magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

Yesterday evening, in the process of collecting together all of the cardboard boxes and newspapers that I have accumulated over the past year, I found that the big box that my air conditioner came in, which was sitting in my studio next to the radiator that until two weeks ago (read: all last winter) didn't work, was soaking wet, from the floor up. The big nut connecting the radiator to the hot water pipe had been leaking, seeping into the floor, and destroying, rather fortunately amongst all my books, electronics, and artwork collected this summer from Stef, only an empty cardboard box. Putting a pan under the drip last night, I found out just how fast it had been leaking. Fast. 'Do you have a really big wrench?' I asked Chris on the phone this morning.

'How big is the nut?'

'Big. Like two inches. Maybe two and a half?'

'I don't think my adjustable wrench opens that wide, but I'll check and bring it to brunch if it does.' It didn't. I was considering a trip to Home Depot, after brunch, to buy a big honking wrench. 'And after you've fixed the radiator, you'll have a murder weapon,' Chris said.

'Yeah, just like in Clue.' I didn't get the wrench though. A few other pre-party errands, then home to clean.

And by nine, the official start time on the invite, I had a done a pretty respectable job of it. Which did involve some indiscriminate stuffing of things into closets, but also involved hanging some artwork on the walls (which I had somehow neglected to do for a whole year), vacuuming (which probably pushed Chesterfield, who was already freaked out by the frantic cleaning, over the edge), and generally making the place both more pleasant and more presentable.

By ten, no one had yet shown up. George had let me know that he couldn't afford the trip down from Burlington. CeZanne (from work) had called to say that she had never come into Manhattan today (she lives way out at the end of the F line in Queens) and apologized, but didn't think that she could make it.

Chris get there a few minutes after ten. And on his heels, Erik, who would be the only person from work to come. (He had called towards the end of my April Fools Party to apologize for not making it out, and had promised to come the next time, which didn't happen until tonight.)

I wasn't sure if any of the Bush Gardens crew would come, I hadn't seen any of them for the better part of the last two months, and hadn't invited any of them in person. But Rob showed up with Dani, and soon after Marie and Dan as well.

Paolo drove up from Williamsburg, with Ryan (the two of them had been at the last party) and Steve this time as well. They probably would have brought Reid along, but he had just earlier today returned, presumably, as they hadn't seen him yet, from his Hawaiian book signing tour.

Then my cousin Tom, who only this fall moved to the city to return to college (at Columbia) and his girlfriend Claire.

A slightly larger turnout than last time. Still small, but nice. I had a good time. Made some fancy drinks. (Including a new concoction of my own, a beet juice martini: 2 1/2 oz of Hendrick's Gin, 1/2 oz beet juice, 1/2 oz triple sec, splash of Rose's Lime Juice, stir over ice, strain, garnish with three large blackberries.)

Things wound down relatively early. There's a few people who I would have liked to have seen. I'm eternally grateful to those who did make it out. And, for my money, for the party to have erred on the intimate, low-key side is better than for it to have gotten large and rowdy and crazy out of hand. I think I'm really just more of a dinner/cocktail party type (at the very least when it comes to hosting) and for all my stressing about them, that's the direction that my parties have gone.