my horoscope said that today was my kind of day (and even added an exclamation point [!] for emphasis.) maybe it’s my rather suspicious nature, but i always get put off by that. in this case, rightly so. when i woke up, i felt distinctly non-social: despite intentions to round everyone up early to get an expedition together to go to adam’s morgan for lunch, i ate brunch at home, stayed in my pajamas, and meandered down to my living room to watch lola rennt. (dubbed, too, those bastards … )
then people showed up. it took us a while but we finally got our shit together and met jay at his place (where we chatted w/ his mom, who was our lower skool guidance counselor and of whom we all have fond memories.) then we walked. six trodden miles, one margarita, three salads, one chimichanga, 54,321 conversations about food and/or fitness, four recounted dreams, and (for my part) the same two bars of music hummed 67 times, we returned to jay’s, bid him farewell, and becca liz ilana and i made it wearily back to my house.
i think everyone’s estrogen level was completely out of whack. it must have been. once jamie and tamar appeared, we sat around my kitchen table like a group of goddamned matrons w/ mugs of tea and bowls of raisins and grapes and discussed moon cycles. no, actually, that part was fun. i don’t know why i didn’t enjoy what preceded it as fully. in any event, we watched fabulous lock, stock, and two smoking barrels. i adore movies that know that they’re movies — which is to say, the work of filmmakers who know that they have a unique medium and under no circumstances have to confine themselves to the simple or even the realistic.
i’m beginning to feel shitty again for being the only one who doesn’t run. bah.
poetry tomorrow. hopefully moodiness will have passed.