Oh, weekend. Had plans to picnic on Governors Island on Saturday, but stayed in bed too long for the trip to be worthwhile. Decided to attend the Yankees v. Tigers game, but rode all the way up to the Bronx in a congested subway car to find the game sold out. Headed back into the city for a very specific and tasty dinner, but alas, the restaurant was closed for vacation. We ended up eating at some outdoorsy cafe with tree shade, Christmas lights, overcooked hamburger meat and a big barking dog. Back to Brian's, where I fell asleep on the couch watching The Barefoot Contessa with Humphrey Bogart and Ava Gardner. woke up to unforecasted gray skies and a urinary tract infection. Classy. Postponed the Governors Island picnic yet again, writhed around in bed for awhile until hunger took over pain. Ate drenched, soggy french toast that I couldn't finish because of the freakish texture. Spent the day popping pills that turned my pee orange and watching movies with Brian at my apartment. Today, I'm home from work for a doctor appointment and with a list of procrastinated tasks to complete before my roommate moves in on Wednesday. It'll be nice to have someone else here. Also, she can abundantly add to my kitchen utensils, which consist of one big green plastic plate, six spoons and a few noticeably inexpensive pots with metal handles.
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