Clothes

Well another weekend is upon us. Thankfully. What an exhausting week. Presently, my favorite person is down with a cold, asleep on the couch after I went and picked him up some oj, Vitamin Water, DayQuil as well as NyQuil. I coaxed him to take two DayQuil with some of the Vitamin Water and he slipped immediately into the quietest sleep, despite how congested he is. I feel terrible when he is sick, like Why Can't I Just Fix This? But he's such a tough guy - he will persevere. Meanwhile, I don't mind a quiet Friday in New York City, myself. I've dreamed for what feels like 3 lifetimes about this apartment, this neighborhood and this whole fascinating world of New York City. Being quiet in it for a night is just as satisfying as throwing one's self into the activity of it. So, this night finds me with the office (writing studio) window open, a removable screen propped in it, listening to the KBNYC soundtrack that I've been still contemplating. I put a deliriously perfect (the) Cure song on it called "The End of the World" (not to be confused with the R.E.M. song "End of the World as We Know It"). The first time I heard it I was in Nashville, Tennessee, if I am remembering correctly. We were spending my birthday weekend with Angela and Tim there, and we were in a bar eating dinner and the video for this song was actually on a huge screen on one wall, the sound of the song competing, from speakers overhead, with the roar of the bar crowd. I adore Robert Smith - I really always have. I had a friend in High School who loved him far and away more than me, and she would drag me to these weekend record conventions (I'm dating myself, perhaps) where she would spend all of her part-time job money on the Cure collector's things: records, live recordings, rare t-shirts, that sort of thing. So I had a lot of exposure to the Cure, and I even painted an acrylic portrait of him once in High School. I still have it, and it makes me completely sheepish, just the thought of painting a favorite musician's portrait. Anyway, getting back to the point of this: me, some music, sleeping Craig and a quiet Friday night.*Yesterday I ventured to the newly-discovered Gap (found by Craig) to purchase what I'm naming my writing uniform: ridiculously soft gray drawstring pants, and a Body (soft knit) black tank top. I also selected a couple of pair (pairs?) of cords for work (but got a good deal, honestly. I'm not typically a Gap fan but the one at 85th and 3rd is pretty much going to be my new home away from home, next to the bookstore and work, that is). I felt so snug in my writing uniform last night, oddly enough while watching television (oops, not writing) with Craig (Thursday is a night packed with important television, most of which we record to re-watch anyway) that my sleep last night was some of the best I've had in a while. I woke up this morning feeling like I had been sleeping in a warm, soft and safe vessel where dreams kind of left me alone (dreams have been really bugging me lately). Then, today, first thing this morning, before I had even sipped my first cup of coffee, Craig came around the corner into my office and flashed a fanned handful of 4 tickets to the Jets-Colts game this Sunday at Giants Stadium. The look on his face contained so much glow and happiness! Evidently one of our peers (that's how I've recently decided to reference the people in our office) offered these to Craig because something came up and that guy can't go. Nice. So, Craig carefully (not to leave anyone out or cause conflict) spread the word to several football or Indiana enthusiasts, and we've now collected two guy peers of ours to go along with us Sunday to New Jersey (have I ever been to New Jersey before? hmm.) Now, given the fact I spent the greater amount of, let's say, 8.5 years in Indiana, just outside of Indianapolis, the Colts, by rights, should be my team, if I were to claim such a thing as a football team in my loyalty portfolio. Yet, as I e-mailed the boys today, my Colts jersey is still at the team store in Indy. Ie., I do not own Colts stuff. That said, I parted ways with Craig at the 86th Street station tonight after work - he headed north and I walked south - and I fell back into the Gap. There, I located the above pictured ensemble, which, since I own no royal blue stuff, or football stuff or anything seeming football spirit-related, will by all means act as my Colts semi-uniform. I so rarely let myself get into buying clothes - being fashionable is a full time job which requires a full time job to support the habit, that when I do it, and do it happily and well, I feel the need to brag a little. Add to the above cableknit shortsleeved royal blue sweater and mid-sleeved blue and white striped shirt a pair of blue jeans that I bought, too, and I think I might come across as a haphazardly decided Colts fan.*Seriously, since Craig and I are doing that Sunday, I'm borrowing tonight and tomorrow to do my thing. Tomorrow Craig intends to work, so I am going to head to Crosby Street for an Open Air Book Sale, where books of all textures, thicknesses, ages and natures will be sold for $1 each. It's a charity for NYC's homeless living with AIDS. From the sounds of the flyer, tables and tables upon tables of books will be available to browse. Craig wants to go, but we need to talk more about it tomorrow after he arrives at work and determines more about his Saturday schedule.*Happiest weekends to all of you who have been craving another since the last.**