Derek was kind enough to invite me to a barbecue on the deck of a yacht he had rented for his family to stay on while they visited New York.  Between the ferry commute and the view, it almost made me consider living across the Hudson.  But then I came back to my senses.

Am off to Maine tonight with Greta and the Lovely Miss Katie — our goal is to have as much lobster as humanly possible.  Have a great weekend, everyone!

Scene: A crowded, unairconditioned subway, drenched (from the torrential downpour and from sweat) on the way home from the Philharmonic concert in Central Park (thanks, Teddi, for organizing!).  I am with Gabe, a friend.  We’re chatting the whole way about this, that and the other thing.  We’re both standing for a chunk of the trip downtown, and when a seat opens up, he offers it to me.  We continue to chat, but he squats down so that it’s easier for us to hear each other.  He departs at 14th Street and I continue on.

The woman sitting next to me turns to me and says, "I know it’s none of my business, but that guys is totally into you."  "Really?"  I laugh.  "I don’t think so."  "Why not?" she asks.  "Well, when I met him a few years back, we went out on what I thought was a date, but at the end of it, it was very clear that he didn’t think it was.  We reached a subway stop and he said, ‘This is my stop.  Which way are you going?’"  She paused for a minute, and then replied.  "I still think he’s into you.  After a few drinks you should lure him into a dark alley and shove your tongue down his throat."  "I’ll certainly keep that plan in mind."

And on a completely unrelated note — I barely took any pictures this weekend, but here are the few I took.

I was reading "The Taming of the Slur," a recent article in the New York Times about the use of the word slut — essentially how it was overused to the point that it really didn’t mean so much these days.  The article was very interesting, but I read one statistic in it that nearly made me spit out my coffee:   
"According to a government report released last year ("Sexual Behavior and Selected Health Measures"), men age 30 to 44 have had a median of six to eight sexual partners in their lifetimes. The women’s median was about four."  I am making no personal comments on this one, but let’s just say that this provided great conversation fodder at the beach this past weekend.  Another hot topic was "Fantasy Fuck Island" — if you were stranded with three celebrities on an island, who would they be?  I selcted (at least for the time being) Ed Burns, Ed Norton Jake Gyllenhaal*, and Jamie Oliver.  Who would be on yours?

* With a nod to La Depressionada, who makes a valid point below.  I think my boyfriend Jake would do the trick (and apparently he is set to change the image of hip male Jews everywhere.  I’ll say.).