Red, red wine on Friday night with tiny, mighty K. I should call her Little Big Mouth, or Little Big K. She is, she pointed out at dinner yesterday, a tiny woman with a big mouth and big personality. I enjoy the juxtoposition.
A mug for Dorothy and a Halloween present for Fang. Dorothy asked specifically for a mug, so she knows what she's getting, just not what it will look like. Hope it comes out OK, I did something I never do -- I drew, albeit primatively.
K. tried to paint a cat for her mother, again. We had 2 free hours of birthday time each, which was great, we could take our time and work out details. Unfortunately, K. kept getting frustrated and starting over. She never did finish painting the cat. I told her next time to paint for herself or a friend and she'll enjoy it much more, worry less about perceived imperfections.
Then I found myself alone
Hoping someone would miss me
Thinking about my home
And the last woman to kiss me
But sometimes ya have to moan
Or nothing seems to suit ya
Nevertheless you know
You're locked toward the future
So on and on you go
The seconds tick the time out
There's so much left to know
and I'm on the road to find out
"On the Road to Find Out"
Half of the way home from Rob's. He's in the mid-50s. I walked crosstown a block (1/4 mile), downtown the final 20 blocks (1 mile) and cross town another block (1/4 mile). I need to do that more often...it's interesting and makes me feel good. I just tend to carry too much crap with me.
I should walk home this month, as it's only 3 crosstown and 27 downtown blocks. It would take less than an hour, it's just a matter of not carrying too much crap with me. Also, having spent the first 27 years of my life in California, I still tend to forget that winter is coming and to make hay while the sun shines.
Fall, so very much.
Harold & Maude and Grease (what, Hair was checked out?). With all the musicals taking up residence deep in my heart, it's little wonder I keep falling for gayish men.
My mother, worried about me walking the streets of Manhattan at 11:30 last night, but never about my father beating and choking the life out of me. Alanis, that is ironic.
experiencing all of these visual memories of various people. That's unusual for me, as I tend to have very strong verbal memories. I can quote conversations verbatim years later (at least the ones that strike me as significant, some conversations I don't remember at all).
Rafe's stomach, I don't know why. He's Indian and has this beautiful, medium clove brown skin. It was so smooth and I liked the contrast of his shiny jet black hair against it.
Fang's hands, so exquisite and always a major part of her storytelling. They have a vocabulary all their own.
Nerd Boy's hands and fingers -- graceful, yet persnickety; that's how he is all over. His entire body -- long, graceful, feline.. . .
Perhaps it's because I've been taking so many photographs.. . .
I was surprised at the way the features listed for the Mini overlapped the S'Mint and Evian billboards. I don't know if they're owned by the same MNC or what the arrangement is.
This one's for my friend Trace, who couldn't get over how there was a Duane Reade on every corner.
The Empire State Building was orange one day last week, I don't think I've ever seen it that color before.
. . .
Firefighters on the right, rear flank of the fire/art dogs.
I didn't notice that the Empire State Building was on the side of the fire/art dog. Note that it's red, white and blue, as was the ESB for most of the last year.
Cranes for firefighters. There was another bunch on the other side of the firehouse.
[Next entry: "Handling It"]
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