The bike ride was just covered in Duke's newspaper, The Chronicle. That's exciting, because it is a newspaper I used to read all the time. The story has also appeared in The Rochester Post.
Last Friday, I hosted my first-ever dinner party, at my lovely apartment in Fort Greene. 8 people were hand-selected to provide the best possible company, and delivered in spades. There was classic country music playing in the background, chips and salsa in the foreground, and a general excitement in the air. Merritt and Josh helped me with the cooking, which wound up as a first course of salad with homemade dressing, a main of arroy con poulet, and a finish of coffee and a bowl of honey, strawberries, and yoghurt. Delic! The next morning I woke up and remembered SW had done all the dishes.
Saturday night was Lucy's bachelorette party, which had a lot of the same people as my dinner, but more as well! We started at Jo's new Bleeker St. HQ, then rallied on to Karioke in chinatown. Click here to see all the pics. Lucy looked totally beautiful and Josh's love of karioke (combined with possible high cholesterol) finally showed up in his side-splitting thalidomide shuffle.
I finally got a ticket on Sunday, when I swerved across 4 lanes of traffic in half a block to get on the southbound FDR (after dropping off Lucy, Manel, and Marta at GCT). It was raining, and my windows were totally foggy. But all was not lost, I had to break my jammed glove compartment open (for proof of insurance), which ended up fixing it.
Just after that, I went to blockbuster to get a movie, and when I came out, a foreign guy was standing there pointing at his car. Apparently, when I had parallel parked (wedging the back of my car into a construction zone) I had mistakenly bumped his car and put a huge dent in the rear bumper. FURY! I had just gotten a ticket, and now this? He said over and over "I need your paper, I need your papers." And after playing dumb for a minute, I thought "F-this", tore off my shirt, crawled under his car (into grimy grit--it was still raining) and pushed as hard as I could on the dent, which reluctantly popped out. Then that guy was shaking my hand, seriously.