Hi, I'm a dummy that broke my Movable Type when I called myself updating! I'll figure out sooner or later how to get the comments back... I fixed it! I'm the shit! Too bad I spend more time fucking around with my site instead of actual things I have to do.
*sigh*
That's pretty much how it went this weekend. All ridiculous and comedy of errorsish.
Proving that mentioning his name is like tempting fate, Farmer popped back into town and wants to catch up. My first reaction was to go all dramatic and refuse the offer. The hazards of chatting when I'm imbibing a homemade (read: like paint thinner) concoction. Hilarity was when he said "oh yeah, Farmer's out, right?" and I responded "been reading up, have you?" Back in the day when we first met and the blog was a baby, he was amused by me forever quoting him but generally it wasn't on his radar. I'm not really surprised he was checking in while we were on the outs -- in fact, I suspected as much. (The tracker is a most useful tool!) People I've had conflict with reading the blog and keeping tabs: shocker! If only everyone was so helpful. He is actually. Net addicted writer sorts obsessively writing on the web, net addicted photographers obsessively posting pictures up pictures on the web. Imagine that. And I'm not immune to checking up on others either. Shady's site is good for a nice eyeroll or 10. God bless the internet! Anyhoo, the next day with my hangover, I rethought my position and we might meet up. And my friends have all sent me cyber slaps on the head, but yeah well. Mistakes are good as long they're fun and painless. Now I just have to endure him wanting to rehash old posts and shit. Holy hell.
The party Saturday night where I got my hangover was this random thing I went to with Alex and his brother in Williamsburg somewhere. A girl moving into his brother's building was throwing a party in her empty old apartment. Did you know the new thing with the kids is to get drunk and start tossing beer bottles onto the floor? Yeah. I dunno. We ran into this Wes girl who moved into my senior house, affectionately called The Cake House For Midgets, the year after and now lives around the corner from me. We got into a convo about which corner store we had allegiance to and she declared: "I can't stand going to that one at the corner of St. Johns. I mean, if you can't afford all the letters on your sign, you don't deserve my business!" I was totally dumbstruck. Why I tend to avoid random Wes people personified. Let's hope no one lets her know about Daily Heights happy hours!
The cat was nowhere to be found all day Sunday and we were frantically looking everywhere. I had the same stupid exchange with Ant too many times.
Candice: Where the hell can she be? There's not that many places to hide.
Ant: I dunno. You sure you looked everywhere?
Candice: Yes I did. *beat* Are you sure you guys didn't do something to her? It's okay. You can tell me.
Ant: No, we didn't. Maybe she ran away?
Candice: She's too scaredy to run away...she runs and hides if I move too quick! *beat* Are you sure J didn't kill her?
Ant: He's a gay pacificist!
Candice: Hmm. Well. I hope she turns up.
My mom visited and looked too, but no dice. A quiet mew around 9pm helped Ant and I find her in the fucking dresser drawer. My cat is a clown. She learned from the best.
Posted by Candicissima at May 2, 2005 10:29 PM"I can't stand going to that one at the corner of St. Johns. I mean, if you can't afford all the letters on your sign, you don't deserve my business!"
i'm sure she thought that was extraordinarily witty too. And i'm a little disappointed at her very un-wes comment. if anything she should be trying to throw money at them.
Posted by: jay at May 3, 2005 08:52 PM