My two main goals in life are: a) eat and drink in excess and b) stay skinny. You would think that those two agendas are diametrically opposed and that is because you would be right. But such is the leitmotif of my life. The battle between the devil on my shoulder and the angel. Saint vs sinner. Moderation vs excess. Going home vs going on a journey for pizza.

Friday
My friends and I go to Brooklyn to check out the Cold War Kids show at Prospect Park.

But before the show we hit up Alchemy for some local brews and small plates. Ooh and fyi they have the most delicious (and potent) pomegranate margaritas! Lets go again, please!



Here is a not so good picture of the concert. Be impressed with my photog skills!



Lovely ladies in summer dresses


Chillin after the show.


Jigga what?


Well, helloooooo

After the show we head to the Sam Champion after party (the BAND not the weatherman). We walk into the apartment and I am immediately assaulted by the smell of summer sweat and walk out. Um, as a group, you people don’t smell so hot.

So Sabs and I head over to to Barbes for some more summer cocktails.


Around 12:30 I get a text from the bearded guy I met the other nite. He asks what I am up to. At this point, Sabs and I are leaving the bar in search for some pizza. So I respond: In Brooklyn looking for pizza. Party at Nurse Bettie tomorrow. Come!

And then we basically have a back and forth texting convo of him asking if I wanna meet up and me responding: I’m still looking for pizza!

Here’s an interrupting thought: Why is it that looking for pizza at 1 in the morning always turns into an Odyssean journey???
Why can’t a girl just get a slice? Why must life be so difficult???

Anyway, Sabs and I finally find an open pizza joint and sit on the stoop of a lovely brownstone and eat our luscious slice. I eat mine so quickly that I burn the roof of my mouth. Whoops.

I get one more text from the bearded guy asking if I want to come over to his hood. I guess the devil in me would have gone over and do the indecent things that people do at that indecent hour but I am old and lazy and would much rather hang out on a stoop with my girl than trek it to another part of Brooklyn for booty. I am really maturing!

Anyway, now I don’t feel so bad for my embarrassing texting fiasco from Wednesday because it seems like he has a propensity for drunk texting too. Great.

Saturday
So I end up sleeping over Sabbie’s place instead. We have a lovely brunch at Stone wall Cafe? I forget the name.

We talk about how you can’t go to wine bars to meet cute guys because hetero dudes never hang out at wine bars even though those places are teeming with single girls. Fyi, gentlemen, you should go to Tapeo 29. Lots of ladies there! See how I pimp you out?

So then where do cute guys my age hangout? Because every single guy I have met this year has been at least 25 or under. Where are all the guys my age??? Oh, wait, they’re already married. Or playing X box at home.

Later that evening, I head to Nurse Bettie for a chill reggae/surfer party. I run into my friend Prom Date. Evidently, he left his credit card there the other night and had to come back to retrieve it. That is so funny because another friend of mine did the exact same thing at Nurse Bettie last week. Yup, these are my friends.

Then I meet up with Dave for some weird cocktail concoction of Vita Coconut Water and rum. Hey, at least it has electrolytes!


Here is Asif playing the guitar.

Bitch, please.


Old Schoolers.

The fellas leave to go to another bar and I head off for my pizza slice(s).

Sunday
It’s rainy and yucky out so I decide to stay in. I have this Sunday evening ritual of ordering Chinese food and watching a movie. Except this night I am watching the Jon and Kate Plus Eight marathon on tv because I am obsessed with shows that have cute babies!!

So Dave calls and asks what I am doing.

I tell him I’m watching Jon and Kate Plus Eight.

He says, “Okay, sounds like you need to get out of the house.”

So we meet up for dinner at Yuca and have a lovely discussion about how porn may have diminished the way men view women in terms of seeing them as disposable and replaceable objects.

Lovely.

Then we talk about how people’s inability to communicate gets in the way of dating. How we have so many methods of communication but we still don’t know how to talk to each other.

Anyway, I thought I’d end this blog post with a Rumi poem I read the other day that I thought was really precious.

“The minute I heard my first love story I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was. Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They’re in each other all along.”

It’s kinda like how I am constantly searching for my glasses, looking everywhere around the apartment, wondering where the hell they could be, only to discover that they have actually been on my face all along.

So we can derive two important lessons from this:

1. Maybe if we just relax and trust ourselves, the universe will just give us what we need when the timing is right.

2. I need to change the prescription of my glasses.