Pink Duct Tape

It's time to move on.

Time for something totally new. I've moved to
Pink Duct Tape at typepad! See you there!

A day to remember...

Michael Moore writes a letter to everyone who voted for George Bush.

4 years ago today I was brand new to this city as a resident. I had moved here about a week and a half earlier mostly on a whim. I graduated from college the previous spring, spent the summer down south working for an outdoor drama and returned home to upstate NY without a clue as to what I was going to do next.

Mom suggested I head down to the city to stay with my brother for awhile and check out my options.

The boy was my night in shining armor. I called him that day saying I was in town and did he know of any available work. He just so happened to know about a load-in that was taking place the very next day at the Promenade theatre. He said I should show up there and talk to the boss...and so I did...and so I got the job.

The boy and I started flirting pretty much right off the bat but I was in no mood for a long term relationship at the time. I had just recently been through a very bizarre break up and seeing as how I was starting a new life, I didn't need a boy to muck it up.

After about a week of working together, give or take a few days, I took him out to dinner to thank him for getting me a job. The next night we went out to a bar and played darts. That's when I found out he was a Mets fan too. Be still my heart. The next night we went to a pub. We sat at the bar, drank a few beers and got to know eachother. He walked me to the subway and as we were going our seperate ways, he uptown and me down, he shot me a quick and awkward kiss on the cheek and said goodnight. This was September 10th...and damnit, I was giddy.

The next day I was practically skipping to work at about 830am. I couldn't wait to see the cute boy again. As I hung out in front of the theatre with my coffee, waiting for work to begin, I got a phone call from home. Weird. It was my dad asking me if I was okay. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?" I responded. Then he told me about the plane hitting one of the twin towers. My immediate reaction was to look up. I didn't see anything from where we were. I told dad I was fine and it probably wasn't as bad as he thought. I was picturing a tiny plane kind of knicking the side of the building. I told my co-workers what dad told me once I got off the phone and the general response was sort of blasé. No big deal, we're sure.

The boy showed up soon after that and this is when things started to get very serious. We realized what a big deal the crash actually was, went into the neighboring coffee shop to watch and saw the second plane in the side of the other building.

We all know what happened next.

The boy and I, without saying much, held on to eachother and our friends. Suddenly life seemed a lot shorter. On that day of tragedy the boy and I comforted eachother. He took me in because I couldn't get downtown to my brother's apartment. We went on his roof and watched the smoke rise from lower manhattan. We realized there wasn't much need to take it slow at this point and since that day, we haven't been apart.

I love you babe. We'll never forget that tragic and life altering day. Thanks for taking care of me.

Knitting for the winter!

The Boy wanted a new red hat. So I made him one.

I made a matching scarf and hat for myself. We are demonstrating how ready we are to frolick and smooch in the snow.

Sid

I don't know what we did, but clearly he's upset with us.

We're getting older now.

Good-Bye CBGB's.

I wasn't part of the original CBGB's crowd, obviously. I'm not old enough. But the boy is, not that he was part of it either because, you know, he's from the south y'all. However, we're all aware of what it was about and it's going to be a very sad day when it's ripped to bits and replaced by..who knows...a jamba juice?

It makes me think about a story the boy told me when we first started dating. We were doing the usual "what kind of music do you like?" thing. Keeping our fingers crossed and hoping we hadn't accidentally fallen in like with someone who was say...a closet Britney Spears fan or worse, Kenny G. He said his favorite was the Ramones. (phew!)

Then he made this face I'd never seen him make before and I've never really seen it since. I think it was his version of excitement. (he's not very excitable. not on the outside. when we go on rollercoasters, he smirks and giggles. that's it. I dont think he even opens his mouth.)

"I saw Joey once. On the street."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It was like this."

Then he demonstrated for me how he (the Boy) was standing at a cross walk and Joey Ramone himself walked up and stood on the very same crosswalk, waiting for the walk sign. Then he told me how he got the jitters and just kept walking until he came to his senses, turned around and said hello...or something along those lines.

I wish Joey Ramone was still alive for many many reasons. But most of all, I would pay to see that look of excitement on the Boy's face again when Joey passes him on the street. You do know we named one of our cats after Joey right? Yeah, and the other one is Sid. Cause they're punk rock cats you know.

Good Bye Hula Girl

We brought the car back upstate to live there for the winter months. As always, we had to say good bye to hula girl. She is always saying good bye. Always.