rachelpink rides the bus

Welcome Edward!

My pal Edward is in town (which makes the strep throat extra icky), so I get to do some touristy things this week. He's visiting from Florida, and I'm taking a day or two off work to run around town with him. 

It's going to be fun, and I'm glad he's here. We've never met in person, so we'll have to struggle through conversations without the help of emoticons :)   Hehehe. I told him we have to go to the Shake Shack and he wants to go to Little Odessa, City Island and Chinatown. And I need to come up with more Spring-tastic things to do. . . 

DR Duane Reade

My throat is evil. I suspected that I had strep when it started throbbing yesterday, but this morning it was beyond wrong. I had a fever and I was hurting. Ugh, but it was a volunteering morning. . . by the time I got to the shelter, I knew I was in trouble. I took attendance, assigned tasks, and then got out of there and headed into the city. 

Turns out that there are two Duane Reade's in Mahattan with built-in walk-in clinics. What luck! I headed to the one on 49th and Broadway. I was anticipating a long wait--but the whole experience lasted less than 45 minutes from start to finish. The doctor had me say AAAAAAAAAH, looked in my throat, and said, "Ack! I don't even need to run the test--you've got strep." Swell. I filled my prescription for penicillin at the pharmacy, just steps away from the clinic. Done. It was nearing noon and I hadn't eaten all day, so I stopped by Jamba Juice. Ooooh. Finally a teensy bit of throat improvement. 

And then. . . the rest of the day I slept. And slept. And sometimes I woke up long enough for orange juice or chicken soup. I was supposed to have a date tonight. . . obviously, no dice. 

Oh Saturday. 

Off

Meg, Mere, Vince, Sarah, Jaimie--all of them were right. That combined with the Craigslist killer story and an overall weird week. . . I'm out. 

No more Craigslist for me. Done done done. 

Time for me to join a bowling league or a church group. Time for me to start dressing sexy when I go to the supermarket. Time for me to free myself from the internet before I end up in the trunk of a car at the bottom of the east river. I don't want to be a Dateline special. I don't want Stone Philips to interview my friends. 

I'm going to sit here today, rest up while the antibiotics heal my strep throat, drink lots of orange juice, and thank the heavens that I have friends who support me, and care about me, and help me make smarter decisions. 

Saturday was a glorious day for a wedding. Meredith and Matt got married in a perfectly gorgeous church in Soho full of stained glass and gold things. (Please just no one tell Mere that I dropped the F bomb repeatedly in church, and worse, that my ridiculous Blackberry go off during the ceremony--it was turned off. I checked! Damn stupid Blackberry.) As you can tell, Meredith was the prettiest bride. Sometimes a bride doesn't look like herself on her wedding day. Meredith looked like Meredith, only more sparkly and glowy and happy. Anna was like that on her wedding day too. . . my friends make such good brides. 

Anna and Fritz and Meg and I spent the day together and it was so lovely and so special and so fun. I have such good friends. 

Congratulations Meredith and Matt! 

Break

Wow. This might be the longest I've gone without blogging. 

I've been really really out of sorts lately. Really. I'm fine when I'm out and about, but man, I am mess when it's just me and the cats. And let's just say there's been a lot of time spent with just me and the cats. 

You know me, I like to be honest and upfront. I'll admit that I've spent a lot of time watching Buffy, drinking seltzer, and not moving from the couch. Ouch. And I've been sleeping too much. And napping too much after sleeping too much. 

Something's amiss in my wee little brain. It will straighten itself out. It always does. For now, I remain frazzled and not 100% me. Please bear with me. 

Up Up Up

It's almost 3am and I'm up sick. Apologies if you're reading this over breakfast, but I just spent a good 20 minutes throwing up while the ever-curious Foster looked on. 

Ugh. 

As much as I love living alone in my sunny yellow apartment, I hate getting sick alone. While I am convinced that Foster and Cupcake are capable of hatching a plan (perhaps dialing 911 on my cell phone and meowing for an ambulance), that's not much of a comfort. 

For now I'm just going to remain upright, try to get some more shut eye, and continue to teach the cats how to turn on my phone. 

She Puts the Lotion On. . .

Today I went to a dermatologist for the first time. I went because I am getting old and my skin lacks the delightful zing it had when I was 20. 

Here's what I learned after waiting an hour in the delightfully-appointed waiting room:

1. When you hit 30 your skin starts to suck. 

2. When you hit 30 it takes 2-3 times as long to heal even the teensiest mark. 

I left with a handful of prescriptions for pills and things I may or may not take--and a sinking sense of my own mortality. 

Cruel

I've been up since 6 and now it's 6:16 but I'm still in bed. 

It's not because I'm unmotivated. I am hungry for breakfast quiche and thirsty for orangey seltzer. 

It's because I am cruel. 

The cats heard my alarm go off and started running around the apartment like mad men. One at a time they come up onto the bed, look me in the eye, and run toward the food bowls. 

These cats are not underfed, and I know it's in their cat-nature to do this. 

Some days, like today, I like to lord my power over them. 

Bloodsuckers

My Easter weekend was positively blood thirsty with non-stop vampire action. 

Dead Until Dark: I finally finished the first Sookie Stackhouse book. Huh. Here's the thing. It's not like I didn't like it. I liked it. It was entertaining. But it took me two weeks to get through because I'd lose interest after reading a few pages. I'm going to give the second book in the series a whirl, but if it starts dragging like the first one, I'm going to have to abandon the world of white trash and vampires. 

Let the Right One In: Fantastically brilliant, sweet, and creepy "horror" film from our happy-go-lucky friends in Sweden. Little girl vampire, mean mean bullies, and lots of blood. 

Buffy Season 3: Last night I watched the first disc of season 3, and I wonder if I'm ever going to come across a clunker of an episode. It is just so damn good. And I am so hot for Giles, I can hardly handle it. Then again, I've always had a thing for older men. 

Happy Easter, Punkins

Happy Easter, friends. This baby bunny is for you.