Weekend Update

Live from New York, it's Saturday Night!!!

*Cue intro music*

Temperatures are hot over here on the East Coast. Rain was supposed to drop more than the Dow this weekend, but luckily the clouds turned out to be big girly teases. Good thing, too, as I did a lot of outdoors stuff this afternoon.

Firstly, can I say how awesome the weekend feels after working Monday to Friday, nine to five? I haven't had a steady schedule like that since high school. Sleep has never felt so good, free time has never been so precious, and nights out have never seemed so promising. Once the weekend hits, the world isn't just wide open. It's conquerable. And I intend to master as much of it as possible.

So what's on this weekend's docket? Well, some new theater friends and I hit up a couple shows (Hair and Chicago), and tomorrow night is the Tony Awards. Myself, a magazine intern, and an MTV intern got tickets to a party at Blondies (hosted by Broadway sensations Annaleigh Ashford and Kyle Riabko), and so -- after some red carpet -- we'll be heading over for all you can eat/drink wings/pop.

This afternoon was pretty awesome; Jesus and I met up at Madison Square Park's Big Apple BBQ for some pulled pork sandwiches. The lineups were insane -- at one point I made a joke to myself that there should be a "fast pass" lane (those who know Disney theme parks know what I'm talking about) and, I kid you not, I looked over and saw this:


That's how crazy these people were about their pulled pork sandwiches. They needed fast passes and NYPD crowd control. Weight Watchers wouldn't have hurt most of them, either, but I managed to keep that tidbit to myself.

After we got our sandwiches, we wandered around the park and enjoyed the view. Twenty steps down the path, I bumped into a naked man.

Literally.

He was a human size statue. Turns out that there's a "modern art" exhibit going on in which some artist has made stone replicas of his naked body and placed them all around downtown New York. There have to be at least three or four dozen of these things, most of which are on tops of buildings staring down at the passing pedestrians.

Now I don't care what anyone says, but that's nucking futs.

It's a bit like a cheesy horror movie. Everywhere you turn, there are naked statues staring at you. You spin a corner, hoping to escape, and then look up and see one on the building above, pointing down with its inappropriate bronze parts.

Trust me. The hottest circles of Hell will freeze over before I cement my naked body and put it on display for tourists to take photos with and pigeons to crap on. Besides, even if I was convinced to go through with it for the sake of art, I wouldn't waste my money making four dozen tiny statues and scattering them around the city. Nooooo, no, no. I'd make one gigantic statue and stick it on top of the bloody Empire State Building so that you could see that beautiful beast from freaking Long Island. And I'd position it just to the South so that Miss Statue of Liberty could get a good view.

What else, what else, what else...

I had a magical falafel from outside Radio City Music Hall last evening. Apparently these mysterious carts only appear late Friday nights, like mystical New York caravans that pop up to grant all your greasy wishes. Thanks go out to the Phillips family for recommending this one -- glad I gave into my midnight craving.

And speaking of street vendors, guess who was seen visiting one sometime yesterday afternoon? Give you a hint: her name starts with Lady and ends with Gaga.

Yep, Mother Monster was caught on camera not too far from my apartment. I'll have to keep an eye out for her in the future, though I suspect spotting those outfits wouldn't be difficult. After all, here's what she wore just to grab a hotdog:


That's it for now. Chicago's soundtrack is still looping in my head, so if I get to bed quickly there might be a chance Roxie Hart makes a special cameo in tonight's dream sequences. Take care and all that jazz.

Devon out.