Party, party!

I've been out of the house so much lately, and it's been really awesome.  I've worked every day for the past week +, sometimes at two different jobs in the same day, and haven't had much time to sit around and get upset about how I don't do anything. Additionally, I've been HAVING FUN! GOING PLACES!  

Thursday night turned into an unexpected ladies' night when Emma called me after work and whisked me off (soggily, in the driving rain) to a lovely wine bar called Terroir.  Her roommate joined us a little later and we stayed warm drinking wine until two in the morning.  Much of the conversation revolved around Felicity. Am I complaining? Never, never, no not ever.  This bar was really cute, though ordinarily I'd never go because it's out of my price range and because it doesn't generally occur to me that I can go places other than dives

Friday, the train I was on after work got stuck mid-tunnel due to a "smoke problem" further up the track.  The train totally shut down for just over ten minutes...which isn't that long, but was ample time for a quiet sort of pandemonium to break out in my car.  One guy was trying to incite panic-- yelling "Get set, folks. We're gonna be in here all night. I'm not kidding. Hope you got a good book. Oh, boy. We're here for a long time."  The girl sitting across from me went in between two cars to pee, then stayed out there smoking with some old hippie types.  Someone called the conductor on the emergency intercom.  A pre-recorded message played, saying "Due to problems on the track, this train is no longer in service.  Please listen for evacuation instructions from the train crew." At that, everyone made a lot of noise.  The guy next to me ws sweating buckets and nervously laughing, trying to engage everyone around him in conversation, saying "Heh-heh, we're not really gonna be stuck here all night, right? Right?!" Of course we didn't have to evacuate, and eventually we got to the station, which did, indeed, smell like smoke.  

Saturday, I ventured to Bushwick to Asterisk for their farewell party.  I was there to see Infidels, but caught most of the sets of the Rude Mechanical Orchestra (chaos in the form of horns and dancers requesting us to sing along to a song that went "Here's the the man and his bombs, his bombs, his bombs, here's to the man and his motherfucking war games!") and Project Jenny, Project Jan (fun, sweaty multimedia insanity).  I drank a bunch of beer, thrashed around with some sweaty, hyper hipsters (I was leaning against a wall, minding my own business, and before I knew it, 'Jake the performance artist' was spinning me into the fray), got some air in the rainy Bushwick night, danced my face off during Infidels' sweet set, and at the end of the night, couldn't have been happier to be away from home at 4 AM.  I also found out that I am not the only one who, upon receiving a haircut that I'm less-than-thrilled with, fears that I look "Polish."  I can't explain that.

I've had several nightmares recently about my upcoming reading. They're like the classic actor's nightmare, except that they feature me getting to the reading, passing out the scripts to the actors, and then realizing that I never did the rewrites I wanted to.  Genuinely terrifying. I wake up all sick-feeling. 

Thanksgiving's coming up.  I'm looking forward to going home for a few days. I can't believe that 2008 is almost over. Good lord.