The moving preparation is going a bit slower than I'd hoped. But realistically, it's about where I expected it to be two days before the event. Plus, months ago I committed to going to the Brooklyn Cyclones game tonight, so I won't be able to do much prep tonight either. Not that I did all that much the last few nights. Were it not for the assistance of Miss Charming Melodee, I'd be in some pretty dire straights right now. That statement's probably not exclusive to the moving.As predicted, summer is here with a force. There was one last blast of coldness a few days ago, and now it's in the 90's. I went to dinner with Geoff for his birthday the other night, and his ladyfriend mentioned that she felt like the temperature outside was exactly the temperature of her body. There was something really unsettling about the weather, and that was it. There was no sun, but the air temperature was still pretty close to human body temperature, and it made everything really uncomfortable. Suddenly, everyone's on the A/C train. Miss CM, in the past, has expressed concern over our differing air conditioning preferences. She gets cold when it's 65 degrees out, or inside when it's room temp. But now, she's come over to the cool side.
Yesterday, when I got home, James was sitting at the kitchen table, with the light turned down low, shirtless and sweating, watching a documentary called "The Cockettes' about transvestites or transsexuals or trans-somethings. I went in my room. The day before, he'd asked me if i could take a picture with my digital camera for his album cover. I says sure. He wanted take a picture of a mask, he said. Fine by me. So a few minutes after I get home, he knocks on my door, and enters, still shirtless and in shorts, wearing this purple mask you might find at Mardi Gras, or out of Eyes Wide Shut. So I spent a few minutes taking pictures of shirtless James in a purple, feathery mask. It's no wonder I'm not packed yet. Not that the pictures took that much time. Just indicative of my idiotic priorities.So that leaves a whole mess of shit for Friday night. Realistically, though, Friday night/Saturday morning. I have to finish packing, spackle and paint some holes in the walls and ceiling, and buy a new lighting fixture to replace the one I broke. The lighting fixture broke when I tried to take off my shirt too flamboyantly, and flung it over my head. It caught the fixture, which came crashing down, right on my ankle and then shattered in millions of pieces on the floor. Pretty spectacular to see, I bet. If there's a recurring theme to the regrets I have in my life, it's that the vast majority of things that have happened- car crashes, smashing dishes with my fist, etc.- would have looked really, really cool, if they hadn't been viewed from the first person.
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