I was going to post a photo of some beautiful avocados cut in half and ready to go in an amazing guacamole, all laid out on sheets under the shade in Central Park, but I thought this picture was a little more interesting. It was a total accident including the megahunk in this photo of my friend Michelle Buteau. This picture is actually a part of a sequence that shows her playing some mean frisbee. As you can see here, she apparently saw me pointing the camera at her, so she mugged, but what she didn’t see was Mr. Muscles behind her. While the series of eight photos could be entitled “Michelle with the Frisbee,” it could also be called “A De-shirted Walk in the Park” or “The Need for Clothes” or “How Good Are You at Purging Unpure Thoughts from Your Mind?” Ahem. Because seriously? Seriously. Click on the photo for more shenanigans. Rated PG.
The last of Michelle’s annual summer picnics I attended was four years ago. I’ve missed a lot of her gigs, but I have caught her auditions on “Last Comic Standing.” I met some really great and funny people at the picnic. It’s nice to meet new people. It’s insightful to see where they are in their lives, what they strive for, the relationships they maintain, their view of the world. I got reacquainted with a guy named Mark, from four years ago. I met his friend Sacheen (‘sa-SHEEN’). I met a Vicki (who made the guacamole), and Blanca, and Nick (who apparently Alison-from-MTV’s boyfriend) and Kelly (whose husband was at home installing the AC) and Wilson and a few others whose names I didn’t catch. When the picnic first started, as someone new came to the blankets, we’d introduce ourselves. Three or four hours into it, we just didn’t bother.
Kristin Plater was at the picnic, too. I happened to be wearing my “Good grammar costs nothing” t-shirt, and she totally called me out on her email I posted where I pointed out the misused apostrophes. I felt bad, but the thing is, my intention was to emphasize her praise AND my anal-retentiveness – because it was about my noticing too much, and I wouldn’t have posted her email if I thought she’d be truly offended. But she was, and just for the record, my grammar isn’t perfect, even though I’m passionate about it. So, I’m sorry for being such a punk.
It was HOT yesterday, and it was HUMID. Normal humans do not thrive in those conditions. Michelle claimed a spot in the shade at 1:15. I arrived at 1:45, and others soon followed. That’s where a bunch of us vegetated and ate and chatted for nearly the whole afternoon. And played frisbee, and pointed out the hubba-hubba shirtless, and winced at the thong bikinis, and watched the Capoeira demonstration. Michelle also got to play with a stranger’s baby, thereby making a new friend. She’s so good at that. I met her through Kristin Plater, but then how we managed to stay friends is kind of a mystery, but I’m grateful, all the same.
Later that evening, I attended a birthday party downtown. It was on the roof of a building in the Financial District, but right when we arrived, I saw some lightning flash in some clouds pretty far away, and when I stepped onto the roof, big, fatty, funky raindrops started falling at an angle from the sky or wherever, and we had to take the party to a club room inside. Turned out it was one of those freak rainstorms that lasted maybe ten minutes. The party was okay, but I found myself comparing my comfort talking to the picnic folks to the weirdness of the birthday party. Part of it was everyone already knowing each other at the birthday party. Part of it was my feeling paleozoic around the partygoers. It was fine.
I enjoyed church today. I attended Becky’s ward, and the meetings were quite good. I was actually rather impressed. This is where you notice that I won’t dedicate numerous paragraphs to the three hours I spent at church or the quasi-crush I have on someone’s cousin who’s only visiting for a week. But I will say the vibes in the singles and married wards are quite different. Wow.