2 march 01
Last night was a McSweeney's event at the Housing Works Used Book Cafe, where I used to volunteer. I have never seen the place so ridiculously crowded. Dave Eggars and Jonathan Lethem both read, as did Lydia Davis and lastly Zadie Smith, who was fantastic. Also present were They Might Be Giants, who did that thing they do with guitar and accordian. A lovely time was had by all. I was reminded of why I don't write fiction (because I can't), had my books signed, and went out for Indian food.
But who really cares about what I did last night? I guess every so often a friend I don't get to talk to much will check in to see what, if anything, is up (hi Kerry!). Though really, Kerry, I could just write you a letter. Remember those? Maybe I should just start addressing these entries to people. Anyway, Kerry, when the hell are you coming to visit me? I seem to recall that you said sometime in February or March. I finally got a swatch in the mail for the dress color I need to get for Dave's wedding. It's a lavendar color which hopefully won't be too hard to find with all the new spring clothing around. I still can't believe I'm taking part in the ceremony. I haven't really asked N yet if he'll come with me, as I haven't actually received the invitation yet. Nothing much else is particularly new or exciting over here. No further word on my employment status though the powers that be are aware that I'd like to stay permanently and they're waiting to find out how many new hires they can make this year before they have a formal discussion with me about it. The other night I got a call a little after 1am from a friend who had recently become involved with a guy who has been her closest friend for a while now. Apparently he wants to go back to just being friends, and understandably she's upset. "Upset" is the wrong word to use here, but I'll use it anyway. He said (and she couldn't disagree) that it just wasn't working out. What she wants to know, is who on earth this sort of thing is supposed to work out with if not with someone who's your best friend (with all those qualities "best friend" implies)? Why, she asked, should she even want to try with anyone less? I think I said that thing people always say about how you never know when you're going to meet somebody that you'll connect with but I'm sure it sounded halfhearted because I knew that sentiment wouldn't help much. At least they talked about it and he didn't just stop having time for her, leaving her to wonder what the fuck was going on. I'm mad. Back when they started dating I vowed (to myself, of course) that if he broke her heart I would rip out his fucking larynx. But I guess you can't really blame him for how he feels and honestly I'm not ready to be arrested on assault or murder charges just yet. Anyway. Are you still reading The Dictionary of the Khazars? I'm dying to talk to you about it. I'm almost done with True History of the Kelly Gang (Peter Carey) which I definitely recommend. If you ever get your butt up to Brooklyn, I'll let you borrow it. There was something else I was going to tell you, but I've forgotten what it is.