Bruises, Paint, & Passports

Hey all. It's been awhile. I'll just do an update to start. Friday night I went to a birthday party at Mason Dixon where you can order beer by the bucket and ride a mechanical bull. Oh yeah, I rode that bull. I was going to post a picture but none of them look exciting. I lucked out because my only injuries are a small bruise the size of the tip of my finger on the inside of each thigh. Some people told me they have bruising all down their thighs. I did not ask to see.

After Saturday morning brunch with Casey I had a strong desire to spend time at the hardware store. Since it was pouring out I figured it was a good day to stay in the apartment and paint all the wood doors black. I picked up my supplies and spent the rest of the day priming and painting to my hearts content. The black glossy paint I used dried perfectly with a sheen that makes it look like I covered the doors in leather. Perfect! When I was done I laid back and enjoyed the fumes.

Sunday night I had a birthday party to attend at Beauty Bar. It's an interesting place where the walls are lined with old fashioned hairdryers. On Wednesdays you can get a free manicure when you purchase a martini. I find that sort of gross. The party turned into more of a photo shoot but we had a great time. I also considered posting a photo of this but I have a feeling my friends won't appreciate me posting photos of them on a public blog.

I called out of work on Monday due to feeling crappy and spent the entire day in bed. I could have used yesterday to accomplish so much more... but no.

Over the weekend I also received my passport. I keep staring at it and thinking I could just leave right now. I can get in a cab to JFK, charge a flight to a credit card and go wherever the hell I want. If only I didn't have to do things like, go to work and maintain a job so I can pay rent. I would also need to pay off that credit card. Is it worth it? I don't know.

Peep Show!

I just realized it's almost that time of year where children play with eggs and dye, eat shit loads of chocolate, and get easily distracted playing in the yard looking for things for hours. Since moving to New York I had never celebrated this holiday but last year we had a grand time. A lovely lady with the last name Eyster held Eyster Brunch. We all showed up and drank a lot per usual. William brought us eggs with scary pictures and lotto tickets inside. Someone brought a bodega baby Jesus candle so we lit it at the table for brunch and every bar we hit after. At some point we lost him in a gay bar with a stripper. Then we all stumbled back to our homes and tried to drink enough water to go to work the next day. It's a lot like St. Patrick's day come to think of it. *sigh* I miss those good old brunches we used to have. What happened to us? Did we all get too old? Did our livers give up? It's been a long time since I've woken up on Doodle's futon at 6am Monday morning realizing I have to go to work soon.