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Nina's angelic roommate and good friend saved my hung-over life at around 1:45pm. She called and invited me to lunch with a group of girls, a local cafe. Hmm. I'd been dry-heaving (sexy) for the last few hours. Perhaps I should try to get out and about? I said yes. I got to the restaurant, ran inside, and scared a little old lady. See, no one is to know that I'm nauseous. I stared at her intensely with my mouth closed tightly until she finally left the little restroom. Sigh. But I found my ultimate cure. Slowly sipped matzah ball soup. Deep breathing. And an audience to appreciate your delirious, slap-happy, all-over fucked-up state. The girls had a field day with me (I think), and I enjoyed their presence (and salvation) immensely. I felt so great when I finally left there, so opposite the way I felt when I got there that I was energetically euphoric. Simply giddy with feeling GOOD again.
Saturday night was lovely. Blove, Bunny, and Barbarella, Ah, those lovely B's. Fancy French restaurant and a play, the Universal Monster Show. The show was intense, emotional. Are you familiar with the story? 1944, a circus tent was water-proofed with parafin and kerosene and burned down, creating hysteria, killing 168 people (at least), causing mysteries and scandals and a search for the true cause that still continues today. It was done well, I thought. But there was a point, over half-way through, two of the characters came on stage in fireman uniforms. I tried to keep my sobs quiet so as not to distract the small crowd watching the show. I couldn't look at them. I wasn't reacting to that part in the play, the things they were saying about saving the crowd in 1944. I was in September. I was seeing my cousins, hearing THEM say the same things that these actors were saying. Minus Jeffrey.
You know, I saw Jeffrey on TV last night, that 9/11 show that aired? After a day in Old Town with Pixie and her family (simply wonderful) and a bar-b-que at a friend's house (simply delicious and fun), I made it home to catch the end of 9/11. And they showed a picture of Jeffrey at the end. And you know what I thought? Gee, he hated that picture. Figures they would pick the one he's not smiling in. Hope Jane doesn't see this, she'll be pissed. But it doesn't matter, I have his Engine 10 smiling picture up in my place. And smiling, making a crack about his silly facial expressions and hysterical grins with only an empty apartment, my cats, and Jeffrey to hear me, I went to bed.