deadlightsgirl | (no subject)

I know we haven't spoken in ages, but the other day was fun and weird enough to warrant a blog. Let's talk Wednesday.

It would've been way less complicated if I had slept the night before, but I went to bed too late, and Gracie decided 4 AM was the right time to party. In fairness to her, she has been listening to the rule about "if you want to be up, please play quietly in your room so Mama can sleep" - only this doesn't really work on school days, when there can't be naps for her later. In the trying to coax her back to sleep, I of course did not sleep any more.

Deciding sleep was for suckers, I hotchamatcha-ed up and drove into the city. Parked at 95th and Broadway for reasons that will become clear later, then trained down to Bryant Park to have lunch with my friend MJ. I was a bit early and had to pee, so I went into the Algonquin Hotel around the corner. That was when the weirdness began - I suddenly found myself bathed in sweat and kind of woozy. I sat in the lobby for a bit and felt a little better, but then when I went round to meet him in his office lobby, then on to Cosi to get lunch, things got bad. Massively nauseous, very woozy, needing to sit down and throw up RIGHT NOW, which I did on the sidewalk in front of Cosi. After a few good heaves (dry ones) behind my hair and a bunch of deep breaths, I was okay-ish enough to get to a table in Bryant Park. I felt bad because MJ was clearly worried about me, even suggesting the ER once, but the good bit was that the lunch had been planned so that he could fill me in on stuff going on in his life, so even though my conversation wasn't glowing, his talking distracted me somewhat. I ate about two bites of my salad and then came heaving part two. Again, this made me feel better enough that I was able to get up, go with him up to his office (he works for the BBC), appreciate the tour and especially the part with the bathroom, and then I actually felt normal again. I decided to blame the VERY large cardboard standy of the Silence in the middle of the office. BTW, they have a whole office just for Doctor Who stuff. There are pics of it on my facebook, including the 7-foot Dalek painted on the wall.

Though feeling much better, I made my walk down to Penn Station to meet the lovely

lastwordy_mcgee to celebrate her birthday a leisurely one, which was a good thing - I happened to glance in the window of a garment district store and saw a FANTASTIC knockoff of River Song's Diesel jacket from the Pandorica episodes. The place was a wholesalers', not retail, but they sold it to me for DIRT cheap anyway. I wrapped it in the Doctor Who tees MJ had vicked from work for me and

ladyjoust , and went on my happy dorkish way. I got an ice cream pop, which was gentle on the tummy, and all was well.

We trained it out to Brooklyn and got to The Way Station just in time for happy hour, which was an absolutely delightful hour. Neither of us had ever been to TWS, and it was geekish and wonderful (and empty but for us, a way I like my bars). The bartender and owner were cute and fun, drinks were inexpensive and yummy, and of course...peeing in the TARDIS. Lastwordy is a friend I don't see as much as I'd like, and an ideal bar buddy for me - since we are both strong-personalitied women who also understand the concept of being a good girlfriend, there is never any question of anyone being a sidekick (wingman, yes. Sidekick, no), and it is a lovely dynamic of equal awesomeness which isn't easy for a strong-willed chick to find unless she holds herself way back. Surprisingly, the two drinks I had sat fairly well. Too soon, we hugged the cute bar guys (leaving each with his own cat pin), and trained back into the city for the rest of the evening.

Cut to Symphony Space and an evening of readings hosted by Neil Gaiman. He read Troll Bridge, which I am always happy to hear again, and I enjoyed Kat Howard's story, which I hadn't heard before (introduced myself at interval and gave her a cat pin). Turned out Neil planned to sign things in the lobby afterwards, so in the interest of not being stuck there all night, we opted to stand for the second half. Good thing for me, because all of a sudden the stomach thing came back. Not so much with nausea, just massive amounts of acid and an inability to stop spitting so I wouldn't throw up. The down side was that I missed the second half (with my favourite Borges story and one by Neil I didn't know, drat), but the up side was that I wandered down to the cafe to see if feeding the belly would help it (it didn't), and made friends with this delightful employee who runs some wacky performance art-type show, and was impressed with my needlepoint (I need to make more cat pins). Went back upstairs, show ended, we got into a line not far at all from the front (and in fact right in front of a lovely mother and daughters I had met at the WI thing and seen at another Neil event since), and I kept my stomach at bay somehow. Saw Neil, hugged, he was his usual charming self, happy to see me, and said he expected a full report on what I thought of "The Doctor's Wife" when I finally see the complete version. Got to introduce Lastwordy to him (we hadn't expected him to be signing as part of the evening, so it was extra birthday happy for her), eventually said goodnight and left.

Picked up car half a block away (I TOLD you I parked up there for a reason), dropped Lastwordy off at Penn, then wended my way home, my stomach yowling at me the whole way. Got home, fed it some vanilla soy milk, and it was FINE. Go figure (next time, I am going to bring some of that shit on the road with me). Stayed up way too late uploading pics of us in the TARDIS and then giggling over peoples' reactions to the pics, but got Gracie off to school in the morning and went the hell back to sleep, had a sort of day yesterday, actually slept well, and now am RARIN to go for a walk and CLEAN MY GODDAMN HOUSE. Well, maybe not raring to go, but I'm gonna do it.