Change of Plans

After a marathon session of watching old cartoons online last night (Slim called Gummi Bears "pussy." Whatever. He was only allowed 30 minutes of TV a week and he chose Strawberry Shorcake. And that was only 20 years ago. Even if he wasn't allowed to watch He-Man) we decided to maybe rethink our plan to dress as Burt and Linda Pugasch for Halloween and instead go as Shortcake and the Peculiar Purple Pie Man of Porcupine Peak.

Pitfalls: the SS costume is complex, esp. the hat. I have some concerns that it might be one of those cases where a ready-made costume would look better, but obviously that would also be crummy and kinda Fredericks of Hollywood. Also, somewhat inauthentic as I was not actually allowed to watch Strawberry Shortcake on grounds of commercialism, and only had brief clandestine encounters with it at friends' houses, esp. "Big Allie" Mitchell (as opposed to second cousin "Little Allie" Stein) and my neighbor Annie.

Slim also mentioned that, when consulted as a three-year-old about names for his youngest sister, he lobbied very hard for "Strawberry Shortcake." "It would have suited her, actually," he observed.


Want to find a way to work the wisdom of the Ancient Gummies in, but can't think of one.

strep

I have it. But post-doctor and some Sulfa drugs (or whatever) am getting better. Have makeup on my face, a turban on my head, and silk lounging pajamas on my hide.

Lord Tod Wadley

Slim sent me this:

http://www.wired.com/culture/lifestyle/multimedia/2007/10/gallery_tokyo_adult_expo?slide=22&slideView=2

matthew: did you see my email?
me: what, the ultimate erotic and cute weapon, Young Mr. Penis?
Yeah
matthew: yes the ultimate erotic and cute weapon, Young Mr. Penis.

Hm.

Have received approximately zero presents.

Facebook wall salutations no substitute for tangible tokens of esteem. (Slim is taking me to "Daughter of the Regiment" on Wed.)

Had good weather on the day. Brunch with the folks, back from the midwest, my mom with a badly sunburned lip. We talked - a LOT - about racial preferences.

Dinner, Slim took me to John's of 12th Street, at my request. I had: spaghetti and meatballs, garlic bread.

Had a bad feeling I might get proposed to, based on nothing. (This proved to all be in my mind.)

"You're really the best thing that ever happened to me," said he.

"You're, like, top ten, too," I said nervously. "I mean, below "Butter" but above other stuff."

I was sporting a mighty fine pompadour for the occasion, which occasioned no small admiration in Williamsburg.

We moved on to Veniero's for an espresso, and planned to finish our evening at the Holiday Cocktail Lounge, but were so depressed by the awkward first date convo of the couple at the next table ("I teach high school Phys Ed and Freshman Sex Ed"; "Actually, I'm living with my parents right now...I'm saving up to buy some property.") that we called it a night pretty early.

Many Happy Returns

As of an hour and a half ago, I was 27.

A year ago, I was sad and lonely and alone. I spent my birthday with my folks at the Museum of the City of New York seeing an exhibit on the Spanish Civil War. Then we had steak at the Old Homestead and I brought Mirah as my date. I was home by 8.

Now, I have my Slim and lots of wonderful friends and not much else to show for it. Still, I can't help but feel optimistic, somehow...if nothing else, Facebook does make one feel one's birthday. You don't like to admit it, but those birthday greetings on a wall feel nice.

Tomorrow I have brunch with the family, Slim, Charlie and Maeve at Balthazar. Slim has something planned for the rest of the day, I think.



GK4, former fiance, tells me the cats killed a bird. I have a bad feeling he isn't feeding them enough. Here's hoping his date went well tonight.

(Worst nightmares ever! Think they had to do with Fritzl (Austrian incest/dungeon cat who imprisoned his daughetr 24 yrs and fathered 7 kids) as was discussing this situation with my parents shortly pre-bed.)

"Well," said my mother vaguely. (They just have access to USA Today - they're in Missouri somewhere - and not following the story at all closely enough) "Well, at least it didn't happen to you."

"Thanks a lot!" said my dad.


My dad, by the way, has surpassed all other neocon canvassers and obtained over 500 signatures on his Prop209 petition. He says positioning himself by the dive-thru of a White Castle was a masterstroke. My mother, meanwhile, got into a very vocal fight with a "smug, Prairie Home Companion-listening old liberal."

Since you are interested in my every movement: yesterday went on a hike at Kykuit (Rockefeller estate), got a malted in Tarrytown (served by what appeared to be a nine year old) and then played a laughable game of pool at a nearby bar. Spoke to GK4, former fiance, while en route to the hike. He was, per usual, simultaneously disgruntled and knowing about what we were doing (in this case, the hike.) Also seems convinced that I am having some kind of secret birthday party to which he's not invited, despite repeated assurances to the contrary.

"Let me put it this way," he said. "If I happen to stop by your house on Saturday night, will you be there with two hundred of your closest friends?"