Sunday, June 05, 2005

I am writing this at the computer Where The Magic Happens at chez finslippy. Yes, foolishly, she and her husband have entrusted me with their first-born male child for the evening, while they make like grownups and eat at a fancy dinner place (and they wore big-girl and big-boy clothes, yes they did!). I just put the sweetie-pie to bed, and though I had been warned that there is sometimes a post-dinner, pre-sleeping poop, there was instead just some stinky farting. What a relief! He is adorable, though. We read some books. Like some toddlers know all of the dinosaurs, this one knows all of the vehicles and characters of Star Wars (original trilogy only, of course). He is very easy to put to bed too. Recommended!
I feel strangely nauseous, perhaps from the heat, or perhaps the chicken salad at the gourmet Union Market has poisoned me. I also saw a dead pigeon on the way over here, and if I could see it, then that means the West Nile Virus could have reached me. At least I think that's how it works. I hope I do not have to vomit in the finslippy bathroom.
Yesterday in the Spring Street subway station a Chinese guy was playing an erhu (I had to look that up - it's a stringed instrument played with a bow), accompanyed by a backing tape of what seemed to be "Songs for Playing Erhu By". While I was waiting there he played "My Way." It was such a classic NY moment that it felt manufactured. I had to look around to see if Nora Ephron was in the crowd with a movie camera.
Last night I went to a bar in the East Village. Around 1:20 I decided to walk home (I hadn't gotten to take a disco nap, so I had to end it early) and the further I walked north, the more and more frat-boy types I encountered. Actually, it was sort of a strata of, first, young alternative kids (passing through the St. Marks Place area), then Guido-types (like frat-boys, but with gelled hair and better shirts), then finally to ex-frat-boy yuppies. All with their matching girls, of course. In the guido strata I passed a guy peeing on the side of the building. I almost yelled at him, and should have. People live right there, you know? It's not like peeing behind the dumpster on Pearl Street; it's more like peeing on the side of someone's house, a couple of feet from the front door. Jerk.
Also, as I walked up, a black guy around my age stopped me. "Excuse me, can you do me a quick favor? Can you call me a cab? They aren't stopping for me." Aw SHIT, that is fucked up. I said "That's horrible. Hold on." I stuck out my arm, and 10 seconds later, a cab pulled over, with someone in it already - not sure why, did he think I needed help because there was a black man standing next to me? As the guy leaned in to ask the cabbie to send a car for him, another cab - an empty one - pulled up to my wave, and I yelled "Dude!" and pointed the guy to it, and I walked away. I can't imagine this was some sort of scam (I can't figure out how that would work) so I'm going to take it all at face value. I guess cabbies pick and choose who to pick up when there are multiple fares hailing them. That is fucked.
I am coming back up to town on Thursday to attend my ex-step-child's graduation. She ain't a child nomores. It is very exciting. She decided to go to one of the colleges I toured with her. And she's going to live and work in Cape Cod for the summer. I am proud to know her.


Anonymous said...

I am glad you did not vomit in my bathroom, for both of our sakes.

Henry talked about you all morning. He said, "Debbie is my new mommy, right?" Okay, no, he didn't say that. But he does love you.


debl said...

I am also glad I refrained from vomiting. And I also love Henry. I commented on your blog to that general effect. yay!

karla said...

Damn those public urinators. They should be shot with a watergun full of urine.