Sunday, June 7, 2009

Whoop Ass

I wasn't sure what to title this entry --'best week ever' or 'worst week ever' - so I went with 'whoop ass' which could really be either. Either way, the week opened a can of whoop ass on my and sent me through a series of emotions and physical reactions I haven't encountered in quite some time.

The whirl wind of activities that took place between Monday and Sunday may have been reasonable had they been spaced out by weeks, or months, based on their close proximity to my recent camping trip of 'discovery' (see posting below: How Shane Huggins saved my life).

I suppose my week started off somewhere between average to good with the return of a good friend from Australia, the purchase of a flight to San Diego for the near future, and a beautiful 70 degree day which we celebrated with a jog through the Park. Tuesday and Wednesday also past with reasonable emotional highs and lows (such is the glory of working at KCSA). Tuesday, we visited Company (our newest favorite fancy pizza place in Chelsea) with Davina -- who just returned from Oz -- and Katie -- in for a visit from LA. Wednesday, after I treated myself to a haircut, Jerome, Skye and I went to Patsey's, my favorite traditional pizza place in the Upper West Side. Thursday rolled around and work became a series of emotional struggles and trials. Thursday night, in an effort to release the steam that built up in an atmosphere fit for an animal of prey, we enjoyed a series of favorite spots including Kettle of Fish, Cafe Nior, Ace and a break at a sports bar for the Laker's first game in the Finals. The week, both in and out of work was bursting at the seams and counteractive, which I tend to overdo if I'm not finding the fulfillment I crave from my day job.

Friday, after pulling myself out of bed calling in for a mental health day we took on MOMA, before moving on to eating and drinking our way across the city. Our good friends Molly and Marvin's friend Jim opened an amazing new restaurant/bar called Jo's in SOHO which we celebrated with a few glasses of wine and several ohhh's and ahhh's (please check it out if you're in the area, it's truly amazing). We found a happy hour fit for our mood and tied one on at East Side Company. From there, we discovered a new Lower East Side hang out called Beast and danced the rest of the night away.

Saturday, on our way to the Renegade Fair I got a voicemail that brother Brian had crashed his motorcycle and was in the hospital. Although he left me the voicemail on Friday, I didn't receive it till I exited the subway on Saturday which made me bash my blackberry against the wall several times. Based on his message, he had taken a serious spill on a corner and hit a guard rail in the process. Although he began his message with, "Not to freak you out," I freaked out. My brother is a blast to be around, and lives life the way I have always aspired to. He's my rock, my best friend, and whenever he takes his adventurous side to far, and gets hurt, I always freak out. I called all of his friends in San Diego to find out which hospital he was in and how I could get a hold of him (which he conveniently left out of his voicemail). I hunted down my parents at their friends house and inquired about his status and finally I spoke with him. Turns out he broke 4 ribs, lacerated his liver, and did some damage to his adrenal gland and lungs.

I'm sure he had to describe me to his friends visiting him in the hospital as the pestering sister, but I called his room at least 4 times over the course of the evening....every time I thought of something that could make him laugh.

Sunday includes lots of back and forth with family and friends. Trying to fill-in and hear more about Brian's condition. I bumped my San Diego trip up a day and began to pack until exhaustion took over.

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