Spent it doing Super-Secret Girl Things. You know, the burnishing, buffing, shining, plucking, shaving, pumicing, trimming, dyeing, and general upkeep things.
Then had brunch with Jim on Sunday. Went to his house, drank a glass of wine, smoked a joint, then went to Blue Mill, where the service is spotty, the food is so-so, but I do love it anyway. It is such a neighborhood joint, fabulous in its unfabulousness, populated by the denizens of the West Village. There was a table of Tri-Delt-y kind of chicks behind us, but thanks to my buzz their sororital chatter didn't bother me at all.
Afterward, wandered to Union Square, loving the play of light on the buildings, taking my sweet time and sauntering there with what I'm sure was a beatific stoned smile on my face. I love walking my city.
Wandered around Barnes & Noble. B & N stoned, cool. Went to Petco. Stoned, not cool.
Sat on the steps at the foot of Union Square looking south down Broadway, smoking a cigarette before jumping on the subway. Looked at the floor after floor of merchandise in that big building with DSW and Filene's Basement and thought,
"There isn't one thing I want there."
Had an overwhelming sense of deja vu as I remembered that January and February of 2001, when I moved through the city with a sense of sweet farewell. When everything I visited, every place I saw, felt like goodbye. I had that same feeling of starting to say goodbye to New York again, and wondered where it came from. Well, of course, it is coming from my incredible homesickness for Colorado. (How you can be homesick for a place that was home for only a year remains a mystery, but there you have it. Sometimes I get homesick for New Orleans, too, and I never even lived there. I think you can find places the same way you find people -- you go there, and something about it says, "home.")
Finished off the Secret Girl Things today with the first bikini wax of the season at lunchtime.
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