Not in a writing mood. I guess because the Jets choked in their home opener which means my husband is sour. Effing Jets.
I thought my weekend would be devoid of anything social and therefore I could do my two favorite things: sleep and watch tv. I was wrong. Three days and a movie, outdoor drinking, dinner with friends, more drinking and lots of walking a dog later, I need a weekend from my weekend. London was beautiful these past two days. In that beguiling way where she taunts you and makes you forget her often overcast and ornery side. Harlot.
I dog-sat for a shiba inu named Kealy. I had forgotten the utter delight of owning a dog. The way they chew the ends of your blinds, bark at the hairdryer, hump your leg, get people to stop you in the street and chat you up and snuggle you in bed. And hump your leg.
Bryan was with our friend Jud in Amsterdam, doing what they enjoy most: taking asinine pictures of themselves.
The coup of the weekend though – hands down- was that Sunday morning I was introduced to the guy my friend Kara is dating, and by Sunday afternoon he was painting a wall for me in my flat. His labors were for a pittance really- a steak and some Old Speckled Hen. Based on his work, Stuart also asked me if I wanted a stuffed buffalo head to mount on the wall. I muttered something about beams and studs and security deposits. Dodged that bullet, ya know.
And here’s my PS: Go online to the Wall Street Journal. You will be sufficiently depressed. Our good friend has been at Lehman for a long time and I woke up to the news with a pit in my stomach. But then I checked my email and saw that our good friends Sonya & Peter got engaged this weekend. And so thanks life for keeping me in check. As you do.