i think i have sunstroke

so it was a full weekend. it was a full weekend that went all the way to bedtime last night, and feels like it's kinda bled into this week, which is only a three-and-a-half day week because i'm taking a half-day thursday and friday we GO TO CHICAGO! that's right. at the end of the week we'll be out of hot, sticky, smelly (and wonderful) new york and in hot, sticky not-so smelly chicago. we're staying with terry, even though i'm not sure where or how, unless terry, hilary, sasha (the cat), and i all sleep in a big pile on his bed. wouldn't be the first time.

ok, so the weekend. friday was pretty normal: drank way too many beers in the east village with sam after meeting up with scott and chris. now, what wasn't normal about all that was falling asleep on the train going the WRONG DIRECTION and ending up where i started at 3.45 in the morning. that sucked. saturday, after i rolled out of my beer-haze, i came into work (i know, lame) and then went to the siren festival at coney island. now, let me say two things about coney island:

1. it's farther away than you can possibly imagine. i'm sorry but if that's still considered new york city, i don't understand how. it takes like an hour to get there from manhattan. riiiiight.
2. it's really, um, gross and trashy. with lots (and i mean LOTS) of gross and trashy people.

but here's the deal: scissor sisters were headlining the siren festival. i was afraid that it would be super crowded and i wouldn't even be able to see them, but those fears were unfounded. we fought our way through the crowd, stood about halfway back, and i could see all i needed to if i stood on my tip-toes. i could hear all of it, and they sounded great. i danced my face off for their entire hour-and-a-half set, which i'm sure made the non-dancing hipsters around me hate me. but who cares? they're hipsters.

yesterday was another big day: the beach at sandy hook. now, you new yorkers who haven't been to sandy hook should all take note (at least you gay new yorkers, that is). it's a less-than-30-minute ferry ride (on a very fancy ferry with an fully-stocked bar) from east 34th street. that's right, a beach that takes less than an hour from subway to towel. here's the thing, though. it's a, um, nude beach. yeah, nude beach. like "oh look, that obese gentleman doesn't have any clothes on!" nude beach. what was most bizarre about the nude beach, once you got over the fact that all these people were -completely, horrifyingly- naked, is how quickly you forget that you're naked. now, there's a joke that all gay people have seen their friends naked already. and it's pretty true. so being naked with my friends on the beach was like, "oh look, you're naked. whatever."

i've just never had to worry about sunburn in certain areas, however, and will probably never recover from having to sunscreen those places. safety first!