Speaking of Swamp-Thing, yesterday was James' birthday party. The corridor of birthdays-- mine on Saturday. The party, anyhow. I'm absolutely, 100% blowing of Katie's tonight. No doubt. I had some wine (a little bit*!) before leaving to meet at the bar, thinking that a little pre-game imbibing might work to my advantage. It didn't! Or did, if you were trying to get me absolutely wrecked. I was! Boy gee golly, I never go out, & without a minder, welll-- I can't be responsible for my actions! I guess the bartender thought I meant for James to do the bodyshot off her? I would never be so crass; I meant for him to do it off his lady! Notably, there was a lot of cat's cradle, & Tracey wore her proper teeth, & I found Maggie's phone, & was right in assuming that James would get minis. I ran into a girl I used to flirt with at Kit Marlowe & Co. & flirted with her some. I don't think I actually fell down at any point, but I almost certainly staggered! Or well, failed to walk straight. Don't let me drive, occifer! That sort of thing. I am such a drink vulture when drunk; I am. You know it to be true! Search your feelings! Before all this though, a nice lunch with Simon. He winked at me!
Another fascination on the train today: this time with a mystery! Language man, it will sure screw up your brain, & I mean it will screw it up hard. At first I thought the accent was British but then I realized it was another language entirely, like Hopelandic or something. There was a clutch of them; a guy in jeans & two women, one in a pantsuit & the other in a skirt (no stockings). The latter woman was memorizing a speech, & was younger than the other two, & wore literal moccosins. Beads, everything. Amazing, & wearing a swoop haircut, an admirable bob. What are you up to, strangers. Got out at 8th Street-- perhaps associated with NYU? I should convert this into something, this lingering train obsession. Digest it. Make the good bits part of me.
*Not actually a little bit.