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is it just me, or is every 4th of July privy to complete shite weather? In the words of my pal Herse, "It's like God is saying, 'HEY AMERICA! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ASSHOLE! HERE'S A MONSOON!' every year."
The colder it got, the most invites got canceled, and when it started raining, the few parties that remained in the "Game On" position seemed less and less appealing than staying home, vacuuming in my underwear singing along with the Showtunes digital radio station.
I had pretty much resigned myself to making it a quiet, mellow day alone [which was okay, really-- I mean, doing shit alone is the ultimate declaration of Independence, isn't it?].
But i lovelovelove New York, because only here, could you get a last minute invite to a show happening right down the street from your house, which could lead to finding yourself on a roof on the waterfront, the very second the rain stops, and the sky lights up with the most amazing Grucci fireworks you've seen yet.
I could say God Bless America, but instead, I think I will just say God Bless New York.
The colder it got, the most invites got canceled, and when it started raining, the few parties that remained in the "Game On" position seemed less and less appealing than staying home, vacuuming in my underwear singing along with the Showtunes digital radio station.
I had pretty much resigned myself to making it a quiet, mellow day alone [which was okay, really-- I mean, doing shit alone is the ultimate declaration of Independence, isn't it?].
But i lovelovelove New York, because only here, could you get a last minute invite to a show happening right down the street from your house, which could lead to finding yourself on a roof on the waterfront, the very second the rain stops, and the sky lights up with the most amazing Grucci fireworks you've seen yet.
I could say God Bless America, but instead, I think I will just say God Bless New York.
