.50 Heinekens leaving a tipsy me holding the third for a while.
- Tolerance of roommates would allow for such amazing space, but at what age is it still acceptable to have a "roommate"?
- Note to the jittery/quiet table in the middle back of Metropolitan: When your friends arrive that might be in a different state of mind than you, at least try be conversant. Try.
- Is there anything more fun than doing dishes and vacuuming at 8:30 in the morning? And mopping? And (best for last) Swiffering? It would so totally work up a hunger, theoretically.
- Promise to self: next weekend try the beer blast at Boy's Room on Sunday. The beers are only $1.00 although you can't really see yourself biting into a burger grilled by Formika. Oh, self, who are you kidding? See you at the Eagle, you tawdry thing.
- Prioritize the following purchases for me, someone? Bicycle (for efficient travelling to various locales in Brooklyn), microwave (for time-efficient heating of food), bookshelves (for the efficient display of books to new friends), chairs (for not everyone wants to sit next to you on that hot new 10-foot sofa.)
(Shown in it's previous residence, not mine. Please, those floors?)
- A song in this case is just a song, as my summer has been far from cruel. In fact, it's chugging along rather sweet.
