Friday, September 10, 2004

I bought two things today. A thick, tight Calvin Klein bomber jacket with a large, face-framing white fur collar and a pair of pin-striped Perry Ellis slacks. It's the slacks I'm concerned about.

I need to break them in appropriately. I can't just wear them to a consulting information session or a department social hour. I need to wear them to a night on the town. Not even a club. I can't submit my pants to a night of spilled beer and semi-dancing/semi-grinding/semi-sex in an overcrowded hot-spot. I'm thinking: a refined night on the town. The kind where you come back to your apartment, take off your clothes and still smell like the cologne you put on when you initially left. So...

Begin with dinner in the Warehouse District. Go to de cero on Randolph St. and order an avocado appetizer, chile rellenos for the entree and a sugared margarita. Stay at the restaurant till closing (10 PM) and walk in the cold to The District lounge/bar. Order a cosmo and stay until 2AM. At 2AM, bundle up in my salvation army winter-trench, a light grey sweater and a wool scarf and head to the Washington stop on the blue line. Get on the train. Huddle at the #55 bus stop until the van service comes to pick you up. Then go home. Make some warm milk. Check out style.com and the Issey Miyake website. Read a little bit of "Tender is the Night" and go to sleep.

CD's I got from the Libary:
1) Fleetwood Mac, "The Dance"
2) Sarah Brightman, "Time to Say Goodbye"
3) David Gray, "White Ladder"
4) REM, "Out of Time"
5) The Police, "Outlandos D'Amour"

Cried at the end of Dancer in the Dark. Bjork fucking dies.

Saturday, September 04, 2004

I just got access to the van this week and I've been doing a lot of driving:

First stop, Hudson Library to get "A Mighty Wind" and "The Graduate" to watch late at night. Made a stop at Yankee Pedlar to fix the bent wheel on my bike. Little Portuguese kid kept stroking my tire and telling his friend how huge my bike was. Grabbed my receipt and drove straight through Del Porto Boulevard and into Sudbury. Drove into Lincoln past the regional high school and up to Water Row (Water Row is a long drive that no one ever uses because it floods when the water table rises and looks just like the gloomy naked-tree forests that illustrator's favor for the cover pages of Washington Irving novels). Took Water Row up to the Wayland town line (water table rose and flooded the lower valleys near Rt. 27). Travelled down Candy Hill Road, past the Sudubry mansions, and onto the Rt. 27 connector. No one was around. All the school buses were in the high school parking lot. Some shirtless man was playing tennis on the school courts and sprayed sweat every time he took a swing. I drove past the Sudbury/Stow/Hudson drinking supply plant and resevoir, past the Firefighting Academy, curved along the edge of Lake Boone on Hudson Street and drove through Ferjulian's farm. I turned up the volume on my stereo and blasted St. Etienne as I waited for the light to turn green. The Hispanics next to me snickered. There were two men in a Honda, a short and stubby mustachioed man bathed in sweat and his leaner counterpart drumming his fingers on his knee in the passenger seat. Some type of salsa/pop fusion on the tape deck. And the sun was glaring off the shiny cualking the town uses to fill gaps in the asphalt. I wished I hadn't lost my Gucci sunglasses in South Africa. I turned left onto Forest Avenue and slowed down near my old elementary school- as much out of respect as to wonder if there were kids doing their word problems inside the building. And I was too close to home, so I swerved onto Marlborough Street and rode up the hill to the large manufacturing plant with the panoramic view of Hudson. To the left were large new-construction homes in posh West Hudson and immediately in front of me were tire marks left by the police vehicles that were investigating an accidental death. Last week, a man was digging a hole to alter his drainage pipes. As the sun dwindled, he couldn't see clearly and he slipped into the forty foot hole he had been digging for the past two days. The police and emergency workers tried to pry him out but their efforts only clogged the hole with soil and suffocated the man. The van lurched as I cruised along Resevoir Street into Marlborough. The road through Southborough and Framingham was hot and littered with auto-body repair shops. I concentrated on driving fast past the automotive filth. I chose not to drive on Rt. 30 since St. Mark's was already in session and all the students are achingly beautiful. Instead, I opted for Edgell Road and navigated cautiously through Downtown Framingham. I heard the whistle of the commuter rail train. I heard every language but English. Funny that, farther north was one of the wealthiest areas in Massachusetts (north Framingham) and downtown, all the faces were gritty with dirt and sweat and Spanish language. I bounced in my seat as I skimmed the railroad tracks. I ignored the "caution" signs near the Registry of Motor Vehicles and turned into the Salvation Army parking lot in Natick. I bought three green-glass gauntlets for candles at 49 cents each, five books (F. Scott Fitgerald, John Irving, Philip Roth and Da Vinci Code at 35 cents each). I was going to buy a jacket but its smell made me want to wretch. I made the purchases. The cashier was obese and kept telling the woman on her left how hard it was to work two jobs. The other cashier was trying on used shoes. Beige mules with worn heels. I fled the store. My allergies were kicking up due to the mustiness. I opened the windows and waited for the rush hour train to pass and drove at 45 mph back to Hudson. I had a glass of wine and some tortellini with Puja. I popped in Season Six of Sex and the City and read the rest of Swimming-Pool Library. I went to sleep. I'm waiting for Washington DC.

Monday, August 30, 2004

Baher and his cohorts came by this morning to pick up the furniture I put on sale on Craigslist. They kept speaking in Arabic while shaking the drawers and kicking at the wood to see how sturdy it was. And I hated foreigners at that moment. And the way Baher's wife had little braids bleached a light brown and woven throughout her coiffe. And the grandmother who kept telling the children to bounce on the bed. Baher's little girl who had those sneakers that flash red and blue every time you take a step. I hated the fact that Baher told me the furniture was for his fellow church-goers and Baher's wife said it was for Baher's mother. I helped them move all the furniture to their van and ran upstairs to my room and threw myself into bed when I was done. I looked out the window- they remained idle in the driveway for 30 minutes and then left. I spent the remainder of the afternoon reading the Boston Sunday Globe and The Swimming-Pool Library in bed (I didn't get out of bed until much later- Dad's flight from Amsterdam was delayed by 2 hours). Dinner was fast and the house remained quiet. Everyone was tired. Dad from the transatlantic flight. Puja from her weekend at Cape Cod. My mom from working around the house. And I was tired because it was Sunday and reading takes a lot of energy on hot days.

Mixed CD for the road (Labor Day Weekend: Washington DC with Tarak):

Part I:
"Maps," Yeah Yeah Yeahs
"About Her," John McDermott
"Harm of Will," Bjork
"TTITKB," Garbage
"Half a World Away," Esthero
"Epoca," Gotan Project
"Chaiya Chaiya," Dil Se

"Bazigaar o Bazigaar," Bazigaar
"Coffee and Cigarettes." St. Germaine
"Y-Control," Yeah Yeah Yeahs
"Planets of the Universe," Stevie Nicks
"Let's Dance," David Bowie
"Pulk/Pull Revolving Doors," Radiohead
"Under the Bridge," RHCP

Part II forthcoming...

Friday, August 27, 2004

Itinerary for Aug. 27th:
1. dentist: talkative hygienist, met new dentist whose brother is manager of K+G
2. rockport shoes to buy new sandals with mom
3. home for lunch. clear out walls for new mounted shelves.
4. maynard for consultation with computer geeks associate- tells me my laptop is fucked.
5. erikson's for black raspberry ice cream
6. daksha aunties to get food
7. home to change into sneakers
8. library to get cd's (radiohead, david bowie, stevie nicks, annie lennox, and almost famous soundtrack), videos (in and out, breakfast at tiffany's, mrs. dalloway), dvd's (tadpole)
9. lake berlin for a walk with mom
10. home to cook cous cous
11. parent's bedroom to watch movies- ABORTED
12. burned radiohead cd while mom left for northborough
13. washed down my bedroom walls
14. sandpapered the trimming
15. paint sample
16. talked to joe
17. folded laundry and watched mrs. dalloway

"... living one's life for one day is so difficult."

Thursday, August 26, 2004

this is the way the world ends
this is the way the world ends
this is the way the world ends
not with a bang, but a whimper

in my bag:
a fil-o-fax. my grandfather's wallet. my south africa journal. pictures abra took prior to the pleasure and shame party. an address book. 20% off coupon to borders. art exhibit pamphlet from University of the Witswatersrand. cell phone. cardigans CD. esthero CD. 10% off coupon for greyhound...

cut the grass.
wrote out versions of my resume.
read eustace chisolm and the works.
watched the olympics.
took pictures.
stayed up via chicago.
listened to wilco.

Wednesday, August 25, 2004

On my desk:
the Young and the Evil
to Venus and Back, Tori Amos,
and Mos Def
a cell phone, a calculator,
a note pad and old emails from Latonya,
a jar of red paint,
a shoebox with nothing in it,
and a lock without a key,
a tape measure,
a pen,
a rolling error-eraser,
and somethign called an "acco"- god knows what that's for,
and my pearl ring ( i don't wear anymore)

The runway movies on style.com have changed format. If you are experiencing errors with the new format, you might be able to view Fall 2004 movies directly from the designer's wesbites. Here are a couple of links:

John Galliano, both Women and Men's Fall 2004 (www.johngalliano.com)
Burberry's, both Women and Men's Fall 2004 (www.burberry.com)
Dior (Flash site), Women's and Homme 2004, 2005 (www.dior.com)
Gucci, (Flash image site), Women and Men's, the last collections before Tom Ford left (

Tuesday, August 24, 2004

Summer 2004 Reading list:

The Informers, Bret Easton Ellis
Rules of Attraction, Bret Easton Ellis
Glamorama, Bret Easton Ellis
The Bostonians, Henry James
The Persian Boy, Mary Renault
The Married Man, Edmund White
Young Torless, Robert Musil
The Young and the Evil, Charls Henri Ford
Eustace Chisolm and the Works, James Purdy
Christopher and His Kind, Christopher Isherwood
The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde
The Judgment of Paris, Gore Vidal
Catch-22 (maybe?)

My one regret this summer? I saw Ryan McGinley's photographs when they were hanging at Peter Hays Halpert's gallery when they were approximately a thousand per photograph. I was actually going to buy one of those photographs. Now, he's been featured in Jane, Rolling Stones, SPIN, Interview Magazine and numerous others and suddenly, the price of each photograph explodes.

You can no longer see his photos on the Peter Hays Halpert website. You can see Ben Watts, however, at the Scout Gallery webiste (
www.scoutgallery.com) and older modern-beat generation photographs at the Agnes B. (French designer) website (www.agnesb.fr).

Take a look. It's in a book. Reading Rainbow.

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