Okay, I'll admit my attachment to the public library is slightly unhealthy, but it's a cruel joke to go thieving my long-awaited, reserved copy of Him, Her, Him Again: The End of Him off the reserve shelf. I have a system, my fellow New Yorkers, and I'd appreciate it if you'd not crap it up, especially the night before I hit "The Road" again. It's probably a good thing I'm going away, as there's likely to be a turf war down at the 'brary if I don't hightail it out of town.
I'm trying to pretend I'm prepared to go to Austin and Charlottesville but in fact I haven't packed yet. I do this. I dread packing for two climates, I like to think I'm becoming one of those "throw-three-things-in-a-carry-on-and-go" people, I leave it to the last minute, it's always a bad idea. In the meantime, I've been up to a few things.
I was in the Jill Anderson "Idolls" Show. Ten women played music, read stories, poems, etc. in celebration of Jill's 11th anniversary of her totally irresistible store in the East Village. I reviewed it for Citysearch eons ago. Here's Jill, from the back of the room.
I went to Melanie's house and played Wizard of Oz. I was Dorothy (naturally). Melanie was the Scarecrow in a long blonde wig. I think Bee was Glenda.
My wine club met at Heather's house and tasted South American reds. Heather made steak, which is somehow amazing to me. I have never made steak.
I watched Children of Men and fell into deep and everlasting love with Clive Owen.
My ceiling caved in in my bedroom and had to be fixed.
I did that Pilates DVD again and it wasn't quite as bad but it was not good.
Someone stabbed me in the back at the public library. Grrr.