Greetings, my beloved blogfollowers. Last night I took the road most traveled and went to karaoke, even though I knew it was likely a very poor move in terms of my health and my financial well being. I ended up in Astoria, staying over with my dear friend Kelly.
First things first. I met with my papa at the Hyatt near Grand Central. We talked for a bit and he brought me my laptop, which is back in my ever-lovin' arms again and at least semi-operable, due to the ministrations of my saintly and long suffering eldest sister.
We then adjourned to a late lunch/early supper at Osteria Laguna. We both ordered the Crema De Piselle Gamberini, which was an absolutely lovely pea soup with sautéed shrimps. Delightful. Then I had the Caprese salad with imported buffalo mozzarella and it was just heavenly. Papa ordered the Culatello con Finocchi Arance e Olio di Rafano, a salad of mixed greens and prosciutto that he found not at all to his liking due to the chef's predilection for raw onion interspersed irreparably throughout the dish.
During our meal we discussed such unpleasant topics as my unemployment and recent poor health, but always with an eye toward the future and my prospects going forward. He surprised me with a sweet card bearing the visage of a very wise looking old pig, with a quote from François de La Rochefoucauld (writer) (1613-1680):
The height of cleverness
is being able to conceal it.
I do love my father and find him to be the most encouraging, honest and faithful ally one could ever want.
My father and I during our January trip to Florida, pictured here at the famed Columbia Restuarant in Ybor city, the old cuban quarter of Tampa. If you ever have opportunity to dine there, I send you on highest recommendation. I had the some of the best food of my life that evening, and the brilliantly appointed dining areas, as well as the overall architectural beauty of the building, are simply not to be missed.
Franklins Tower - The Grateful Dead
This song was the soundtrack for that adventure, but that's all a story for another day.
After dinner and coffee (they had lovely little cookies with the coffee at Osteria Laguna, I recommend them) we walked to the train and I went on the A.C.E. line and he went back to Albany. Both of my parents live upstate, as do all of my four siblings. You'll meet them all next weekend when I go home for a follow up with my surgeon.
After the workshop (my darling Scott was up for critique, with the final chapters of his outrageous and wonderful new novel Bergdorf Boy being presented) we stayed in the shop for a bit and wrote. A nice boy gave me a brownie but it was orange flavored and I didn't care for it at all. I had texts from several friends who were over at the 12th Street Ale House, our regular hang out. I decided I would come over for just one tiny teensy little drink. You all know how that goes. Soon found myself in the basement karaoke parlour of the LemonGrass Grill, accompanied by my stalwart companions, Blythe, Doug, Foley, Kelly and her wonderful new boyfriend Mike, who works at the Bronx Zoo (by my apartment.) I messed up TWO salt 'n pepa songs, but mostly watched everybody do their thing. Drunken karaoke is always an adventure.
I do believe it was around 1AM when we finally rolled out, Doug, Kel, me and Mike in a cab with a very confused driver. We made it to kelly's place in astoria and then proceeded to the grocery store for unecessary beers and boisterous stumbly fun through the aisles, alleyways, and sidewalks of Queens. Back again at the apartment we settled down to watch some RIDICULOUS silliness on youtube (see below) and then went to bed.
The morning found me very early awake with a horrible headache and likely still drunk. Mike was going to the zoo so I caught a ride with him. I realized I'd misplaced my metrocard and walked the half mile to my house on very stumbly legs, ate some cocoa puffs, and took a nap.
don't watch this garbage if you are easily offended:
alright i'm out. laterz