tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62328942011-04-21T17:06:31.259-04:00pondering personal postsShall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comBlogger461100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1075568153465514072004-01-31T11:54:00.000-05:002004-01-31T11:58:07.793-05:00

I've gotten tired of the banner at the top of the page. I've also decided to bite the bullet and use movable type for this blog. Please change your links to this: http://www.226-design.com/grey/ and this is the last time I'll move the address. I promise.

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1075502019568782822004-01-30T17:03:00.000-05:002004-01-30T17:35:53.153-05:00

It's cold out. I'm listening to reggae to warm up. In college, I met a girl who thinks of Christmas when she hears Bob Marley. During winter break, she worked at a place that made fruit baskets. The other employees were from the Carribean and they would play reggae throughout the season. She told this to us towards the end of the summer. The windows were open and I was cycling through a number of

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1075440971147043652004-01-30T00:10:00.000-05:002004-01-30T00:40:23.793-05:00

I once saw Luciano Pavarotti emerge from a limousine. I was walking home from Lincoln Center. I had gone to Tower Records and spent more money than I should have on opera cds. While browsing their selections, I had determined to buy a recording by Cecilia Bartoli of French chansons, but was debating whether to spend the money on an entire Verdi opera with Maria Callas singing the title role. It

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1075391530686586892004-01-29T10:36:00.000-05:002004-01-29T10:58:24.733-05:00

This morning I caught myself looking right before left when crossing West Broadway. Growing up in America, I was taught to look left, then right, then left again. In New York, the majority of the streets are one-way, and so I look in only one direction depending on whether the street is an even or odd number. I began looking to the right first after my trip to Southeast Asia. While each country

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1075388071385287762004-01-29T09:35:00.000-05:002004-01-29T22:25:50.466-05:00

Although I grew up in the 80s, I didn't see the films of that decade until later. Long Duck Dong was as unfamiliar to me as Lloyd Dobler until after college, when I decided to rent the movies my friends quoted and referenced throughout high school. Last night I rented Better Off Dead. To a certain extent, I've grown up with John Cusak. In Better Off Dead, he's the awkward teenager who needs the

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1075313757465832622004-01-28T13:06:00.000-05:002004-01-28T13:21:17.496-05:00

I walked past a Big Apple Tour bus this morning stuck on the corner of Spring and Wooster. While negotiating the corner, the wheels became encased in snow. A few tourists looked out from within at a small lot usually filled with clothes and jewelry vendors. The driver and tour guide walked around the bus with shovels. A few years ago, I was stuck on a city bus during a blizzard. The bus slowly

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1075301087828710972004-01-28T09:37:00.000-05:002004-01-28T09:46:58.060-05:00

I've been dreaming of the same house for the past few nights. I always see it from the same angle, emerging from between two hills, a tree to the right, and a shed at the back. On the shed are painted the letters "LCD." While the physical house is the same from dream to dream, its purpose is different. There are different occupants, and I am coming up to the house for different reasons. I can

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1075267561725214682004-01-28T00:14:00.000-05:002004-01-28T00:28:11.686-05:00

I walked out in the snow this evening to buy a pint of ice cream. Flakes brushed my umbrella; snow crunched underfoot. Snow fell my first night in New York. I had come from Boston to interview for a job at St. Martin's Press. Afterwards, I called a college friend I knew to be in the city. We met for lunch, and he mentioned Henry Threadgill had a gig that night at the Knitting Factory. He offered

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1075232088099750012004-01-27T14:21:00.000-05:002004-01-27T14:50:22.233-05:00

There's a place on 45th street between Lexington and Third called oms/b which serves rice balls. There's another café on Mulberry that does the same. I love the place on 45th. It's a small shop and very clean. Upon entering you can smell the cooked rice. I've only recently started eating rice balls. Simmy and I discovered the place on 45th a few months ago, and now, on my lunch trips uptown, I

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1075220023216885212004-01-27T10:48:00.000-05:002004-01-27T14:17:34.076-05:00

A friend of Li-T emailed me yesterday. She had recently returned from Cambodia and is thinking of putting together a website to promote her friend's tour company. Along with her request she sent me a link to her photos. I was in Southeast Asia in 2000 and spent a week at Angkor. It was was one of the best weeks of my life. Looking at her photographs, I remember the intricate beauty of Banteay

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1075179198250911442004-01-26T23:36:00.000-05:002004-01-27T14:49:18.950-05:00

In college I saw a production of Jacques Brel is Alive and Well and Living in Paris. I had no idea who he was. The show was presented as a cabaret, featuring Brel's songs translated into English. Later, I heard Brel himself when a friend played one of his records over brunch, and I heard the same songs rendered in their native tongue. It was the second time I heard "Ne Me Quitte Pas," and that

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1075175403157491232004-01-26T22:41:00.000-05:002004-01-27T15:11:36.670-05:00

On Sunday, I gave G prints of some photographs I took at her birthday party. We met at Lin's, who cooked a great New Year's dinner. (One of the more interesting observations made was that Judy Dean wears Aisics, the marathoner's footwear of choice.) As she flipped through the pictures, I stopped her to ask the name of one of her friends. Ah, that's E——, she said. She's the girl I was trying to

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1075133384348469232004-01-26T10:35:00.000-05:002004-01-26T14:35:21.513-05:00

I can't stop listening to Power, Corruption, and Lies. Growing up in a Connecticut suburb, I was an alien to the Asian affinity for electronic bands in the 80s. I was introduced to Depeche Mode through Violator, rather than any of the previous albums that lent their hits to 101, and the true power of "Bizarre Love Triangle" (pre-Frente) didn't manifest itself until I visited Taiwan. In high

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1075092746498021502004-01-25T23:42:00.000-05:002004-01-27T14:48:17.110-05:00

I haven't had a galette du roi this year. I don't have one every year, but I think about it. They're only available in January, to celebrate The Feast of the Kings. I was introduced to the cakes four or five years ago by Anaïs. French tradition dictates that whomever finds the prize baked inside is king or queen for the day. In the past the surprise was a fève—a large, flat bean. More recently it

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1075047761585353542004-01-25T11:13:00.000-05:002004-01-25T15:57:45.013-05:00

I'm listening to Cyndi Lauper's first album, She's So Unusual. At dinner on Friday one of the topics of conversation was 80s music. The Lightning Seeds, a band that I had all but forgotten, was mentioned, and after this I'll have to dig out their album, if only to hear "Pure." Cyndi Lauper came up in another 80s conversation yesterday. After "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun," the chords of the next

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1075016435660086142004-01-25T02:18:00.000-05:002004-01-27T14:20:48.293-05:00

The other day, I heard someone mention that huo guo is a traditional Chinese New Year meal. I hadn't heard of that before, but found myself at an all-you-can-eat huo guo buffet for dinner. David was meeting a group of friends he met during the Overseas Chinese Youth Language Training and Study Tour to the Republic of China and invited me to join them. I attended the same study tour years before.

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074981538143251352004-01-24T16:52:00.000-05:002004-01-24T17:02:51.920-05:00

I took the G train for the first time today. I've lived in New York for six some years. The subways were running irregularly due to weekend construction, and some local trains were running express. The electronic announcements didn't change, however. And so, as we were running express on the uptown 6, the annoucements came every minute. Now approaching Canal Street (ping) . . . now approaching

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074921091015757892004-01-24T00:03:00.000-05:002004-01-24T00:13:35.670-05:00

On the subway home I stood beside a man who held an envelope and two photographs in his hands. The envelope had been quickly torn; the stamps indicated it was an international letter. One photograph showed a young child wearing a blue jacket. In his hands, the child held a paper cup. A blue straw, the color of his jacket, pointed towards his face. The child was looking at the camera, his

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074880543848239732004-01-23T12:47:00.000-05:002004-01-23T13:00:12.013-05:00

I'm so glad they released Georgia. It's the only serif typeface I use on the web, if only because it has non-lining figs. Matthew Carter, the designer, has this to say about it: 'At the time I started Georgia I had been working on a new retail family (called Miller, still not released) which is a version of Scotch Roman. I have always admired Scotch, particularly in its early forms as cut by

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074867271102853692004-01-23T09:06:00.000-05:002004-01-23T09:16:34.860-05:00

In Steele's talk last night he told of an experiment to measure the effect of identity threat. The researcher tells a white male subject that he's to have a conversation with two other people, either two blacks or two whites. The conversation will either be about racial profiling or about love and relationships. The subject is then lead into a room with three chairs. The researcher tells the

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074866721076923982004-01-23T08:47:00.000-05:002004-01-23T09:19:10.436-05:00

The first song on Nelly Furtado's new album is called "One-Trick Pony." There's a Paul Simon song by that name. For a moment I thought Furtado was the same person as Edie Brickell, but she's not and so there's one conection that's not really there. The songs are not the same. In 1991, I saw Simon play in Central Park. I was supposed to be at school, classes being just about to start, but I was on

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074837556178577012004-01-23T00:52:00.000-05:002004-01-23T01:46:12.920-05:00

I met Lin at the Kimmel center for a talk by Claude Steele on identity and how it relates specifically to underperformance in testing situations. We had to sign in with a guard before being allowed into the building. I signed in with Lin, but then decided to wait in the lobby in front of the guard with Jean for Steve. Five minutes later, Steve arrived and I walked through the security gate. The

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074794637616174232004-01-22T12:43:00.000-05:002004-01-22T13:11:09.576-05:00

Cel joked "monkeys bit my sister." Monkeys actually bit my friend. She was in Bali, visiting the temple at Uluwatu. She was photographing the monkeys and got too close. One jumped on her and started biting her head. Her friend wrote about it in an email missive, and I almost didn't believe it. They had rented a car to drive there from Ubud, though neither of them could drive standard very well,

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074752196165212762004-01-22T01:14:00.000-05:002004-01-22T01:20:52.093-05:00

It's the year of the monkey, 4701, the beginning of a new century. I don't think I know any monkeys off the top of my head, though I'm bad at remembering people's signs, much to Mimi's chagrin. Another friend of mine tells me that depending on the year and your sign, you can wear other animal charms to better your fortunes. I think this year she's wearing a tiger, but I can't recall her sign.

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074728753875596552004-01-21T18:41:00.000-05:002004-01-21T18:47:55.000-05:00

An ad in the subway for the NYC Teaching Fellows reads, "You remember the name of your first grade teacher. Who will remember yours?" I don't remember my first grade teacher, but I remember my fourth. She gave us pencils one year for Christmas. I knew they were pencils before I opened the gift. I could smell the wood through the wrapping paper. They were green with gold lettering, "Merry

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074716046288819272004-01-21T15:07:00.000-05:002004-01-21T15:29:47.640-05:00

Whenever I'm at a drugstore and decide to treat myself with a candy bar, I always get a Whatchamacallit, if they have it. I don't even much like them save that they're crunchy. The chocolate is subpar. But I still remember seeing the ads on tv when I was growing up in Idaho. Two older men drove Laurel-and-Hardy style through the bread basket of America in what I remember being a Model T. One asks

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074695466630231372004-01-21T09:27:00.000-05:002004-01-21T09:33:51.716-05:00

I've been having very vivid dreams recently. I wake in the middle of the night with the memory of them sharp in my mind. I go back to sleep and then wake up in the morning with the memory of the dream, but not its details. Before I went to Southeast Asia, my doctor prescribed larium, a prophylactic for marlaria. He told me one of the side effects were vivid dreams, or nightmares. He then told me

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074663976514584722004-01-21T00:41:00.000-05:002004-01-21T00:50:09.420-05:00

At Cher's insistence, I have read Embers, written by a Hungarian writer, Sándor Márai. Reading the book has nothing to do with my trip to Budapest. The second half of the novel is taken up with a soliloquy. I can see F. Murray Abraham onstage, playing the General. I'm not sure who to cast as his long-suffering guest. The most poignant passage occurs early on. The less fortunate friend of the

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074662856678181242004-01-21T00:20:00.000-05:002004-01-21T16:12:23.763-05:00

I ended up at a yakitori place for dinner on St. Marks. As we walked in, Cream's "Crossroads" assaulted us. I used to love Eric Clapton. Before I discovered Freddie King and Sonny Boy Williamson and Robert Johnson. In college, I was still listening to the classic rock I had favored in high school, and one of the first box sets I purchased was Clapton's Crossroads set. If my freshman roommate's

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074659525682786652004-01-20T23:20:00.000-05:002004-01-20T23:34:06.013-05:00

Walking to meet Kit and Eric in the west village I passed the takoyaki stand on 9th street. Two groups were huddled together outside around their plastic containers, one on the bench, the other a bit off to the side, fighting the cold. The first time I had takoyaki was in Tokyo. I had decided to spend my vacation in Japan, and tacked my two weeks onto the Thanksgiving break. I was in Harajuku,

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074638639825363692004-01-20T17:40:00.000-05:002004-01-20T17:48:59.340-05:00

I just had a package of Pretz, thanks to co-worker Dennis. They're sort of a sister snack to Pocky. As Mimmy is to Hello Kitty, so Pretz are to Pocky. Over the summer I was at the Korean deli on the corner of Thompson and Prince with Ed. As we were checking out I was compelled to buy a box of Pocky. Ed, who is Cantonese and went to Berkeley, had never had them before. I was surprised, and my

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074629574152378752004-01-20T14:46:00.000-05:002004-01-20T15:14:54.140-05:00

I should have known better. I should have guessed when I saw the empty car, the man by the door holding the sleeve of his sweater against his nose. The problem became palpable with the first step into the train. But the conductor cautioned against the closing doors, and the train was about to start. I followed a man as he opened the door between the cars, chased out by the stench. I never saw the

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074616905948315852004-01-20T11:32:00.000-05:002004-01-20T11:43:55.560-05:00

When I moved to New York I thought one of the more interesting relationships was between that of a diner and his or her usual haunt. I had formed my idea from books or tv, and was looking forward to those restaurants that I'd frequent, where, in the words of a theme song "everybody knows your name." It never happened. Recently, a number of smaller inexpensive restaurants have opened in my area,

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074611424484464432004-01-20T10:05:00.000-05:002004-01-20T10:12:24.216-05:00

In the past few years my tastes for sweets has fallen off. Last night at a Dominican restaurant, I could barely take more than three bites of the tres leches we ordered. I won't say no to Japanese cakes however, especially those from Panya (their strawberry shortcake rocks). Somehow, Asian cakes don't seem as sweet. I also can't seem to have muffins for breakfast anymore (save for English muffins

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074583127556897302004-01-20T02:09:00.000-05:002004-01-20T02:26:48.996-05:00

I have just returned from the Lenox Lounge, a small jazz club between 124th and 125th street on Malcolm X Boulevard. In the bar, one tv was tuned to a basketball game, the other to a documentary on Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. The volume on the game was tuned down, but Dr. King's voice rang through the sparsely populated room. In the back, Roy Campbell hosted his Monday night jam session. For five

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074552038323747552004-01-19T17:34:00.000-05:002004-01-19T19:06:24.780-05:00

The unfortunate thing about spending my entire day cooped up at home (cleaning, reading, doing laundry, waiting for a cousin to call) is the dearth of snacks I keep. I've been meaning to buy a box of Triscuits to nibble on. Simmy tells me that they're better for you than Wheat Thins, even though Wheat Thins are very tasty. I like Triscuits as well. However, I almost never buy snacks. I tend to

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074528010706634112004-01-19T10:54:00.000-05:002004-01-19T11:19:16.250-05:00

I met Sam yesterday at Hiroko's cafe. Among other things he told me that in the apartment he rents they have a washer and a drier in the unit. It's a loft-like space he shares with two other people on Canal and Broadway. I was floored. If there was one thing I would wish for in my apartment it would be a washer. I wouldn't even need a drier (though it would be welcome if it were looking to come

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074494436931529262004-01-19T01:33:00.000-05:002004-01-19T01:47:03.653-05:00

Li-T was asking me about jazz clubs. A friend of hers is in town from Japan for a conference, and she wanted advice on where to take her. When I first moved to New York, I scoured the Voice for listings of who was playing when and where. In the first six months after arriving, I saw Ron Carter, Branford Marsalis, Max Roach, Cecil Taylor, McCoy Tyner, Bobby Hutcherson . . . I was searching out all

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074488296323516272004-01-18T23:39:00.000-05:002004-01-19T00:06:28.936-05:00

While watching G.I. Jane over dinner, the one thing that struck me most (more so than the penultimate line, which was changed to "Suck my stick" for broadcast) was the Pretenders song playing over her training scenes. I'm sure I was familiar with the group growing up from classic rock radio. The usual songs, "Kid," "Brass in Pocket," etc. But I didn't take notice of them until I heard "My City

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074468516395010272004-01-18T18:23:00.000-05:002004-01-18T18:34:28.670-05:00

Simmy just asked to borrow some of my Run-D.M.C. They were probably the first rap group I really got into. I remember staying up past midnight Friday nights listening to WCNI, 91.1, Connecticut College's campus radio station. When I was in junior high they'd have a three hour show of rap and hip hop music. That was where I first heard Doug E. Fresh's "The Show," was introduced to Grandmaster

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074467303820995492004-01-18T18:06:00.000-05:002004-01-18T18:11:54.170-05:00

I ran into Celvyn yesterday at Starbucks. He was feeding his gingerbread latte need. He blasted me for not posting on my link blog since Thursday. I told him to check my photoblog. Then I realized that I don't have a space for random musings. They don't fit on my link blog, and they have no reason to be on my photoblog. Hence this. We'll see how long it lasts. It's a more private roomination.

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074465620135829512004-01-18T17:35:00.000-05:002004-01-18T17:45:36.810-05:00

Basketball players have been invading my dreams. This has nothing to do with NBA Live 96, which I had been playing on an SNES emulator. I've fallen off that game. Or maybe it has because I've fallen off playing the game. They are never the main focus of the dream; they are always on the outskirts. And I never know who they are; just that they are NBA basketball players. I don't really know who

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074452152099846352004-01-18T13:52:00.000-05:002004-01-18T13:58:04.153-05:00

It's snowing now, having turned from rain about an hour ago. I was looking at photoblogs and saw a photograph of a "Dodge" logo, wrapping around the fender of a car. My father used to drive a Dodge Dart. Growing up, I hated the way the car smelled, though as I grew older, I came to like the way it looked. Later, I thought it would be the first car I would drive. Six months before I got my license

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074446526153633662004-01-18T12:18:00.000-05:002004-01-18T12:48:44.280-05:00

Last night after saying goodbye to Kit—we had gone to Les Enfants Terrible, where the food was good but the service as tepid as the creme brulee—(part of me thinks we should have gone to SoHo billiards to continue our conversation about Elephant and Lost in Translation and the way in which things are presented or commented upon), I walked to Kim's underground. They were playing a New Order

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074443569642809792004-01-18T11:31:00.000-05:002004-01-18T11:34:46.403-05:00

Called s+d last night to see if they wanted to do dim sum this morning. I had dim sum yesterday, but I wasn't hungry enough and thus didn't get to eat as much as I might have liked. They said no. They were watching their waists. I asked where they were. They said 71 Irving, and I asked what they were having. "Chocolate cake."

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6232894.post-1074441347459652502004-01-18T10:54:00.000-05:002004-01-18T13:53:19.076-05:00

It's not such an exciting day today it seems. Just rolled out of bed. Have a coffee date at three. Not a date. Meeting a friend. Last night at 11.00 Charlotte called to see if I wanted to go to Chinatown for bubble tea. I had already been twice. For dim sum, and then for after-dinner dessert. I was warm in my apartment, lounging on the couch, and I said no. Maybe I should have said yes. I haven't

Shall we dansuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02112527392570477560noreply@blogger.com