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2001-12-03 || 6:40 p.m. || all star lady convention! || i have been trying to write about the weekend all day. my head feels all cluttery with things and i can't come up with a dainty way of organizing them so i am just going to dump them on the table for examining. cast aside the crumpled tissues and broken pencils and driving and tying shoes for all the important things: pints of caffrey's with fair molly at the edinburgh castle. spying on cute boys from upstairs and entertaining pre-show jason slumped on a couch. joe and matt and sarah, talking about poor george h and holiday plans and gossip. rain and rain and rain. feeling very giddy from the aforementioned caffrey's while seated on coats in the front row of molly's new favorite basement-upstairs as the marvelous (marvelous!) cave-ins played. laughing very hard with matt and snapping surreptitious pictures of emo maraca players. ('but jason, you were playing the maracas. j: 'i know, but i take music seriously.' me: 'you bring maracas to a new level of emo.'). kat showing up at 12:30 on saturday, rained on and lovely, with molly and me still in pajamas and bedhead. the fruitless search for brunchy places open after three o'clock. having more quality girl time than i have had in years i think: talkin about boys and lovin and making lists on paper of boy requirements (kat:'is not allergic to everything.' molly:'is okay with my friendboys.' me:'owns roller skates.' all agreeing on the importance of relative tidiness and willingness to take dance lessons). coffee and coffee and coffee. then the nanowrimo party: the three of us making up the holy triumverate of glamorous ladies. getting drunk on beer and champagne and red bull. very odd random men/boys. molly gettin digits. the polaroid of the three of us looking mighty hot if you don't mind my sayin, all of us smiling and ignoring the man off camera who referred to us as 'the witches of eastwick.' hmm? (wishing i had operational scanner at the ready to prove my polaroid point.) jason huddled under an umbrella with me sharing cigarettes ('michael would be mad.') wanting to talk about god ('but jason, we're at a party and i'm holding a beer. i'm not going to talk about god right now.' j:'but your capable of it, you just don't want to.'). slightly wincing whenever chris talked to another lady. meeting fabulous brian m who lives two blocks away and will be my neighborhood bar friend, hooray. then running in rain and falling in puddles and holding the high heels while trying to find the car. talking about emo maraca players and amos the hottiest boy on norfolk street on the way home. waking up very late again to have more exclusive lady adventures and coffee drinking and getting to see berkeley/oakland through new york/l.a. eyes, which was very nice. looking up the word 'twee' in the dictionary with m. winding down and kat leaving in her flash gordon car and dropping molly off in san francisco. meow meow is sad about the distinct drop in love/affection/attention since you two left (evil meow has returned.). the apartment is quiet and lonely. the couch and length of blue carpet look very empty and a little bit haunted. the girl downstairs is naked again and there's no one to point it out to. the makeshift primping area is still set up in the kitchen. boo. sad. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |