Last Thursday I was going to post and the post would have looked like this:

I heart boys. Office make out boy is back today and brought in cute little gifts for moi. And by gifts I mean the free swag from his first class flight back to the US. Also I got a scarf that apparently is going to help me attract the Euros come winter time. Also the bad spanish soap opera continued with me being bent over the desk at one point. So bad, yet so good.

Then I was going to post on Friday, but instead I got drunk after work. In any case the post would have looked like this:

I do not heart boys. Office make out boy has some sort of new ignoring agenda going on and I do not approve. I understand the whole need for secrecy, but come on. Regan and Castro had more communication during the 80s then we had. To top it off as we were leaving the building he just crossed the street with out so much as a later gator. I have hurt feelings.

Saturday rolled around and again I didn't post because instead I got drunk. The evening started out with a little smoke in the park with a snack of pico de gallo. It was down hill from there. By the end of the evening we had left a burlesque club in disgust because of the lack of boobies and were recounting out first anal sex experiences. I'm not sure how a bunch of girls with such sweet looking faces can be so utterly filthy. I was going to use the adjective raunchy there, but once you bring in anal sex I believe you must then begin using filthy. Then I got home at 5am.

And I was going to post on Sunday, but you know the drill. I got drunk instead. After a very sparse 5.5 hours of sleep I awoke to meet the gang for brunch in Inwood. An all you can drink brunch. I got drunk again. Then we bought the newspaper, sat in the park and smoked (or should I say the usual smokers smoked) and ate ice cream. It was so fun.

And now it's Monday and I plan on staying sober for at least 2 days in a row. Below are some pictures,courtesy of resident photographer Bauwhore, from Sunday.


Carolyn was out till the wee hours. Can you tell?



Eamon and Cate were not out till 4:30am. You can tell. They look happy.


I'm drinking to ward off a hangover.


What a good looking group of kids.


This is Emily "Bringing the Sexy Back" as Justin Timberlake would say.


Walky walk to the park.


This is my evil "Want some ice cream little boy" face. It's also my "It's Sunday and I'm burnt" face.

So a while back me and a friend were like lets plan a vacation. Fun girls vacation. We mulled over a few diff ideas and agreed upon Chicago. She knew someone we could crash with and it seemed like a brilliant idea. Almost free vacation.

Now I'm really having anxiety about it. All the sudden our girls vacation has turned into a "p.s. we are going to hang out with various boys I like in Chicago" vacation. So one kid is meeting us at the airport, then we are meeting up with another one on Saturday and then going to some party w him. Being 3rd wheel is really not my idea of fun. I love the girl I'm going away with, she is so rad. However her friends in the past have proven to be less than accepting of anyone they deem not cool enough. I'm so not a fan of people who are not nice. I have many friends here who have been open and accepting of me and my friends that I'm not into too cool for school people anymore.

I tried to slip the fact that I'm not really comfortable with this planing out my vacation for me without including me in the planning. But it didn't fly.

I guess worst case I can go and do my own thing, but wasn't the point supposed to be friend fun?

Where I'll be tomorrow:



Scarsdale Golf Club bitches. Oh yeah...

I'm going to try and have the digital camera up and running so I can take photos!

As promised a pictorial update of my life the past few weeks:

I arrive early to work for golf day. I am less than pleased at being up so early.


I'm more pleased now that I'm sitting on a veranda reading.


I am most pleased once I have a beer and put my feet up.


And once I break the seal this is where I pee.


I decide to mix it up for pee #2. This is the other bathroom. I feel like I'm at my rich Grandma's house (if I had one).


Then the girls and I are going out to dinner. Emily looks like she is about to reprimand me.


Cate plays innocent after glass #5 of sangria. I do not encourage that type of behavior.


Joyce's Birthday. She is happy.


Everyone loves a drinking party in Brooklyn.


If manna from heaven could be a drink it would be this. Jameson, ice tea, honey and lemon.


Notice Joyce's birthday starts during the day and now it's dark. This is how long we've been sitting drinking.


Finally we take the party back to Joyce's. But wait Carolyn is around and we need an adventure. So we spy on a charming old wood worker listening to Patsy Cline.


He has no email address so we can not email him our spy pictures.


I need a day of rest. So I chillax on the rooftop.


I decide to walk home.


I come upon some b boys and a b girl at union square.


I also stumble upon my new motto.


All of this activity has give me attack of the hives.


Again for your viewing pleasure.

Whew, all of that wore me out.