The whole evening was fun, from getting ice cream to almost getting steamrolled in the parking lot from getting pizza to violent lagamorph card games to popcorn and an awesomely ridiculous movie. These girls are great. They also got to look through my Ward Directory! to see … people. Just people. What a great group of girls: really laid back, really smart, very different personalities. Instafriends, nonetheless. I’m glad they like me. I guess the friend who introduced us figured they would.

Thanks for coming over. Let’s do this again sometime, yeah?

But maybe a bonfire before then …

I’ll be attending a pajama party at some club south of Center Street with a few Frenchie freshies. After lunch at Cafe Rio, a few of us headed back to my apartment to speak a little more French. I don’t spend a lot of time in my living room, but I got to looking around and saw some poker chips tucked away on a bookshelf. So after we talked a bit, I asked the group if they wanted to play poker, so I got out the chips and some cards and we played a few hands. Of course it’s totally different than playing online poker in the middle of a computer lab. Um. Then one of the girls had to leave (it was me and two other girls and a guy), so we kept talking a little bit more, just in English, and I asked what else they wanted to do. The vote was for Wii Mario Kart. So we raced a few rounds of that, and it was a lot of fun. Then the other classmates received a text from a girl who couldn’t make lunch, so we talked just a little while longer before they left to go hang out with her. This girl, the one who couldn’t make it to lunch, just texted me about the party, and I just happened to come out of the shower and am in very modest pajamas: a t-shirt and warm pajama pants. So I said I’d come. They’ll be picking me up.

A lot is being left out of this entry: dialogue, banter. I’m still on a boy break, by the way. The other blog is clear on that.

Earlier in the day I did tell my classmates if they ever needed a chaperone, they can give me a call. Looks like they’re taking me up on the offer.

Sleep well, mes amis.

//

I’m a couple of days behind. Be sure to scroll down to check for backdated posts in the next few days.

Had a going away party this evening. It was fun. Having so many people you love get together and laugh brings me great joy. I’m glad everyone seemed to have a great time.

Everyone’s gone now. The air has settled.

Tears are freely flowing.

Good night.

And we walked to avoid the Parade for Puerto Rican Day
And we threw back and forth some wordplay
And it made me wish even more in New York I could stay
And is it fair to rhyme day with today?
And we had something to eat after we found our way
And then he went to see if he could watch the Yankees play
Or whatever it is they do, whatever they say
Because that’s not baseball, so we should pray
That their luck changes to match their outrageous pay.

***
So we said goodbye and hugged. And I got pretty emotional crossing Lexington Avenue at 42nd Street. *Sniff*

I’ve had a headache since Friday, and today I took some medicine and drank a caffeinated beverage to alleviate the pressure. It took a while for these chemicals to kick in, but once it did, I was a bit more laughy and eager to learn the Oompa Loompa dance from that Willy Wonka movie.

Then, mostly against my will, I watched Dirty Dancing 2: Havana Nights. If you want an incredible ensemble cast with a decent cameo and amazing acting, please do NOT watch this movie. If you would like to know how to express your utter happiness when you’ve found true Cuban, latin-dancing love, find another flick. Or write your own. And have your friends be the actors. Because the movie you make would be so much better than what I saw. I don’t know. Maybe I’m being too harsh.

Then I went back uptown to a potluck dinner. I came just in time for games. We played one of those question games where you had to guess who wrote the answers.

At this party I learned a lot of stuff about people!
First celebrity crushes were:
Ricky Shroeder
Bon Jovi
Jennifer Connelly
Casper the Friendly Ghost
Christian Slater
Kirk Cameron
etc.

First tapes bought with one’s own money were:
Bon Jovi (not the same who crushed on him, who happened to be a guy)
Vivaldi’s Four Seasons
Billy Joel’s Stormfront
Beauty and the Beast
Soundtrack
Weird Al Yankovic
etc.

Animals people wanted to be:
Eagle
Eagle
Cat
Dolphin
Killer Whale
Manta Ray
Lamb
A dead animal
etc.

I also learned what a zebra sounds like. That was fabulous.

Can you guess which of those are mine? My first celebrity crush? The first tape I bought with my own money? The animal I want to be? Can you guess which ones are Becky’s?

So I have this friend. She’s kind of a new friend; I’ve only known her about a month. Her name is Deena. She’s one of Becky’s roommates. She’s managed to find a nice little niche in our ever so exclusive clique. She couldn’t bribe us to join, so she convinced us she could be a backup dancer for Mechanical VIOLET. Anyway, Friday night we’re all hanging out at Becky’s and Becky had to work late, remotely from home with her Blackberry, holstered to the back of her jeans, but in order to keep from falling asleep in front of the television we decided to go for a short stroll around Herald Square. My former neighborhood. With my former neighbors, the tourists. I love the thrill, the freedom of doing silly things in public, and it doesn’t lose its magic in a place where it’s accepted as perfectly normal. But we might have gone a smidge too far when we decided to talk to some pedicab drivers, who then decided they wanted our phone numbers. I mean, they already knew our names because we told them, and they already copped feels on our calves. You know, to make sure we were in good enough shape to drive a pedicab. Because that’s always been a career option for me. So, we pretty much had no choice but to come back (escape) to Becky’s apartment and have one of the best dance parties I’ve ever attended. And Deena pretty much sealed her position as our backup dancer.

Deena tells the story much better

Also, be very impressed with Becky’s photo editing skills.

Don’t forget to watch the video. But I’m also giving you the choice to forget watching it.

She sat at her computer. She’d been thinking all day what she could do. It was Saturday afternoon, November 15, 2008. Her mom and stepdad had left just the day before. She threw a pretty big party three days ago. That was a lot of fun.

It had been a little more than two weeks since her interview. Her officer told her she passed the test, but she was anxious because for some reason she had two (2) alien registration numbers. Why would she have two? She didn’t even know about that second number until her interview. Her mind raced, her heart seemed to stop. It was 1982; she was six years old. She wasn’t supposed to worry about her status in America.

She brought her thoughts back to the present. She was going to a party that evening. It was going to be variety-show style. She considered only showing up as a spectator, but it sounded most everyone was going to perform. The butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She knew she had to do something.

She had an idea of what she would do. She spent the rest of the afternoon working on her act. She paced the words. She tried different speeds until one felt right. She snapped her fingers.

She took a shower.

She put on a cute shirt and her good jeans.

She did her makeup.

She stepped out and hopped on the subway uptown.

She arrived at the party destination. People were still setting up the living room. There was a posterboard that listed those who wanted to perform. Someone asked her where she wanted to be in the lineup. She said she wanted to be somewhere in the middle. She announced she’d be doing a recitation.

Everyone could make up a name tag. The name tags needed to say “I am [something positive and catchy].”

She put on her name tag. 

img_4825

The party started.

There was speed drawing.

And song spoofing.

And sign language.

And magic tricks.

And “Thriller” dancing.

She followed the (American) Pledge of Allegiance in French.

She introduced her act by saying she was going to stay with the patriotic theme. She announced her successful interview. The crowd clapped. She said she was going to recite the Preamble to the Constitution. She said she would love it if the crowd accompanied her by humming “God Bless America.”

She snapped her fingers. The humming began.

We the people.

The humming continued.

Promote the general Welfare.

The humming came close to ending.

She decided to slow it way down, since she started too fast.

DO! ORDAIN! AND ESTABLISH! THIS! CONSTITUTION! FOR THE! UNITED STATES! OF! AMERICA!

My home sweet home.

Many cheers from the crowd. She pumped her fists in the air. The applause was loud. She felt proud. She thanked everyone. She gave a few high fives and sat down quickly.

The following act was a Russian revolutionary chant.

Of course it was.

***

SO close, people. Hours away, really. Exciting!

A string of white lights hang in an apartment. The apartment has four walls that are mirrors from floor to ceiling. The apartment has a closet whose doors have mirrored panels. This apartment is nearly empty, save for a table and chairs and a television and a Wii and some speakers and a Cuddlebag and a rug. Some party food sits along the ledge of the northwest window. Some soda sits in the refrigerator.

The apartment waits. It’s ready for a big party to happen.

New Year’s Eve.

We will party. We will nosh. We will fizzy-drink. We will Wii. We will dance.

2009, here we come.

2009. Oh, my gosh.

Am I even ready?

I made Becky take some photos of me before the pretty party. Note two major seldom occurrences: Curled hair and stilettos. This may not happen in this combination again for at least another year. Kind of like the conjunction of the moon, Venus and Jupiter from two weeks ago. Or like last night’s proximity of the moon to the earth. Did y’all know about the largest full moon of the year last night? It was like a floodlight or the one beam from the mothership ready to take me up. The roof of the pretty party was the perfect romantic setting, cold enough to have some dashing man remove his tuxedo jacket to keep me warm and then embrace me from behind while we gaze at the moon and then into each other’s eyes, our heads, like orbs around a star, gravitating toward a midpoint as a winter’s heavenly kiss. No such thing happened, though. I don’t know why, because wouldn’t you want to smooch the lady below? Click on the photos for the closeup. At your own risk, of course.

Two parties tonight. I went to them.

I’ve been congested for the past two days.

Then talking loudly has made me very hoarse.

My head. I can’t describe the sensation in my head.

I have pictures of me looking pretty for the parties.

I’ll post those tomorrow. I’ll be more coherent then.

Right now, I feel I could sleep forever.

Meds. Sleep. Fluids.

Ready, go.

Taken on Wednesday, November 12, 2008.
I apologize to those of you who didn’t fit in the photo.  

party-add1

Front Row, L-R:
Sonya: my fellow Obama supporter and Jon Stewart fan.
Craigh and Linda: now live out of state, want to attend the swearing in, whenever that is
Arly: I’m really sorry your mouth looks like that. I know your hair is thicker than I drew it, too
Tom: never smiles for photos; may be a little tired, as the party went past 9pm
Ted: the beard is a good look on him; he likes talking politics and movies
Sarah: I would have loved for her to make a nice cake with pretty fondant for the party
Jenny: your hair looks fabulous short
Duane: way to go with the red shirt, and way to look ultra smart in those glasses

Second row, L-R:
M-A: one of my favorite bloggers and funny, beautiful moms
Leolani: Mom talked about about her a lot after the party; she was probably her favorite
Andrea HM: one of my favorite funny people, ate about 10 sliders
Amy: Becky’s cousin, and one of my personal heroes
Mom: considerably taller than Tom and Ted
Scott: theater man with a day job; appropriately dressed in a blue tie
Andrea B: one of my favorite sweet and funny people; phenomenal baker and great writer; brought Twinkies
Paul B: Andrea B’s husband; in crazy love with his wife; probably the best man-nurse alive
Vicki J: one of my church crazy youth leaders; we got back in touch in the last few months

Third row, L-R:
Ross: Andrea HM’s husband; great teacher; got nearly all the civics questions right; brought American, chocolate chip cookies
Jamie: a former co-worker; brought me American, Godiva chocolates
Becky: roommate, one of my BFFs; taught me all I know about American runway walks
Ajay: the other roommate; said later how friendly and open my friends are
Bradley: a friend who likes higher maths; we used to go running together, in America
Andrew: brought animal crackers that included donkeys and elephants

Back row, L-R:
Garrett: curly hair, blue facial features; very sweet guy; mom loves his hair
Greg: old high school friend, lives near Chicago, we all should go American bowling again, yes?
Little Emmett: son of Greg and Beth; cute smile, right?
Beth: Greg’s wife, perfect and wonderful match for him
Barbara: one of my seminary teachers; quite a remarkable writer

Mom and I streamed the apartment in red, white, and blue. We nearly caught the apartment on fire, only because we wanted the FDNY to make a guest appearance. TOTALLY American. I gave a speech to you, America. I lost my notes, but I only wrote a few lines anyway. And I don’t remember what I said off the cuff. According to witnesses, it wasn’t too shabby. I praised you, America. I praised your citizens who are my friends and inspire me with their greatness. And, America, you clapped. And I felt immeasurably blessed.

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