we're not in DC anymore
i figured our juvenile bordlerine public menace behaviour would die down sooner or later and our age would catch up with us. but quite frankly it hasn't. the changing seasons only seem to have made it even worse. and not only that, we have recruited my new boyfriend who fully condones, if not perpetuates our exploration of the truly disgusting undrinkable shot, smashing things into hair and face, throwing delicate objects, whathaveyou. thus, i fully prepared myself for a long, eventful night out in manhattan last friday with the new bf, bringing along only the bare minimum of accessories, wearing confortable shoes, mentally preparing myself for the next day text apology etc...
our night followed a logical stream of events, drinking within eye-shot of police officers, riding a tassled, pedalless, flat-tired purple toddler's bike which we rescued from a chinatown dumpster and parking it proudly next to a shiny vespa in front of our bar destination, breaking and/or stealing tall german beer glasses, mocking everyone in sight, and making utter fools of ourselves on the dance floor. typical really. so when i came across a roll of toilet paper left on a lounge couch (?), i thought it perfectly logical to ambush one of my high school friends and re-enact that eventful night when we wrapped every tree in his yard with charmin before the ghastly rains of prom night. on my haunches, standing on a coffee table, ready to pounce and mummify, to my utmost suprise, boyfriend calmly took the roll from my hands, held my wrists at my side, and said, "cherie, this is not DC. new york is not just ready for you yet." i locked eyes with the glaring 300 pound bouncer and realized he was right, so right. and that's only one of the reasons that makes dc so special; in the capital, it's almost like you're with family, whereas new york is a vast unfriendly jungle with so many rules. then someone knocked over a tall beer stein and as fluid dynamics would have it, a fierce stream of pilsner went straight up my nose.
luckily, i had a roll of toilet paper in my hands.
Labels: mi vida

It was breathtaking…breathtakingly sad. We sped along, speechless at the simoultaneous natural beauty and anthropogenic disease, periodically blinded by the dust and deafened by the sound 18-wheelers speeding by at a warp speed with loads of trees, trunks as wide as our puny ford escape. I could barely keep the car on the road at 40 mph, and these guys were blowing by at twice our speed in an endless convoy. The cute young girl at the tourist office had warned us about these trucks, subcontracted drivers who have no regard for local traffic, the growing resentment towards these large faceless corporations who rule the lands around town like midievel kings. 