Reclaiming My Living Room

Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life.
Or maybe it was Sunday.
Or maybe it was Thursday.

Whenever the first day of the rest of my life was, it's here now.
So far, life without Velvet in the apartment is pretty good. Buzz Kill still calls a couple of times a day to check in which I don't quite understand, but he seems well intentioned.

Friday was a good first day of the rest of my life because my living room was filled with vibrant, creative, accomplished, positive people. One of the actresses is also a playwright with a show going up in the fall, Wonder Woman The Musical. Meryl, who wrote And Sophie Comes Too which we were celebrating that night, was also there. She writes a syndicated etiquette column called Ms. Behavior. And they were only two of the witty, talented collection of individuals drinking an excellent punch I made from lemonade, vodka, cointreau, Diet Sprite and tequila. The group was three quarters female, some were lesbians and some were hetero and brought their Significant Others, so there were three straight men there. And the two artistic directors of TOSOS II who produced the play were also there - both gay males.

All in all, it was a very different vibe from the slouchy, Old English 40 swilling teenage boys who have been dropping potato chip crumbs on my sofa.

Next weekend, Gigi is having a dinner party here for her 31st birthday and that will be all women. We may even have a sleep over. She told me the menu, but all I remember is tapas and prosecco.

My neighbor, the mousy accountant, is having to adapt to a different noise level since we play music, sing and dance. The boys played video games and watched Jon Stewart or dumb movies like Watchmen with the volume cranked up. As it happens, the actor who played the big, naked blue guy in that movie had a kid in Gigi's class last year. Jon Stewart did too, as a matter of fact. That's how it is when you're a preschool teacher in New York City. Years ago, Cyndi Lauper brought her kid to my art class at the Y.

I was listening to Cyndi Lauper the other night while I was getting ready and realized that the song She Bop is something of a feminist statement. When that song first came out, back in the olden days when MTV was new and I was an undergrad, nice girls barely even knew the word "masturbate." At least not in Texas. I believe that the girls at the boarding school the Rebbe Mohammed McCrory attended were very interested in each other's individual accomplishments in that area, but they were in Connecticut.



Here is Cyndi in Paris

After Gigi's party, I believe we can safely declare that the living room has been reclaimed for the grown ups and start planning the Gemini Party. It's been a while since I had a Gemini Party. This year it will be in October and I'm inviting all the Geminis even if they cordially detest each other. One of them has been threatening to toss the other off the terrace for hitting on her girl friend - but I expect that little contretemps has taken on a golden-rose tinge of nostalgia by now.