Audrey’s blog

So, Angelo's was good!  http://www.angelomulberry.com/

Walter, our waiter, hooked us up.  Eight people shared rabbit, filet mignon, chicken and the especial pesce.  Of course pasta, of course red wine, and of course Sambuca and sorbets (lemon, chocolate, and orange).  We had a riotous good time.

Heather and Mike (who decided "we were both in a bad place" that Christmas Eve--I agree:  pickled and cranky is not the greatest); quiet Rob, whose kids have a 10-year-old rabbit he wishes he could roast and serve with garlic sauce like we had at Angelo's (f-ing house rabbits chew everything, baseboards, electrical cords, the rubber stoppers in the ironing board legs--I had one once, Sophia, and I loved her but she almost took the house down); friendly John, whose wife has MS and is at the wheelchair stage ...; boisterous Ed the control freak egomaniac (he was introduced to me as a Dirty Old Man, sho' nuff); bubbly Amy, Ed's delightful partner (law partner not life partner), who plays bass and is married to a muscial savant, apparently; and contentious Tom, the all-American looking guy with the interesting family life married to a Greek.  The group bought my dinner because I'd ordered for the table and it was really nicely done, on the part of Walter and his cohorts.  Hey!  I even got toasted by everyone!

We ate like kings, drank like it was a party (it was) and laughed for hours.  I love dinners like that!!!

Heather, Mike and I dumped the crowd and walked down the street.  Sat in a dark bar and had a nightcap.  Bartender made me some fabulous fruity tequila martini.  I love it when foreign men call me "sweetie."

We girls shared a cab home.

Another pearl on the string of my friendship with Ms. Heather!

The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Met Heather and her colleague Larry (a really nice Scorpio whose daughter is getting married in two weeks) at Nation.  She had a glass of red wine waiting for me (see, if I could find a man like her ....).  We hugged hard and grinned at each other.  She looks great, new hairdo with cool highlighting.  Chatted it up over the loud music as best we could, shared a plate of those great quesadillas.  Larry left, we sat a few minutes more and yelled at each other from 1.5 feet, then decided to blow the joint.  Heather was still starving, because she'd only had a yogurt.  Doesn't flying make everyone ravenous?

We went around the corner to the Red Flame Diner, one of my favorite haunts.  Two more (small) glasses of their (cheap and icky and CHILLED!) red wine.  Heather had a gyro, I had some corned beef hash--talked the guy into a half order.  I mean, the servings are HUGE there.  Lotta bang for your buck.

Around 9, back on the train to Bay Ridge.  It turned out to be a beautiful night, the heat having dissipated while we were in the diner.  As we surfaced, I looked down 4th Avenue and saw the awning for Arirang, the Japanese restaurant where I stop by with my book from time to time.  I cuddle up to one end of the bar downstairs, order some wine and food, and enjoy my book and occasional conversation with Ed, the bartender/waiter.  He always ends up buying me one, and we often talk about what I'm reading.  Ed's a really nice guy.  I talked Heather into stopping "for one more."

The place was pretty empty, which was good since Nation was so damned loud our voices were strained from yelling.  Ed had a little flurry of serving, then got behind the bar and met Heather, poured us both a glass of wine.  While Ed back-and-forthed, Heather showed me the pictures in her new iPhone.  Cool.  Her cat, Beauty, really is a cutie.  Pretty face.  After a bit, and after Heather and I asked Ed about the drinks they serve in the ceramic Buddhas (and after Heather whined, "I just want an umbrella!" and Ed handed her three), we walked on home.  Ed wouldn't take our money!

Home, where we dumped her bags and proceeded to open the wine I'd bought in anticipation of her visit.  "You Are So Beautiful," which the liquor store guy told me was a "pretty" red, SUCKED.  http://www.snooth.com/wine/domaine-le-briseau-you-beautiful-2006/  We decided it needed about a week's worth of life breathed into it before we could approach it again.  Vac-u-vin'd it and moved on to the Marietta Old Vine Red, an old favorite.  Wonderful, actually.  http://www.mariettacellars.com/wines/wine_redlot.html

Not being able to shut up, either of us, we talked until past 2am, and opened another bottle.  I don't even remember what it was and since I'm not writing this at home can't check the label.  It was wet.  We drank it.  Most of it.

Finally we gave up the fight and crashed.  I was so snockered I went to the bathroom and came back and just laid on the carpet next to the bed.  Figured I wouldn't fall out that way.  Woke sometime during the night and crawled in with Heather.

This morning, as I was starting tea for myself and grabbing a Diet Coke for my guest, Heather came in the kitchen with the wine glasses and dumped them out and washed them.  I asked her, "Did you do that to get rid of the evidence or because the sight of them made you ill?"  She said, "It made me feel better!"

I called in temporarily indisposed at work so we could enjoy each other's company and get ready slowly to go into the City.  Fixed a little rice and egg whites, we showered and dressed and took off.  Parted company at the 42nd Street station so I could go to work and Heather could meet a friend for lunch.  I kissed her and wished her a great afternoon, said, "I'll talk with you later."  She called after me, "See you at cocktail hour!"

I nearly ralphed.

So, at the cocktail party tonight I will see an old friend of Heather's whom I met while living in San Francisco.  Mike.  We are so alike we spent one Christmas dinner drinking all night and arguing.  I remember at one point Heather had gone to bed and Mike and I were standing in a doorway.  He was continuing to dress me down, while inserting "but I still like you" every once in a while.  I didn't care.  Mike's opinions are crap.

It will be good to see him.

Welcome to my inaugural blog.

After immense pressure from my fans (all 3 of 'em), I am breaking down and finally starting my blog.

We'll keep it simple, until I get the hang of it.

Brace yourself, though, 'cause I calls 'em like I sees 'em, and I don't pull many punches.

Today?  Heather just flew in from San Francisco, landing at 15:28 and calling me at 15:29.  Yay!  My girl.  Good lady.  We met in San Francisco on a "Learn to Sail the Bay" group outing that turned out to be no more than a fairly inexpensive way to get on a large sailboat and spend a few hours on the Bay (nobody learned squat about the currents and nuances of sailing that Bay) ... and none of us had to sleep with the Captain!  (It would have been okay, because he was hecka cute, but alas sporting a bright and shiny wedding band.)  This trip turned out to be one of the few times I've gone to anything and met someone I stayed in touch with.  (Heather and I met another girl, Diane, at the same time.  The three of us tried to pal around for a few dates, but Diane was wound up waaaay too tight.  Screeched her way through a play about marrieds trying to have a baby--we were in one of those shoebox-sized theaters in San Francisco where the actors could spit gently and hit someone in the back row.  All us grownups smiled and tittered appropriately, while Diane screeched nervously at everything.  "See how cool I am?!?!?  This stuff doesn't bother me!!!  I find it HILARIOUS!!"  I remember Heather and I looking around Diane at each other--it must've been then that we sealed the deal on our friendship.)  So, it became The Heather and Audrey Show, until I dropped the bomb on her that I was moving to New York within the year.  She took it well (the bitch), and promised to see me frequently.  I've stayed at her place while flying to SFO to see my parents in Tahoe, and now she's going to stay at my little place in Brooklyn.

I'm very excited.  I have continued the 2 years (on August 23) that I have lived in New York to find a worthwhile girlfriend, missing Heather mucho.  I believe I've found that girl (Sue), and will tell you about her next time she and I get together--debating the doableness of the bartender at Nation with the bald head and facial hair (she likes it, I like some), sharing quesadillas and talking about conquests (yes, those kind).  More interesting straight after the event. 

I don't know how much red wine New York can hold in stock, but I promise that stock will be drastically depleted by Monday (Heather's departure).  We are good/bad for each other, in that regard.  I love it when she calls me from her home and I can tell she's been tippling.  Makes me want to hug her for thinking of calling me!!  Please do not misconstrue, Heather's not a big drinker; it's just that when the situation calls for it, we can both throw down ... and have.

A good thing:  Heather's going to be attending lectures and such all three and a half days, so we know we can't grab junk food (and more wine!) and lie in front of movies all day!

Soon as I get off work (:5 minutes!!) I'll be joining my good friend at a bar nearby, with her colleagues.

This should be interesting.