"I know where the whiskey lives."
May. 8th, 2004 02:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
morrigirlI don't know how to start this. I don't really want to start this. I'm so tired and spaced out I doubt anything I say will make a lick of sense. I honestly don't feel like writing at the moment, but I'm at work and the hours are crawling, and I'm pretty sure I'll fall out of my chair and land on the floor snoring if I don't do something to keep myself busy. So I'll tell you the story of yesterday, which turned out to be the most eventful 24 hours I've had in a long time.
First the basics: woke up at 1 pm, bathed, engaged in some retail therapy at Barnes and Noble, went to the grocery store, watched Angel.
Earler in the week I'd gotten hold of Elisabeth and we'd arranged to have dinner together, so at 6:15 PM I met her on the corner of 86th and Broadway and went over the Hanafin's. I was surprised to see that Liz had cut her hair. Like, REALLY cut it. Those long wavy black locks that once cascaded to her waist were replaced by a chin length bob. It looks really good on her buts it's definitely a change. In the eight years I've known her, her hair has never been that short.
So we went and we ate and we talked about work. She applied and was rejected from Bank Street, and is waiting for Hunter to get back to her. I don't remember much of what we talked about but I know we laughed a lot, and I bitched a lot, and I didn't feel so bad. Afterwards we went over to Staples and browsed all-in-one machines. I found one that was cheaper and prettier then the one I decided I didn't want. I think I may go back and purchase it soon.
Liz and I parted ways around 8 PM and I hopped on the train and headed downtown to Mike and Danielle's farewell party that was being held at my brother Greg's loft. I got there at 8:30, people were just beginning to trickle in, Mike and Danielle were putting the final touches on the cheese platters, and Greg was nowhere to be found. I asked where he was and Mike told me a crazy story.
About a half hour before hand Greg had gotten a phone call from the police informing him that Cathy (his ex-wife, mother of my nephew, woman he was married to for over 20 years,) had been hit by a bus while riding her bicycle, and was in surgery at the emergency room at Bellvue. So Greg high tailed it up there to be by her side. Once he got to the hospital he called and gave everyone the story. When I arrived all we knew was that Cathy was alive, but in critical condition. Greg said the entire left side of her body was broken. He also said his cell battery was low and asked that Mike bring him his charger.
As if that wasn't enough, we also found out Greg's son Giancarlo had nearly gotten himself killed in a completely unrelated incident. Earlier in the day he and a friend had decided for whatever reason that it would be fun to stick their BB guns out the living room window and start firing randomly. Mind you the kid is 14 and sure as all fuck knows better. In any case, someone saw these two kids shooting guns out the window, thought the bullets were real, and called the cops. The cops busted down the door to the apartment and GC is damn lucky he didn't get shot or arrested.
To sum up: by the time I arrived Greg was already having a VERY BAD DAY. But he told Mike to continue on with the party in his absence.
First half hour kinda sucked, mainly because no one was there, and I didn't have anyone to talk to. Eddie was there but we all know how I feel about him. I finally got to meet his wife Lourdes though. She's pretty, and tried to make smalle talk with me when no one else would. The two of them make a very tall couple.
Around 9 PM Mike announced he was going over to Bellvue to bring Greg his charger. I wasn't having a very good time so I said I'd go with him. We got in a cab and headed uptown. Surprisingly we had no trouble getting to the hospital or getting into the emergency room. They directed us to Cathy's hospital bed where all we could see was a huge pile of sheets and tubes with two little feet sticking out. Greg was right there with her in his blue hawaiian party shirt, his eyes all red and puffy, and his hair looking similar to Nick Nolte's in that famous mugshot.
He thanked us for coming by. Gave us a more detailed assessment of Cathy's condition. Doctor's said her brain functioning was totally normal, there had been no damage in that area. Ditto for her legs. The left side of her torso was wrecked though. Her clavicle was broken, as were all her ribs. One of her lungs had quit working so they had her on a ventilator. Doctor's said her injuries were totally survivable, but that she was in critical condition and would need to be closely monitored. They had her under general anesthesia, said they planned to keep her under for the next three or four days. Said she'd need to stay on the ventilator for at least two weeks, and need to remain in the hospital for the next month, minimum. Or as Greg put it, "She's close to dead."
Greg took us out to the waiting room and we sat with him for a little bit. He told us Cathy's brother Mills was taking care of GC for the night. Unfortunately Lee (her mother) was down in Florida for mother's day so she couldn't be there. Greg was the only person in the whole city who could be with her. He was a total wreck. Kept muttering to himself "This is all because of that STUPID bike she INSISTS on riding in traffic. I'm gonna yell at her when she comes out of this. Fucking cunt." It was the sort of anger born out of complete and utter fear.
About ten years ago Greg's best friend Doug slipped into his second coma brought on by AIDS related illness. They knew he wouldn't come out of it this time. He'd been getting steadily weaker, and everyone knew it was just his time to go. But Doug was a fighter, and he kept hanging on. The man refused to die. So everyday Greg would go to the hospital and talk to him. He'd say stuff like "You know Dougie you don't have to worry about us. We're gonna be alright. It's okay for you to go. It's okay for you to rest."
I'm sure a similar scene had taken place earlier in the emergency room with Greg at Cathy's side saying "Please don't go. You know, we all really need you to stay. Giancarlo needs you, and your mom needs you, and Mills needs you, and I need you. You gotta be strong. You gotta come back."
We sat with him for a half hour or so, after which he commanded we return to the party. When we got back to the apartment at 9:30 the joint was busting at the seams. Wall to wall people. Every one came out for MIke's last hurrah including many I hadn't seen in over ten years. I talked to Pam Weiss and her boyfriend for a while, saw Stephanie Kurtzuba and her new boyfriend, saw Jen Friedlander who is now doing stand up comedy and has stopped dying her hair platinum blond. Spoke to Debbie Morgan who pinched my cheeks and marvelled at how womanly I'd become. She introduced me to this very nice sketch comedian friend of hers whose name escapes me, but who I spoke with for a long time about books, politics, and Gloria Steinem. And of course I spent a good deal of time talking to my sister Maria and her husband Greg. I'm finding that I do well at parties where I have at least one or two individuals i know I can latch onto, as long as I've got them I feel somehow better about talking to people.
Also...Mike's friends KNOW how to mingle. Teenagers and twenty-somethings don't know how to effectively mingle. They're selective about the people they chat with. All Mike's friends are in their thirties, they're all married or engaged and have entered their nesting phases. They're not looking to get laid or to network. They're just there to hang out so they'll talk to anyone and everyone about anything and everything and they're not concerned about how they appear to others. They just talk for the sake of talking, which was a nice change.
It began winding down around 2 AM. At 2:30 Greg called and said he was heading home. By then there were only about ten of us left, and we'd all started helping Danielle clean the place up. Greg got home at 3AM. By then our number had dwindled to seven me, Mike, Danielle, Eddie, Lourdes, and a few other people Mike went to high school with, all of whom Greg was familiar with. Greg has always been a party guy, and there's nothing he likes better than relaxing with a nice stiff drink, so I think it was good for him to come home to a small yet festive gathering of familiar faces. He poured himself a drink, lit up a cigar, and Eddie convinced him to bring out his guitar and play some blues for us.
I've never heard my brother play the guitar. I knew he could, but he'd never given me a show. My brother is a really good guitar player :-)
That's how we rode out the rest of the night, on the cords of Duke Ellington's "I'm Beginning to see the Light." At 4 AM I got into a cab and went home. Slept for four hours. Now I'm at work. I have to call mom when I get home and tell her what happened. This weekend she's in Florida at my cousin Anna's wedding. She'll all be at the reception today but I still need to at least call and leave a message for her.
Tomorrow Mike and Danielle are having a moving sale. I've already laid claim to all their bookcases. And they reconsidered taking the CD rack with them, and decided to give it to me afterall. So I'm gonna go over there tomorrow and...I dunno...gaze lovngly at all my new furniture.
First the basics: woke up at 1 pm, bathed, engaged in some retail therapy at Barnes and Noble, went to the grocery store, watched Angel.
Earler in the week I'd gotten hold of Elisabeth and we'd arranged to have dinner together, so at 6:15 PM I met her on the corner of 86th and Broadway and went over the Hanafin's. I was surprised to see that Liz had cut her hair. Like, REALLY cut it. Those long wavy black locks that once cascaded to her waist were replaced by a chin length bob. It looks really good on her buts it's definitely a change. In the eight years I've known her, her hair has never been that short.
So we went and we ate and we talked about work. She applied and was rejected from Bank Street, and is waiting for Hunter to get back to her. I don't remember much of what we talked about but I know we laughed a lot, and I bitched a lot, and I didn't feel so bad. Afterwards we went over to Staples and browsed all-in-one machines. I found one that was cheaper and prettier then the one I decided I didn't want. I think I may go back and purchase it soon.
Liz and I parted ways around 8 PM and I hopped on the train and headed downtown to Mike and Danielle's farewell party that was being held at my brother Greg's loft. I got there at 8:30, people were just beginning to trickle in, Mike and Danielle were putting the final touches on the cheese platters, and Greg was nowhere to be found. I asked where he was and Mike told me a crazy story.
About a half hour before hand Greg had gotten a phone call from the police informing him that Cathy (his ex-wife, mother of my nephew, woman he was married to for over 20 years,) had been hit by a bus while riding her bicycle, and was in surgery at the emergency room at Bellvue. So Greg high tailed it up there to be by her side. Once he got to the hospital he called and gave everyone the story. When I arrived all we knew was that Cathy was alive, but in critical condition. Greg said the entire left side of her body was broken. He also said his cell battery was low and asked that Mike bring him his charger.
As if that wasn't enough, we also found out Greg's son Giancarlo had nearly gotten himself killed in a completely unrelated incident. Earlier in the day he and a friend had decided for whatever reason that it would be fun to stick their BB guns out the living room window and start firing randomly. Mind you the kid is 14 and sure as all fuck knows better. In any case, someone saw these two kids shooting guns out the window, thought the bullets were real, and called the cops. The cops busted down the door to the apartment and GC is damn lucky he didn't get shot or arrested.
To sum up: by the time I arrived Greg was already having a VERY BAD DAY. But he told Mike to continue on with the party in his absence.
First half hour kinda sucked, mainly because no one was there, and I didn't have anyone to talk to. Eddie was there but we all know how I feel about him. I finally got to meet his wife Lourdes though. She's pretty, and tried to make smalle talk with me when no one else would. The two of them make a very tall couple.
Around 9 PM Mike announced he was going over to Bellvue to bring Greg his charger. I wasn't having a very good time so I said I'd go with him. We got in a cab and headed uptown. Surprisingly we had no trouble getting to the hospital or getting into the emergency room. They directed us to Cathy's hospital bed where all we could see was a huge pile of sheets and tubes with two little feet sticking out. Greg was right there with her in his blue hawaiian party shirt, his eyes all red and puffy, and his hair looking similar to Nick Nolte's in that famous mugshot.
He thanked us for coming by. Gave us a more detailed assessment of Cathy's condition. Doctor's said her brain functioning was totally normal, there had been no damage in that area. Ditto for her legs. The left side of her torso was wrecked though. Her clavicle was broken, as were all her ribs. One of her lungs had quit working so they had her on a ventilator. Doctor's said her injuries were totally survivable, but that she was in critical condition and would need to be closely monitored. They had her under general anesthesia, said they planned to keep her under for the next three or four days. Said she'd need to stay on the ventilator for at least two weeks, and need to remain in the hospital for the next month, minimum. Or as Greg put it, "She's close to dead."
Greg took us out to the waiting room and we sat with him for a little bit. He told us Cathy's brother Mills was taking care of GC for the night. Unfortunately Lee (her mother) was down in Florida for mother's day so she couldn't be there. Greg was the only person in the whole city who could be with her. He was a total wreck. Kept muttering to himself "This is all because of that STUPID bike she INSISTS on riding in traffic. I'm gonna yell at her when she comes out of this. Fucking cunt." It was the sort of anger born out of complete and utter fear.
About ten years ago Greg's best friend Doug slipped into his second coma brought on by AIDS related illness. They knew he wouldn't come out of it this time. He'd been getting steadily weaker, and everyone knew it was just his time to go. But Doug was a fighter, and he kept hanging on. The man refused to die. So everyday Greg would go to the hospital and talk to him. He'd say stuff like "You know Dougie you don't have to worry about us. We're gonna be alright. It's okay for you to go. It's okay for you to rest."
I'm sure a similar scene had taken place earlier in the emergency room with Greg at Cathy's side saying "Please don't go. You know, we all really need you to stay. Giancarlo needs you, and your mom needs you, and Mills needs you, and I need you. You gotta be strong. You gotta come back."
We sat with him for a half hour or so, after which he commanded we return to the party. When we got back to the apartment at 9:30 the joint was busting at the seams. Wall to wall people. Every one came out for MIke's last hurrah including many I hadn't seen in over ten years. I talked to Pam Weiss and her boyfriend for a while, saw Stephanie Kurtzuba and her new boyfriend, saw Jen Friedlander who is now doing stand up comedy and has stopped dying her hair platinum blond. Spoke to Debbie Morgan who pinched my cheeks and marvelled at how womanly I'd become. She introduced me to this very nice sketch comedian friend of hers whose name escapes me, but who I spoke with for a long time about books, politics, and Gloria Steinem. And of course I spent a good deal of time talking to my sister Maria and her husband Greg. I'm finding that I do well at parties where I have at least one or two individuals i know I can latch onto, as long as I've got them I feel somehow better about talking to people.
Also...Mike's friends KNOW how to mingle. Teenagers and twenty-somethings don't know how to effectively mingle. They're selective about the people they chat with. All Mike's friends are in their thirties, they're all married or engaged and have entered their nesting phases. They're not looking to get laid or to network. They're just there to hang out so they'll talk to anyone and everyone about anything and everything and they're not concerned about how they appear to others. They just talk for the sake of talking, which was a nice change.
It began winding down around 2 AM. At 2:30 Greg called and said he was heading home. By then there were only about ten of us left, and we'd all started helping Danielle clean the place up. Greg got home at 3AM. By then our number had dwindled to seven me, Mike, Danielle, Eddie, Lourdes, and a few other people Mike went to high school with, all of whom Greg was familiar with. Greg has always been a party guy, and there's nothing he likes better than relaxing with a nice stiff drink, so I think it was good for him to come home to a small yet festive gathering of familiar faces. He poured himself a drink, lit up a cigar, and Eddie convinced him to bring out his guitar and play some blues for us.
I've never heard my brother play the guitar. I knew he could, but he'd never given me a show. My brother is a really good guitar player :-)
That's how we rode out the rest of the night, on the cords of Duke Ellington's "I'm Beginning to see the Light." At 4 AM I got into a cab and went home. Slept for four hours. Now I'm at work. I have to call mom when I get home and tell her what happened. This weekend she's in Florida at my cousin Anna's wedding. She'll all be at the reception today but I still need to at least call and leave a message for her.
Tomorrow Mike and Danielle are having a moving sale. I've already laid claim to all their bookcases. And they reconsidered taking the CD rack with them, and decided to give it to me afterall. So I'm gonna go over there tomorrow and...I dunno...gaze lovngly at all my new furniture.
