Dog days

It's been a long day at Higgins' and the whole gang is pretty worn out. On the plus side, I finally got to watch a marathon of Be Good Johnny Weir episodes. Happy to be home again.

Bagel therapy

Sometimes on a rainy day when you've been kept awake into the middle of the night by the neighbors, when melancholy won't leave you alone, and even Fran Lebowitz can't make you laugh, you've got to head on over to Ess-a-Bagel and nosh your blues away.

Oh, look who's getting cultured.

Films of the Week:

Monday, Exit Through the Gift Shop with Maggie and Joe (consensus: 3 out of 5 stars)

Wednesday, Domaine at Walter Reade with Veronica (consensus: we loved it)

I much prefer Béatrice Dalle in Domaine than in Betty Blue. Major, major crush.


Book of the Week:

After some post-Alice Munro depression, I became absorbed in Eileen Myles' Inferno (a poet's novel)

Music of the Week:

Milkymee soundtrack from Domaine

All the pieces

Last night, my fortune read, "You can never get all the parts of your life to match up at one time."
-From The Male Cross-Dresser Support Group by Tama Janowitz

(Close your eyes, pick a book off the shelf, open it to a random page, and read your fortune.)

Long-term crush on New York

Last night Joe and I saw Part Two of Angels in America. After thoroughly enjoying Part One, we weren't prepared for new actors to play some of the roles, but once we adjusted to the change, we felt that Part Two was also outstanding.

After the play, I impulsively stopped at a pretzel cart near Port Authority. The air felt celebratory: an amazing play, a day with temperatures in the sixties (I wore sandals!). I don't remember the last time I ate a street vendor pretzel. We weren't more than two bites into our treat when the pretzel flew out of our grasp and painted the sidewalk mustard yellow.

Drunk pedestrians stumbled by, kicking our pretzel this way and that. In truth, the pretzel was stale and my nostalgia had been satisfied by those first bites. Now the pretzel belongs to the pigeons.

Everyday I am amazed by this city.

Reading over your shoulder

Recently I was riding the train home from a long day. Next to me, this young hipster scribbled ferociously in his little notebook. I tried to nonchalantly read what he was writing; his handwriting was too messy. How can I explain how obvious it was that he was hoping someone would take notice? I've never seen someone perform writing as much as this guy.

So anyway, the train is slowly moving along until we are about to arrive at Bedford. Of course he's going to get off in Williamsburg. Where else? I look down one more time, hoping I can just get a sense of what all the fuss is about. And suddenly I watch him write, "If you're reading this right now--" but before he finishes his sentence, I look away. Then he snaps his notebook shut, gets off the train, and stands on the platform, watching me as the train pulls out of the station.

I couldn't read his expression and I was too afraid to spend much time trying. Guilt, confusion, and anger hit me all at once. Was he expecting privacy on the train? Should I have minded my own business? Did it make a difference since I couldn't read his handwriting?

Ultimately, I don't think I did anything wrong. Eavesdropping and picture-taking are standard protocol on the train.

I'd like to put this mystery to rest. I wish I had been brave enough to finish reading his sentence.

And just like that

The lease is signed! It's legal: Joseph and I are moving two blocks away in a little over a month.

Visitation Rights

Friday:

Jim and Pam arrive in New York
BBQ at Fette Sau




Saturday:

Join Jim, Kerry, and Higgins for off-leash in Prospect Park
Joe, Pam, and Jim go shopping in lower Manhattan
Paulie Gee's for pizza
Joe and Gili attend Jenny’s 30th birthday party



Sunday:

Visit Brighton Bazaar and other Russian food shops in Brighton Beach
Coney Island
Shop at Brooklyn Kitchen
Go to the Sarandon Fest and watch Thelma and Louise; Susan Sarandon speaks at BAM
Sri Pra Phai for dinner



Monday:

Joe's parents fly back to Iowa
Joe and Gili go to work
Valentine's dinner at Cafe Habana
Oscar Nominated Live-Action Shorts at IFC





(Some photos were taken by Joseph.)

Symptoms of seasonal sadness

It’s been a frustrating time full of uncertainties and unknowns— lately my anxiety has been higher than usual. It's not all bleak: I am able to sleep and enjoy myself. Last night I remembered my propensity toward depression in the winter. For some reason, this year has felt easier.

But when I break it down, it’s the same as other years:

-Increased need to wear pajamas
-Fascination with the contents of my refrigerator
-Confusion about why there aren’t more mind-numbing reality shows streaming on the Internet.
-Disdain for alarm clocks, even when the sound is the theme song from my beloved Northern Exposure.
-Momentary desires to commit violence (today I imagined punching my fist through a cookie display at a bakery in Chelsea)
-Blank pages daring me to write
-Captivation with the perpetually dripping sink

Yes, I think my old friend, Seasonal Affective Disorder is making an appearance.

Excuse me, do you have the--

Continuing with February's theme of Wait and See, I visited Paula Cooper Gallery to watch two hours of Joe's MFA mentor, Christian Marclay's The Clock. The piece is a curated 24-hour film, marking actual time with clips from films that reference time. In other words, at 2:13 today, Marclay has edited together a cohesive sequence of representations of clocks, watches, and people talking about 2:13. There's lots of room to get comfortable on the couches and lose track of time while knowing exactly what time it is. The show is at once impressive and gimmicky. Most importantly, it's a great way to Wait and See.



Another option for Wait and See month is an evening at Radiance Tea House and a trip to the candy store, Myzel's with a good friend.

Extra credit to one of my favorite authors, Eileen Myles for an honest and hilarious essay on book tours in the back of the current issue of Bookforum.

A Little February-April Fool's

There's snow, ice, and general winter chaos outside. Inside, things have gotten chaotic, too. The current tenant of our (hopefully) new apartment has gotten cold feet and decided that she doesn't want to move out until May 1. Our new landlords are negotiating with her, and will try to persuade her to leave on April 1, so that we can move in. In the meantime, we are stuck in our apartment for two months with the dream of inhabiting our new space on April Fool's Day. Is that an omen? The tenant may choose not to sign a contract agreeing to leave, in which case the apartment will no longer be ours for the taking. It's up to her now. Only time will tell what she will do. How I loathe depending on flaky people.


To celebrate the theme of February, which is "Wait and See," here are three suggestions for what to do while you bide your time:

1. Watch the excellent documentary, Marwencol.
2. Read The Collected Stories of Wallace Stegner. It will take you a while.
3. Go through every season and episode of Northern Exposure. Appreciate that you aren't in Cicely, Alaska.