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And so on this sunny day, I will depart for Hoboken, which is an old Algonquin word meaning “Land of Red Cups”.

Jessica and her flatmates hosted us on their brilliant rooftop deck for yet another BBQ this summer. Pretty standard, really. The whole “who wants a burger” thing was in full effect, as was the beer pong. *sigh*

All in all a pleasant afternoon — not too hot, none were too drunk, and so forth. And in typical Hoboken fashion, the day was speckled with lots of pretty girls, many of whom were smoking, all of whom wanted nothing to do with me.

Now that it’s officially Summer, ’tis the season for BBQs, weddings, and being lazy. No weddings this weekend but did manage to attend two dinners/BBQs with old friends.

To Joaquin’s house, this time in honour of Ezie, who finally earned himself a bachelor’s. To celebrate, a pig was roasted. Can’t argue with results. My family were all there, as was Charlie.

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No, I don’t have Alzheimer’s, but I will be moving for the start of September. Oy, more real estate drama in NYC, this should be fun. And by fun, I mean torture.

Mike and I are hoping to find a place together. I’m not sure if that helps or hurts. One the one hand, it means we can get our own lease, and become more legitimate adults living and working in the City. But on the other hand, it means we can’t use to our advantage the trend and abundance of sublets and add/drop roommates that is so common among youngsters in New York. Should be a helluva ride.

Johanna, the newest graduate in the Perez-Fox clan, has finally returned home. And as part of the humiliating series of rituals that occur after earning a bachelor’s degree, she played host to a graduation party at our house on this fine Saturday afternoon.

Had to leave early, however, to catch Madeleine Peyroux at the Beacon Theatre. Jessica joined me in the last possible highest row of the auditorium for what was all-in-all a tidy and enjoyable show. The music was much better than these photos:

Pope Happycat I

I’m a little late to the party with the whole LoLCat fad. In fact, I’ve only just discovered that the term LoLCat, used by Veronica Belmont, et al. actually refers to those cheeky-captioned images of cats and other pets. Wikipedia has a longer-winded definition. Chances are if you’ve seen em, you know what I’m talking about.

So I’ve been browsing Flickr, Google, and anywhere else to provide me with a good laugh at the expense of these terribly cute and unsuspecting felines.

Yes, it’s true what y’all are thinking, I do need a girlfriend a hobby medicationto get out more.

Tomorrow, my roommate returns from 2 weeks in the land of China. I’ve been living alone for what seems like forever, and lemme just re-assert how much living solo rocks! Those who know me — most likely anyone reading this blog — will remember those two years in 2001–2003 when I lived solo in Philadelphia. It had it’s ups and downs, but these last two weeks have been all me.

Doc and I get along, generally. I’ve heard a fair few NY horror stories about flatmates, especially from twentysomethings in less-than-opulent living situations, so the situation defilly could be worse. Still, in the weeks before he fled to China, we were both becoming a bit on edge, and as much as he yearned for a holiday from whatever-he-does, I needed a break from him.

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Returning, as I do twice annually, to Drexel to watch the Dance Ensemble put on a little show (and dance). As the years roll by, I seem to know fewer and fewer of the dancers on stage, and I find myself feeling older and older in comparison. Still, it’s always nice to see the familiar faces that turn up, or haven’t left, in the case of Lauren C. AJ, of all people, turned up for what I think is the first time since graduation. Now that is a person I generally wish I saw more of.

And afterwards we found ourselves in Mad Mex, that old bar/restaurant with the big margaritas and the salty chips. I don’t drink, which made this night another one those “sober guy” nights. Oy.