February 4th, 2001.  Sunday
 

 
    My dreams were much more relevant than they usually are last night. Every dream in some way tested my relationaships, and values and thoughts I'd been denying.  These weren't dreams that needed to be interpreted at all.  It was all clubbed-over-the-head kind of stuff.  Like in one dream, my camera popped open and all the film was exposed and I lost all my pictures.  It was all stuff like that in the dreams, but some much more serious.  Confronting problems I hoped would never arise, or don't even like to admit or think about.  Anyway, it seemed sort of noteworthy some how.

    So, Jen from On My Turf, and DC geographically, came up for a visit this weekend.  I wasn't quite sure what to expect. We'd hung out before, but the prospect of hanging out the entire weekend made me a bit nervous.  One thing that's tough about writing this of course is knowing that she's reading it. Anyway, starting on Friday...
    I stayed at work, where I wasn't supposed to be, till about 6.  I went uptown and met Caryn and some of her friends from Entertainment Weekly at a bar called Victors.  Had a quick drink, met her friends, and went to Penn Station.  I forgot to pay for the drink, by the way.  Anyway, I got there just on time, but I couldn't figure it Penn Station for some reason.  The problem was that her train was late. Anyway, it all worked out when I spotted her bleack blond hair.  So we hopped on a train right as it pulled into the station. We were enthralled in conversation, and by the time I noticed we were on the uptown express train going the wrong way, we had gone 100 blocks to 132nd street.  That was sort of embarrassing.  Anyway, it took us an hour and a half to get home.  So I played the part of good host and almost immediately started playing Nintendo.  Jen got tired of watching pretty quick, so she started to make dinner.  I think she said several times "you know guys, it's Friday night."  Meaning of course that we should be out doing things instead of sitting in front of the tv playing nintendo.  Meanwhile, Jen was pouring lots of sugar in the linguine, thinking it was salt.  In fairness, she had asked if that big thing in the kitchen was salt, and without looking we all said yes.  Funny thing was, it was some of the best pasta I ever had.

    So fast forward to Great Lakes.  DC Jen and Jed and I sat around chatting.  I guess she had to see Great Lakes, since I talk about it so much, though we probably woulda gone there regardless.  A college friend of Jen's named Libby met us there.  So a standard night at Great Lakes.  Had lots of drinks and some shots and put a lot of money in the jukebox without hearing many of our songs.  I had a white russian, which started me talking about the Big Lebowski.  Libby had never seen it, so we thought it'd be a good idea to go watch it. So I called a car, the driver told us an offenseive joke, and we watched most of the movie before falling asleep.  I woke up around 5 am I guess and fetched futon coverings for Jen and Libby, and then directly to bed.

    Early next morn, picked up my laundry and a bagel on 7th ave., then Jen, Libby and I hopped on the subway and PATH train over to Libby's place in Hoboken.  Never been on the PATH train before.  It seemed like sort of a secret subway under New York. It was definitely cleaner and I almost felt like I was in another city altogether.  I wasn't sure if Jen had told Libby how we met, which was online, and the day before I'd actually thought about it and concocted a story where I was in the Smithsonian Air and Space museum, under the Spirit of St. Louis, and I was walking and staring up and walked into Jen and struck up a conversation about Charles Lindbergh and our other favorite trans-Atlantic flights.  But I forgot the story when Libby asked and made up some bullshit about meeting her at a bolwing alley.  Jen had told her before anyway though, so it was moot.  Anyway, Libby's pad was pretty fucking cool.  Her room was ginormous, with french doors, and a goodly amount of sunlight.  They also had an enclosed sort of deck that tickled my fancy.  So we hung out there for a while, met her roommate, tried on her boyfriend's furry vest and a mullet wig, moved in the biggest goddam bookshelf I've ever seen, and headed back to Manhattan.
    Continuing in exhaustive detail- Libby wanted to go to this flea market in Chelsea, so that's where we went.  It turned out that it was sponsored by the Communist Party of America. Everything was dirt cheap. Libby bought Jen a bright persimmon-colored jacket for three dollars. Those communists. they'll never make any money.  Lots of anti-George Bush proganda and buttons and fliers and papers and postcards.  It was a bit much. But I did see a pitcher there that was exactly the same as one my family had when i was a child. Many servings of grape juice I had from that pitcher. So I had a quick time-travel back to 1985, then back to the present.  Libby bought me some bizarre trinket of what appeared to be part of a boardgame or something.  It cost a dollar.
    So then food.  Headed over to the East Village, finally settling at a place called Yaffa.  Had a brie and ham sandwich, a few glasses of wine, and sat there for a few hours.  Jen and Libby talked about their college days and stealing and drinking and dumpster diving and boyfriends and crazy roommates and boyfriends.  And other things.  It was sort of interesting to take it all in.
    Sooooo... then we across 1st Ave to the Holiday Cocktail Lounge.  They're very no-nonsense around there.  When we got there the place was empty, and within 20 minutes it was packed.  Eventually, my brother geoff and his woman elizabeth showed up, then New York Jen then Jed.  Jed had kind of been drinking before coming out, and within half an hour of showing up he was acting like a maniac, slamming his fist and his glass against the table.  At one point, he absolutely had to go to Grand Central station to go to the oyster bar, and he went to grab me by my shirt collar and slammed his hand into my chest with more force than I've been hit in a long time. Except when DC Jen hit me in the stomach the night before.  Anyway, the place was too hot and smokey and all seven of us had to cram into a booth and keep stealing chairs and I wasn't feeling any effect of the alcohol no matter how much I drank.  Still, I had a good time.  Then home.  Jen had a few words to say about my apartment.  Those words were: "No, it's fine. but it just needs a woman's touch," "what you need is for all your mothers to come here and clean the place," "bringing my slippere here was the smartest thing I've ever done," and "your bathroom scares me."  Personally, I have to say the bathroom's cleaner than it usually is.

    Awoke around 11, and DC Jen and I went down to Sotto Voce, the Italian placeon 7th Ave., for brunch. It was the unlimited mamosas and bloody mary's that sealed the deal.  Jen pounded about 5 mamosas I think. I like that restaurant, but I've always disliked the people that work there.  I always feel like a godammed mirage.  Still, twas a good brunch with good food and lively conversation.  As was the weekend on the whole.  Just what I needed.  Interesting and fun and new people to hang out with.  Nothing really bad to say about it.  Jen was cool all weekend, as was Libby.  Libby, by the way, had one of the coolest things I've ever seen, which was a sweater with gloves sewn onto the ends of the sleaves.  I always wondered why that never caught on. they make pajamas with feet, why not shirts with gloves?  Anyway, I thought it was a gas.

    Jen was mentioning this morning how terribly long my entries are getting.  An unrelated random fact was that she took home about 30 pounds of bagels.  Apparently you can't get a decent bagel around DC.

    One point of contention all of yesterday was the meaning of the word "phlegmatic," right down to how it's pronounc. DC Jen was mentioning how terrible her vocab had been getting, and used that word to illustrate the point. No one we were out with seemed to know.  I can't remember what anyone said, but if you're curious, it means "1) hard to rouse to action. a) sluggish, dull, apathetic. b)calm, cool, stolid. 2) of, like, or producing the humor phlegm."  So there.  Also, last night I got the feeling that if both Jens lived in the same place, at some point in there lives of us all hanging out, they would eventually, one day, get into a fist fight.
    You know, I was just reading this, and for as much as i wrote there's an appalling lack of insight into what I actaully think of Jen as a person.  I wonder if that's deliberate.  Well, the first word that just came to my head is kooky.  that's a good thing.  Though I wonder how many people would be pleased if that topped the list of how people described them.

    Anyhow, I tried to get some work done in the city today after taking Jen to Penn Station, but it wasn't in the cards. Bought a new book and coffee and sat around all day pretty much. Nice weekend.  gonna be hell tomorrow though.  Lots of work.

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