Unexpected Pleasures

Well, what a nice week.

There I was on Wednesday, minding my own business, trying to take a nap about 12:30 pm (due to a slight hangover brought about by hanging out with my kid on Tuesday), when a text message popped up, saying Can you be at Steiner (i.e., Steiner Studios in Brooklyn) by 3 pm for Boardwalk? Well, of COURSE I can. I thought it was a costume fitting (I'm in need of a summer costume for this season), but no, it was actual work. Yay!

It was painful actual work. The scene was somebody beating somebody up in a men's room in a below ground speakeasy, and what we were doing was walking back and forth on a catwalk above this bathroom...I presume the intent was to show that this brutal thing was going on and we were all oblivious and just walking around on the sidewalk. The result is that I must let you know which episode my ankles are starring in.

The painful part comes in where they had a metal bar connecting the two sides of the catwalk on one end, into which we all walked at one point or another, except of course my pal Marissa, who's about 4'10" and could walk right under it. Problem was, at various points I was supposed to be talking to her as I walked, so of course since she didn't duck...yup. Clang. In the van coming back to the city, we all decided that we were going to have T-shirts made: I Got Concussed On Boardwalk Empire! And the best thing about it was that in the middle of the day I got an email asking me if I was available for this coming Tuesday for Boardwalk.

Then Thursday my pal Jiggers played a set at the Bistro, so I went there again, and met a bunch of the people from his job at the New York City Ballet (fund raising phone work). Great group.

Friday night I was hanging out at home around 6:15 or so, tastefully attired in my sweats with my hair hanging in my face (always elegant, that's me), when the phone rang and it was Jiggers, saying that he had an extra ticket for the ballet at Lincoln Center that night! You have never seen such a quick transformation scene. Off with the sweats, into the shower, on with the good dress and shoes, comb the hair, slap makeup on the face...and out the door to find myself sipping champagne on the terrace at Lincoln Center by 7:40 pm. We saw Jewels...it was wonderful.

So it was a delightfully unexpected week...may there be more of them!

And I found the absolutely best thing in the New York Post, in their Strange But True column. Seems there was an arrest in Naples, Florida at a children's birthday party, where one woman bit another (what interesting children's parties they must have in Florida). Now I quote:

"The woman initially denied she did it, but she was identified as the biter - because she was the only person at the party with a full set of teeth, according to police."

As you can imagine, this just made my day.

Now I have to do something about this damn apartment. You would not believe the mess I've managed to get it into. (Well, actually, if you've known me for a while, yes, you would.) I decided that I should really get the books in some sort of order so I can find things when I want them, and to that end most of the books are now out of the shelves and all over the place. Then I found some boxes because I threw out my original moving boxes, and I'm still trying to get it together to pack up Sarah's stuff, and of course until I do that I won't have the space on the shelves and in the closet in the other bedroom, and...all of this gives rise to an uncontrollable urge to lie down and read a book. I don't think God ever intended me to keep a house, because I'm really quite lousy at it. Clearly I'm a person who was made to have many servants. Unfortunately, until my staff appears, I'm going to have to do something about this wreck myself, damn it.

And did I mention that there's a pile of ironing to be done, too? And the kitchen to be properly organized? Oy. Ah, well...I'll get to it tomorrow. Right now I'm going to read for a while. Well, gee, it's just about ten past eight. That's nearly nine, which is almost ten, and you wouldn't want me to start cleaning in the middle of the night, would you?

Love, Wendy