Activity Partners!

The nice weather seems to have given me Spring/Cabin Fever. A chat over lunch got me excited for Coney Island-bound bike rides complete with mangos on sticks and day-long skee ball tournaments. A fellow Phila ex-pat and I prattled on about all the things we miss of our step-behind small town, like gritty, old watering holes and late night pretzle rides, and things yet to discovered and participate in or new city. By then end I was so amped about gallery-hopping, explorative biking, tree climbing, and about-towning that I nearly forgot I was a grown-up and had to go back to work.
*Sad face, kicks dirt*
...
When I first got here, to New York, I signed up for mailing lists and newsletters to help me esablish a social calendar, as was reccomended to me by nearly everyone I talked to. Problem is that I signed up for all of the mailing lists and newsletters. It got to be a bit overwhelming. That and my jaded New York pals were more content to stick to their orthodoxed neighborhoods. They seemed to prefer a comprehensive knowledge all about the hip-happenings across the 5 (4, sorry Staten Island) burroughs rather than weekends peppered with actual outings and experiences. I suppose I too, will become a seasoned New Yorker and opt to nuzzle a scotch in my appointed favorite pub, but for now I'm in that awesome in-between state. Half tourist, half actual resident. Unfortunately I've taken an inverse reaction to the onslaught of go-heres and see-theses. My zest cooled with the season and my social life slowed.

Not that there wasn't a ton of fun things to do in the city of fraternal homicide, but if there was some particular hobby-genre left unfullfilled or a certain night of the week begging for a permanent appointment all you had to do was make it happen. And I guess I sorta got used to that. I threw parties for any and all occasions, but seriously, does Brooklyn need another DIY-party princess? Don't temp me- I'll turn into Martha Stewart of the 212/718 quicker than key bumps at Studio B roller disco. I host game-nights, movie nights, shwank potlucks, and BYOM (bring your own mug) picnic-park-brunches. But before I have to build a web-ap for booking the living room (MY living room) I think I oughtta give the millions of other things another once-over. If this sounds like a straw that might break your camel-back, feel free to use cake&icecream's "Weekend Distillery" posts. A further condensation of the many mass mailings that crowd my inbox all boiled down to my favorites and delivered on a delicious blog.

So I guess what I'm saying is: it's nice out, let's GO GO GO! I'm liable to spray paint a twister mat on my living room floor and have you all over for hot totties and competive baking. Oh, and if we do make it out to Coney Island, I will fucking own you at skee-ball. Try me.