A friend told me a story once, about a girl he worked with but didn't like. She had given notice, and on her last shift she casually leaned over and whispered to him: I hope I never see you again.

Someday I might see you around, and I might sidle up to whisper: You were never my friend.

oh new york

I love the way that sometimes

you remind me

gently

you could still snap me in two

at any moment.

oh.

I fall in love all over again.

No one belongs here more that you

I clearly have a lot on my mind today!

My recent bad habits mean that I've now lost enough weight that all of
my clothes just slightly don't fit; not enough to justify buying new
ones, but more than enough to be annoying.

I'm exploring TriBeCa on what feels like the most still and quiet
Saturday evening that has ever happened. Maybe it's just the
neighborhood?
I walk past a diner and a busboy smiles and waves at me through the
glass, like I'm his friend, and I smile and wave back because that's
exactly the kind of random shit I love to do.

Espresso and Miranda July at a nice cafe on Greenwich, then back out
into a night that will most surely involve dancing.

Taking heartache with hard work

The only good thing about having to go to work so early in the cold is
that there are cheese grits and espresso waiting for me when I get
there.

Last night was Beaujolais at hicks st, followed by Guiness at abilene.
It was good to see A and swap stories of homesickness. He delivered a
fabulous birthday present all the way from Austin, which I love and
can't wait to hang up at home.

Tonight I have vague plans with andrea, k and pnb, who are quite
unexpectedly becoming much-loved friends.

I've been thinking a lot about that concept lately: how when you meet
someone, you never know what they are going to end up meaning to you.
You could casually be introduced to someone at a show only to have
that person later become your best friend.

It's fascinating, and lovely, to later find out what the important
days are.