Capturing the dusk hues of that lovely, warm east village light - Roof of 713 East 9th, NY - July 2004

Coney Island

It might have been all those margaritas and glasses of wine, or that third gin and tonic, or the combination thereof. I met up with Paul, an old friend who was in town, at No Malace Palace, remember flirting with a red-headed boy at the bar, and have vague memories of breaking down crying because we were talking about matters to serious for that time of night and that level of intoxication - how embarrassing. I faintly remember stumbling into Lakeside Lounge to take pics in the photo booth, then going home.

I pried myself out of bed at around 3 pm, and forced myself to meet Ali at the F stop - she seemed to be moving at lightening speed compared to me. I couldn't handle more than a slow shuffle at this point. Nothing like an hour and a half subway ride (on the F*ckin Forever no less) to Coney Island to cure ones Fourth of July hangover.

Several times I thought I would vomit on the train. Once there, Ali ate a Nate's hot dog while I continued to be nauseous for another hour or so. Then, miraculously, because I thought the moment would never come, I felt better. It was like this wave of relief that washed over me.

That night, we ate sushi on my balcony, watched the fireworks from the corner of 9th and C, and enjoyed the balmy weather. Ali went home and I intended to clean and settle in for a relaxing evening at home. No such luck. Paul calls, he and Pete and Nellie wanted to go dancing. I end up going out drinking & dancing at Bob's till 5 a.m.