And of ’20s swimwear:

There were also a bunch of old autos:

To get to Governor’s Island, you have to take a ferry from Battery Park.  It took us a little while to find the ferry.

Once we found the ferry, we boarded with a hoard of people, then quickly went to the back deck, where we found an empty bench.

H took advantage of the short ferry ride to french braid S’s hair:

The ferry had a lot of very well-dressed ’20s-style folk aboard.

Here are what the ferry slips look like from out on the water:

Once we got to Governor’s Island, we disembarked and walked around looking for the lawn party.  Governor’s Island is a state-owned park that was a military base forever, back through the Civil War.  More recently, it was used as a Coast Guard base, until the mid-90s when the government sold the island to New York State.  Since then, there’ve been a number of large-scale art installations,attractions and programs on the island aimed at getting people to take advantage of the free ferry and enjoy the island.  Currently, there’s free biking certain days of the week, and rental bikes the rest of the time.  There’s a Civil War fort in the middle, and a number of lovely wood-and-brick homes and tree-lined avenues.  There are also abandoned facilities – a library, a dental clinic, etc. – from the recent past.

Here are some photos of the houses and lawns:

But we had a party to attend . . .

But first, we got donuts.

Peter Pan donuts is a Greenpoint institution. The servers wear these kitschy outfits, and kitschy sour expressions, and there’s a little counter and everything.

The donuts fortified us for the hour-plus train ride down to Far Rockaway. When we got there, though, we needed lunch. We went to the best diner in Far Rockaway, according to the owner, who told us that several times, so I figure it must be true.

And then. . . beach!  I’d never been to Rockaway beach before – it was really crowded, but nice. I even went swimming, which I almost never do at beaches off of large cities.  My only bathing suit (which I bought at Old Navy five years ago for about $3 and wore all through five countries in all sorts of situations) had finally bit the dust, so I wore an old strapless bra.  I don’t think anyone could tell the difference.

You’re not technically allowed to have beer on the beach, so we had to be really subtle with our bartending.

Some of us brought fancy cheese:

And some, less fancy cheese:

When you’re at the beach, you pretty much have to dig a giant hole at some point.

Some of my friends made this awesome happy birthday land shark!

Overall, a delightful birthday!  (Well, until we tried to leave Rockaway and there was a track fire and no train service, and it ended up [for various reasons] taking us four and a half hours to get home . . . but other than that, a loverly day!)

Let’s all make sure to take advantage of whatever nearby seashores we have access to, before this wave rolls in:

1. Always respect a closed door. We renounce private property, not personal privacy. 




2. Everyone must take their turn selling our soaps, veggies and textiles at the farmers’ market on Sundays. Everyone is equally averse to working the booth, so no excuses for shirking work duty will be accepted. “Writing” is no excuse for missing work duty. We all have ample hours for “writing.”




3. When using the kitchen, library, bathroom, stables, gardens, workrooms and other common spaces, your wish to remain undisturbed can be indicated by donning your “invisible hat.” Anyone not wearing an invisible hat will be assumed to be open to an exchange of greetings and possible small talk. If everyone but you is wearing an invisible hat, find a good book. 
   Special note due to recent issues::  being under the influence of a substance is no excuse for ignoring someone’s invisible hat. If you feel you must communicate something immediately, write a note, set it down in an obvious place, and walk away.




4. All communications are to be made via community corkboard. Please check the corkboard frequently for relevant messages, but that said, please do not approach if someone is already reading the corkboard. No one likes a hoverer. If you do receive a message, you are encouraged to go to your room and think about it for a couple of days before responding.




5. When using the communal bathroom, if you get the sense that someone is attempting to defecate, please do your business and move along; don’t stand around brushing your teeth and staring at your skin in the mirror.




6. Please use headphones for all music, movies, etc., and please chew with your mouth closed. Excessive coughing, muttered expressions of disgust or delight, laughing, weeping or other vocalizations will not be tolerated. Please do not wear heeled shoes or flip-flops. Please make every effort to be as generally unobtrusive as you would have others be.




7. Unfortunately, we here at Separate Commons have come to realize that we must enforce one mandatory social gathering per month, so that members of the community can recognize each other by sight. Rest assured, all social events will have clearly pre-determined start and finish times, as well as a definite, stated activity and objective. You will not find yourself mingling. We will consider special exemptions for those who would ordinarily attend, but who just really, really do not want to right now.




8. Separate Commons is a community for introverts, not for hermits or misanthropists. If anyone is deemed to be behaving in an hostile or antisocial manner, they will be asked to leave. Please check the corkboard frequently for notices to vacate.

I don’t think I’ll ask her again…

Sure, long hair’s fun and all:

But it’s not so great for camping in hot weather.

Luckily, my roommate S thought she might like to try cutting it!  This was a good plan, because it would be immediate and free.  First, S sorted my hair into pigtails (btw, I don’t actually have any skin imperfections – I know that looks like a big zit, but it was probably something weird on my camera lens):

Next, she drew a line on my neck about where I wanted my hair to end up.  See the line there?  And then started to cut.

The cutting went on for a long time:

At one point, I looked at S, and she looked sort of crazy, or maybe like she wasn’t really so sure how to give a professional haircut:

I began to get a little worried and frightened:

And then, S got the scissors stuck in my hair and it took us awhile to pull them out.

But finally, the job was done:

The hair ended up pretty close to the line we’d drawn, and it was almost even on both sides!  I was happy with the cut’s efficiency and freeness, and would turn to S again in a pinch.

__

(Thanks to my clever, clever roommate for thinking this up and making us do it, even though we were all tired and whiny!  See also:  this Improv Everywhere stunt.  I don’t know if this is where S got the idea or if the subway just suggests such activities!)

I thought I looked nice!