there is a kind of magic at the marrow of things, something hidden but vital, pumping out special blood-withing-the-blood. i hate it, want to break the world & suck it out. yesterday at work astrad stopped by, since she's taken up shop at brooklyn college doing some mysterious task. with her help, & a little help from peter for danny, i won at scrabble, despite a terrible first couple rounds. alicia was off to discover a jewel, an heirloom, & i headed home. en route i was lured in manhattan by lonely, husbandless slowertwin, tempted by promises of sushi. sending off a juggler's handful of voice mail messages to pravda, i began to labour under the misaprehension that she was still at work. i got to ekat's still thinking this was the case. as it turned out, it wasn't- jenny's phone was on vibrate all along & didn't even know i'd been calling. not the best of situations; reminded me of when jenny has a dream in which i act mean & she wakes up still made at me. i try to convince her to come into the city, but she's been under the weather. it is a damn shame. eventually katja & i rent shaolin soccer, which is of course a big hit. we drink some wine (but not that much), & then she breaks out her video camera. she shows me the pornographic paintings done by some old fellow, i tell her about captain marvel, then we play siskel & ebert. very enjoyable. then it is time for bed & home.