he asked me "what are you going to miss the most one month from now?"
All I could think at the time was "you!" Which is true, but seriously I am going to miss impromptu nights like last night.

it's one of those mornings where everyone is late. I am actually a little concerned. but more happy than concerned.

I mean really. one person is here.

the insanely hyper overnight girl needs to drop it a couple notches in order for me to not start vomiting.

it's one of those mornings where I send emails like this:

James -
Nevermind the mess when you get home. Things got a little hairy last night. I'll be around to pick up the mess tomorrow.

tomorrow. saturdays are so delicious. how many times do we tell ourselves and others that we will be around to pick up the mess tomorrow.

and then never follow through. the filth just sitting there.
the slobber drying.
phonecall never made.
underwear changed.

Sofia blanc de blancs. it comes with the worlds coolest straw - expandable & flexible. I served it in frozen wine glasses.

Annie Hall was on mute. scenes we stopped to laugh & recite:
1. Beekman theatre
2. Universe expanding
3. Allison porchnick - me to guest in the kitchen "IT’S THE ALLISON PORCHNICK PART! GET IN HERE!"
4. score coke in LA
5. Paul Simon saying "jack & angelica"
6. Annie & spider.
7. annies dad & his drink.

usually guests make my table look like this

or this

last night my table looked like this.

to me, it looks more lived-in. more like people over the age of 27.
27. The age where you kind of question alcohol.
you've done it. you know what its gonna do.
you are okay with half the room sipping water,
and the other half not smoking.
you talk about commute patterns,
running patterns,
and bush patterns.
You've applied to random jobs & programs,
you're done slobbering on people.
you pass on young parties.
anyway. one night, it snows.
you call. they knock.