This was my second time seeing TheGates. I warned RR about not getting her hopes up.
Maybe I just don't like orange.
Here are some pictures:
Picture of pictures of TheGates:
Some people and some gates:
Some more people and some more gates:
"I am contemplating the deeper meaning of The Gates....
"... and I have decided that The Gates are totally, like, the best thing EVER!"
RR has much better photos, which I will post whenever she gets a chance to send them to me.
I'll also have photos, most likely a plethora of panoramas, to post after my parents' visit this coming weekend.
After TheGates, RR and I tried to go to the MOMA but failed miserably because of the crowds. Mobs. Insanity. We went to the Folk Art Museum instead, where we fell in love with The Blue Exhibit. I had a Sal Moment during which I almost thought it acceptable to photograph something at the museum. In the Blue Exhibit, they had a collection of various blue pigments with which I fell in love. Luckily RR has a high tech camera phone, and managed to covertly take this for me:
We then headed back to The Loft where we mutually experienced pre-party anxiety. I am so glad she was there to maintain some degree of sanity as I went through the normal emotions of pre-party panic followed by "what to wear" trauma followed by inability to function for the hour prior to and after the start of the party.
My main concern with this function was quantity. Because nobody from work responded to my invitation, I had no idea if anyone was coming. None. How do you plan a function when you have zero concept of the amount of attendees? My estimate was approximately 10 people, which ended up being the case.
But of course I was having the following panic attacks:
1. What if nobody came? It wouldn't be the end of the world because I'd have fun with D and RR no matter what.
2. What if everybody came and there was not enough food or alcohol?
3. What if people came and nobody had fun?
4. What if people came and they all hated each other?
5. What if what if what if things culminated in my crying at my own party?
The only portion of the list that ended up being relevant was, sadly, number 5.
The party ended up being just the right mixture - too much alcohol plus not enough karaoke plus missing my girlfriends plus cock blocking plus vile and attention-needy girls plus patient boys plus feeling like an outcast and not feeling like a queen on one's birthday - for misdirected tears.
All I have to say is that I am so lucky to have such wonderful girls. I have decided that I don't need new friends, because I already have the most amazing friends in the world. I love that they calm and validate the tears and know just what to say, because they know me.
Man. I am so tired.
These entries are so incoherent. I haven't slept much over the past week. I'd intended to sleep tonight but the blog takes priority! I guess its fitting that the entries are all over the place, because so was the weekend.
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