10 October
So yesterday was all fun and social.
I went into the city to meet Tracing and discuss my darkroom that she's doing a quick design for my Mom's new house. Terrible sentence, that. I meant that I'm getting a darkroom in the house that my Mom is building, and Tracing is designing it for me.
Anyway, we met at a little bakery cafe called Once Upon a Tart (which sounds like a fairy tale whorehouse to me) on Sullivan St. and I got off at the Prince St. station and walked down Prince St. mouth agape.
I hadn't actually realized that I had never been on Prince St. before, especially since I passed the Prince St. station on the R every day for ten years, so it was very familiar to me. But it was wonderful! All these cute shops, nothing chain-y, everything very clever and original, and in front of every store was a street vendor also selling something clever and original.
I am entirely unfamiliar with SoHo, below Houston I'm lost, but at that moment I decided that it was actually better than my beloved Village and I was overwhelmed with the desire to live down there.
Speaking of being ten years behind the times. I'm so cutting edge.
Anyway, we hashed out the darkroom, basing it on the ones at Photographics Unlimited, and the funny thing was that I had written everything down as it was, without knowing the reason for that particular design, and then as we would discuss it, all would become clear.
Why does the sink not go all the way to the ground? So that you have a place to put the rubbish bin. Why is the side of the counter angled like that? So that you can get in there to your tray. Everything makes sense.
Then we walked over to the restaurant to meet Amanda and Jeff, and Lucy and John, and their hosts Patrick and Teresa, and another friend of Lucy's whose name I have forgotten.
We ate at a lovely Italian restaurant in the Village just behind NYU with waiters with such thick accents that Jeff and Amanda suspected them of taking the piss, Joe Dolce-like. They didn't quite say Whassamattau, but almost.
At one point they sang Happy Birthday to another table, and had the best solution to the name problem that I have ever heard. They sang:
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday como se llama
Happy birthday to you!
Happy birthday, whatsyourname! Too funny.
Anyway, I had the lamb chops and tiramisu (when the bill came I exclaimed "$50 for the lamb chops!" but it was pointed out to me that that was for two servings, mine and John's. I mean, they were good, but...) and everything was great, especially the company and the conversation.
I wish that there was some Diarist Village where all of my favourite people could come live so that I could see people like Lucy and Amanda more often.
Afterwards, Amanda and Jeff drove me home on the express condition that they be allowed to see the inside of my house. Which is what the title of this entry refers to. I insisted on rushing in to sweep up the cat poop before allowing them in, but other than that they saw it in its full and filthy glory.
I had run out of toilet paper, and was using paper towels, there were dirty dishes everywhere, I have no place for anyone to sit down because I always sit on the bed, it was awful. At least I had taken out the trash that morning. Could have been worse. Could have been raining.
Amanda made friends with all of my suspicious cats but the elusive Elvis (Cynthia never even saw him the first six months I lived here, so no surprise there) and declared Milo to be her favorite, as Melody did. He may not have the personality of the others, but he's malleable.
For those of you who are fans of the lovely and talented Amy Lester and her not updated nearly often enough journal When In Doubt Use Parsley, it has moved!
So change your bookmarks and check out the swell new entry.
Today's horoscope:
You will feel torn between the familiar and comfortable versus the new and exciting. Your best bet is a combination of the two.
One year ago today:
"What are you complaining about? I was a cow when you first met me, what the hell did you expect? Kate Moss?"
* Yesterday / Index / This Month / Tomorrow *
Autumn Red by:
Beth!
This page was written by hand. My hand. Only
pussies use HTML editors.
Last Updated Sun 10 October 14:40:09 1999