2001-08-13 - 4:48 p.m.

So, my weekend. It was actually ok. I ended up staying in the city on Friday night, my friend Michael came over after work, then I headed out to a local bar to have a drink with P and Brad. We ended up running over to Mary's Fish Camp (this is officially my new favorite seafood restaurant in NY)to put in our names, then back for one more beer before our seating. We had a great time, and I was home early enough to get some cleaning up done (why am I always cleaning up? My apartment is the size of a closet, and I spend no more than 3 up-and-awake hours there on average, yet it is perpetually messy)I spent Saturday running errands, getting my nails done, and left for the beach at around 3, to give me time to stop in at my parents on the way down. The rain persisted on and off all night, putting a little damper on the boat party, but it was ok, I guess. I was itching for a notebook so I could take some notes on some of the stuff that went on. I have been told that I'm easy to talk to - which would explain strangers crossing all boundaries of propriety with the personal stories they tell me. So I will tell you a little about the most, um, interesting person I had a conversation with. She was someone's wife, let's call her Gina. She had long dark hair, and purple lipstick, and black platform sandals (on a boat) and was wearing low cut, tight shiny jeans meant for an entirely different body type. She had that hard, north Jersey accent that stereotypes are made of, and a ponytailed musician husband. So we're sitting around, drinking and chatting, and she and I start bullshitting a bit - I kid you not, in about 10 minutes she:

~showed me her tattoo, on her lower back, and told me the story behind it

~told me that she and her husband met in an online dating service. "I filtered the profiles for matches with Harley-Davidson and Ozzy Ozbourne." Um, ok.

~told me that she is an avid Powerp*ff Girls fan, and had an ENTIRE ROOM IN HER APARTMENT dedicated to above.

~told me all about her husband psycho ex-girlfriend, ending with "And she's still a psycho. She's still calling and driving by and we've already been married for FIVE MONTHS."

~ shared her predilection for, um..... group sex. All I have to say about that is ICK. And no, she did not in any way implicate me in that conversation. This entry would be reading much differently had that been the case. Like, about how I was arrested for shoving her off the bow of the boat.

~ gave me her entire itinerary for the rest of the week, which, as far as I can tell, consisted of going to Ozfest (afraid to ask) and then getting up at 5 am for work.

It never fails. Never. I am a freak magnet.

Anyway, we woke up to another dreary, rainy day on Sunday, so we left the beach after breakfast and headed to the boyfriends Mom's house for a visit, then back to the city. It was nice to get back early on a Sunday for a change - went and got the paper, some food from my favorite local sandwich shop (where a cute boy insisted that I try some of his turkey as a recommendation for my order)and hung out for a few hours, before meeting the boyfriend for dinner and a movie. In bed by 11, for an early meeting today (note to self: stop with the tortuous 8 o'clock meetings on Monday mornings)

I still feel at loose ends a bit, though. My best friend Jane is coming in to spend Wednesday night with me - that always makes me feel better, and then it's off to the West Coast.

Where I'll probably have more stories of strangers spilling their lives to me in random settings.

And on an unrelated note - I've been thinking about inviting another journaller out for a drink or coffee - but I'm strangely shy about it.(I have no ulterior motives, btw - except admiration) Pep talks in the guestbook welcome.

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