Ack - I don't have to tell anyone anywhere near new york how nasty nasty nasty hot it is. All i can think about is getting the hell out of here. I'm leaving for the west coast on wednesday, so i'm already postponing plans with friends "until the fall'. Those words sound so sweet. Right now i'm in the process of not going to either of my two soiree options for the semi-lame reason that i can not possibly wait in any sticky stifling train stations tonight. My apartment is bad enough thank you. If my local bars weren't such pick-up joints i'd probably duck into one. But i'm in no mood to be prowled.

Last night Stephen, Darleen, and i saw some sound art at the Whitney. After several "Whitney Spritzers" (Vodka, Green Apple Schnapps, and some other alcohol) our evening quickly deteriorated. Firstly i haven't been drinking nearly enough in the last few months and my tolerance is dangerously low. Two thirds of the way into my first whitney spritzer i promptly started embarrassing the two of them. It's one thing to be sloppy late into the evening at a dark and smokey bar, it's quite another thing when it's still light out at a museum during a sound art show. Thing about sound art is that people are generally being quiet so they can, you know, hear it. At one point well into spritzer #2 i got up to go to bathroom and got tangled in some speaker wires causing a "distraction".
"What's she doing?" whispers Darleen.
"Trying to walk" Stephen replies.
Naturally i start laughing. Loudly. Yes, i was the obnoxious girl. The one everyone sighs heavily and rolls their eyes at. Actually I really did like the performance. I've been entranced with sound art lately. The Bill Fontana piece at Creative Time is especially good. In Paris i met an Italian sound artist who was kind of inspiring. She was inspiring because her stuff didn't sound good at all and she had like 5 government grants. I respect that.

After the museum we found ourselves in the Upper East Side. I'm going to skip all the details about us being totally out our element and get to the point. After several hours of sweaty wandering and an apple martini here and there, we ended up at "The View". No, not the morning talk show, but "New York City's only revolving rooftop restaurant and lounge at the Marriott Marquis Times Square". What started as a joke turned into all you can eat rib tips, frothy virgin ice cream drinks with vodka, and several spins on the horribly horribly horribly dj-ed dance floor. The rib tips were yummy. "Campbell's Mushroom" Stephen declared after the first bite. I just love stuff made with Campbell's mushroom. The ice cream drinks were gross. Ice cream and vodka is bad. I don't care how good it sounds. The View was, as you can imagine, ridiculously fun. It's rare that one gets to see women wearing fake eyelashes in earnest. If it wasn't also ridiculously expensive i might think about going back. Oh i'm also not going back because of my urge to fast and maybe have an enema to repent for the all-you-can-eat rib tips thing.