What could be better than adding Jen Lancaster to our group and heading to the beach?
Nothing, that's what.
The day was hot and sunny, but much cooler and breezier at the beach, which was broad and sandy and clean. The surf was active, bugs were minimal, and Susie Sunshine was a complete lunatic.
Apparently there's nothing these corn-fed Midwestern damsels enjoy more than diving straight into a rip tide and getting pummeled by the surf for an hour of high-pitched hilarity, unless it's bringing their pal Jen along for the ride.
Let me tell you, that surf was crazy stuff. I kept my butt glued to my chair, and even I got soaked and ended up with sand in my swimsuit.
That evening was blackbird's low-key and lovely birthday celebration. 'bird's mother came over and she is hilarious--very chic and elegant. But she had this smoker's voice that made me think she could handle anything, and she could.
For example: she handled Susie's potty mouth just fine, which was pretty fucking impressive, if you ask me.
'bird's mother brought two of those Nabisco Chocolate Wafer cakes--the ones where you use nothing but chocolate wafer and whipped cream. Lord, were they good.
Much wine was drunk.
Today we got organized in the morning, then drove into the city to do a variety of individual things, all perfectly tailored to our personalities: Wendy hung out with her brother-in-law the publishing powerhouse; Jen met with some people to discuss a very big deal, Susie met with three possibly insane fans and then took a nausea-inducing backwards cab ride at 90 miles per hour; I shopped.
I went to Hermes and Scully and Scully and embarrassed myself by acting like a straw-chewing rube from the hinterlands, all "gawrsh!" and "shucks" and "does that come in any other colors?"
A good time was had by all.
Then Jen, Susie, Susie's new fan Sandy, and I went to what used to be called the Park Avenue Cafe and is now called Park Avenue Summer. Dinner was simply sumptuous; soft-shelled crab and steak and lobster and corn rissotto and friend artichoke hearts and stuffed squash blossoms and desserts galore.
Now we are stuffed and happy.
Jen and I tottered back to our digs for an evening of air conditioned peace and quiet, but Susie Sunshine and new fan Sandy headed downtown to meet Wendy and go to the Cubby Hole, a lezbean bar I went to about twenty years ago when the internet was young and you, dear reader, were merely a gleam in your parole officer's eye.
And so to bed.