301: weather girls

May 22: It’s just past 11 in the morning, and I’m already sweating profusely. Maria and I are on Randall’s Island for her double-header. I’m disappointed that the field where we are doesn’t have a restroom anywhere. I’m sitting next to Stephanie, the Newport-smoking girlfriend of Ephram, the straight ringer on Maria’s softball team. When the game starts, the old guys on the team (all schoolteachers, and all delightful) yell instructions from the bench. Someone gets hit in the head with a runaway bat, so Stephanie and I move farther away from the field and sit under a tree. We smoke, chat, and fantasize about cooling off at the beach. It is almost 90 degrees in the shade, so I cheer up a bit when the ice cream truck comes. And then the food truck returns, and Maria gives me some money to buy bottled water for everybody on the team. The team loses one game, ties the second (I think), and everybody goes home to shower before Donny’s party that evening.

Donny’s apartment in Brooklyn, on President Street below Third Avenue, is adorable. His roommate has the basement as her bedroom, while he sleeps in a room on the first floor. Chic shelves hold bobbleheads and baseball collectibles. A huge yard full of folks chowing down on burgers and beer and brownies. There is a dog begging for scraps, but I just scratch his head as I listen to the old timers go over the day’s games and talk about their upcoming trip to Montreal. I make Maria go talk to girls (half the guests were girls from Donny’s roommate’s lesbian softball team). I turn into a pumpkin around midnight, so I left Maria at the party and take the subway home with Kevin.

May 23: Get up for breakfast with Nadine and Maria at Dojo on St. Marks Place. Coming out of the subway station, a man wearing a straw coolie hat stops Maria to tell her how beautiful I am. And then he tells me himself, for which I thank him while I slowly edge away. Maria thinks it’s great, but the man’s sweaty forehead, and the fact that he’s carrying a bunch of stuff in a dirty Duane Reade shopping bag puts me off a bit. We have to wait a while for Dojo to open for breakfast, so we walk down the street and get something to drink try on hats at some of the stalls on the corner ogle the nameplate belts walk around in the hot sun then return to Dojo to breakfast only to be seated next to a group of sullen yuppies who eavesdrop on our conversation until we leave to try on t-shirts at American Apparel until I have to leave Maria and Nadine to go uptown to hail a cab to the airport through awful traffic up over Triboro Bridge and the traffic which gets better once we get to Queens and then I am at La Guardia where I overtip my cab driver opt not to buy an “I Love NY” ashtray in favor of the Sunday Times which doesn’t fit in the seat pocket on the plane so I us it as a pillow while the girl sitting next to me elbows me as she read “The Da Vinci Code” until we land at O’Hare and I ride the blue line all the way home.

May 28: Late shift on a Friday night but I don’t care because I’m meeting folks to see “Shrek 2” after work. The movie was hilarious, and I wanted to sit through it again but instead we went to PJ Clarke’s where a waitress fell down some stairs and splattered mustard all over me. The manager tells me to have my clothes dry cleaned and bring him the bill, which I haven’t done yet but I will totally do as my raincoat and my favorite gray cardigan still smell like French’s.

May 30: I love rain as much as the next indie girl, but Sunday’s rain was fucking ridiculous. And I had no idea where my umbrellas were, so I walked the six blocks to the Osco on Milwaukee to buy a new umbrella, and get some chips for Kathy’s barbecue at the Supafriends Hall of Justice (aka her apartment in Woodlawn). The rain was so awful that I decided to take a cab to her place once I could find one. But a cab never came. I took the bus to the Loop and there were cabs but that’s when my cheapness set in so I took the lovely green line to 63rd & Cottage Grove. When I got to Kathy’s apartment, she asked me if I saw any of the knuckleheads that usually hang out on Cottage Grove. When I replied no, she chuckled and snarked that they must think they’re going to melt in the rain. Bwa ha ha ha ha.

Thom was already there, so we settled down. Kathy prepped food for the grill while Thom and I convalesced with beverages and VH1 on the telly. Adrienne and then Tony and Tasneem appeared with board games, so we played Uno and talked smack. Pam arrived, and we played even after the first round of food was ready as we had to finish the game. We ate, watched VH1’s list of 100 Greatest 1-Hit Wonders. When the video for “It’s Raining Men” came on, Thom remarked? joked? that it had made him gay. And when the video for The Mary Jane Girls’ “My House” came on, Thom looked at one of the group’s members and said fondly “I miss that trashy white bitch!” I nearly choked with laughter. Kathy finally kicked me and Thom out at 10pm, after making her and Pam watch a few episodes of Degrassi. Thom dropped me off at the Garfield stop on the red line, and I got home in time to watch a few more episodes of Degrassi before I went to bed.

May 31: Bongo Room. Seated at the last booth are me, Rozi, Andrew, Jeremy, and Helen. The intermittent rain forces those people waiting for a table to stand indoors so we linger over brunch, scrutinized by a gaggle of underweight Trixies who seem on the verge of buckling under the weight of their Marc Jacobs knockoff handbags. I order a large glass of Pimm’s and strawberry lemonade with my breakfast burrito, and the table shares an order of chocolate French toast stuffed with bananas and mascarpone cheese, covered with chocolate shavings and mocha sauce. It was delicious, and acts as a sort of birthday cake for Rozi, whose birthday is the next day. After breakfast, the boys listen to records at Reckless while Rozi, Helen, and I walk to City Soles to try on overpriced shoes. There were a few heels stamped with Hello Kitty and the Rolling Stones lips logo, run through with safety pins and overstitching, but I just wasn’t feeling it. On the way back to the car, Andrew and Rozi ran into a classmate from law school who I felt was attractive in a post-nerd sort of way. I kept this to myself, though. After bidding Jeremy & Helen goodbye, we went to see “Shrek 2”. And yes, I did watch it again, albeit with less buttery popcorn dropped in my lap.

June 1: Post-work drinks with Jill D., who has just moved back to college after doing the banking thing in New York for a few years. She’s crashing at her brother’s until she finds a place of her own. We go to the Map Room because they have a free “international” buffet on Tuesday nights, though we don’t end up partaking. We catch up, talk about friends and acquaintances in common, jobs, bars in the neighborhood, and what I thought was missing from my registration packet at reunion last year — a diagram of everybody in our class, and who had crushes on whom and when. I blame my friend Nate for telling me at the end of my third year in college that, come Senior Week, I’d be confronted with various people pledging their love so we could make out at Jimmy’s one last time before everybody went their separate ways. And I think such a diagram would answer so many questions, and bring so much closure to nostalgic fools like me.

Cheers,
Jasmine

PS: Flip front turns 4 in July. I sent out no. 300 yesterday. I may or may not have a party. Stay tuned . . .

*songs*
Eurhythmics – Sisters Are Doing It For Themselves (I once got into a huge fight with Emily Crowe, late of St. Louis and the Michigan Women’s Music Festival, over whether or not Aretha Franklin sang on this song); Donovan – Colours; Ryan Adams – Wonderwall (sorry, Jeremy)

*links*
http://www.classzpass.com
http://www.chicagoist.com/archives/2004/06/02/time_out_digs_in.php

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~ by Jasmine on June 2, 2004.

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