a yesterday of throbbing gristle. featuring...spock's son! first i spent the morning doing paper errands. boo! hiss! then, compelled by hunger & camaraderie, i tread on secret paths (revealed on the map by starlight, three may walk abreast) over to tracey & sam's, wherein i did eat a quiche & that quiche indeed had mushrooms, verily. sam & i talked about outer space & then tracey did this self-doubting thing! oppose. after then, i tra-la-la'ed home, & what to my wondering eyes should appear but jenny home early. i left her to sort out her things & hit the gym; it is strange how hard it is to resume the proper rhythms of attendance after the busy season at work. stupid! then, to dinner! we had a double-date with nine & kira & kira's boobs. seriously, they were all out there! it was practically all we talked about. lovely & i were considering this restaurant tripoli as a place to get married, so we ate there & tried it out. i have only nice things to say about it, & the wait staff was really good at being present/invisible, but we are leaning toward the montauk club, though i daresay that the picture of tripoli's outdoor area, which i didn't see, is a good argument for it. the montauk club, as i understand it, would sort of be like being a royal tenenbaum. also: we'd be members of a private club. & how fucking radical would that be, dudes? so we'll see. so having stuffed outself on, without exaggerating, twenty something dishes off the tasting menu, we tried out some of the bars within walking distance, with thoughts of an after party. the first place we went is...floyd? i think it is what it is called. it is by the same folks who own union hall-- in fact, it was the bar that started it all. now, listen. having a bocce court inside, yes, that is cool. & the decor is nice. here is the thing though: your bars are filled with total fuckers. d-bags most foul! what can you do. the curse of a popular bar. so we turned around & left. the next bar, i didn't get the name, was much better in clientèle & mood, but with no where to sit, & the music loud, we left again. we ending up at...pete's ale house, just some little local old folks joint. much better. free pop corn. then vroom vroom home, & we had the same driver we'd gotten on the way in!