is the word 'diary' better than the word 'blog'? probably not.
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New York Speed.
New York was fun. There was a lot of rushing around on public transit to get to various places in not-quite-enough time. The Sartre Society was uneventful but fairly interesting, plus I got to hang out with Stacy and Sam for a bit. {Tiny conversation: Q. How does a person who is too easily angered by Sartre end up giving a paper at the Sartre Society? A. Friendship.} My paper went over well, except that an older man tried to pull me into an extended argument about whether Levinas� ethics could be understood in a secular manner at all. He had made up his mind otherwise. I pushed him on it fairly relentlessly for awhile, not because he was going to change his mind but because he was so certain I would change mine. (Sam said: �that was a good paper! I liked what you said, how you said it, and how you handled the questions!� It�s good to have friends.)
That was Friday late afternoon. At around 6:15 I sped back to Linda & Marian�s to change clothes (I didn�t, after all that, come up with an outfit that would be OK for a train ride, the Sartre Society, a dinner party, and a �Monsters and Sex� tattoo artist party. I split it into two outfits.) and then I rushed on down to have dinner at Prune. Now, the name �Prune� doesn�t exactly sound like it would be a current favorite on the New York scene (eating at "Prune" sounds as inviting as shopping at "Big Girls' Bras"), but yet it is, from what I hear. We had an intimate little table in the basement around which we clustered 11 people, who ate a lot of food and drank a lot of wine and had a bit of a raucous good time. Then I caught the L train to Brooklyn and walked over to the art opening and then to the party at Roebling Tea Room.
Wendy was finishing up a meal with some European artist types. She, as she always does, immediately introduced me as a professor, and added that I had just given a paper at the meeting of the Sartre society. Oh how she loves to do that. I then found myself giving an impromptu rendition of my paper to the table, and fielding a whole new set of questions on temporality in Nietzsche. Europeans always like philosophy. They also tend to have good shoes (as long as we�re making generalizations). I asked one woman at the table where she had gotten her boots (they were tall knee-high boots with an extra strap at the top that was kinda sexy in a boyish-girlish way) and she said, �they�re by a designer named Anne Demuelemeester,� as if I would have no idea what she was talking about and I was all, �OH, I HAVE OFTEN WISHED I COULD AFFORD A PAIR OF HER SHOES,� etc., and then she was all, �well there is a discount outlet for them in Antwerp,� and I�m like, totally, �apparently I need to go to Belgium.� Then the Europeans had to leave because they had early flights the next morning.
Then Chris Conn walked up to the table to talk to Wendy. Which is weird because he is the father of Cash, my favorite 12-year-old hottie, son of Leisa and steppish-son of Sunny, back in San Francisco. But the world is very small even though it is also very large, and when you are a person who ends up hanging out with tattoo artists, well, then you meet the father of your favorite 12-year-old in New York instead of San Francisco, and it hardly even seems strange. I talked to Chris for awhile, mostly about Cash, but then he had to leave because he had an early flight the next day to go out to SF to see his son!
So Wendy and I moved over to Ari�s table, where he was sitting with a guy named Chops, and they thought their very important political conversation was over because girls had just sat down, so I talked the shit out of some complaints about our lawless president for awhile just to show them what was what. Then Ari whipped out his toys (literally. he has just produced a line of toys based on some of his art) and we played with them, and I congratulated him on having created some toys of great thought and imagination. Then he drove Wendy and I to the subway because it was almost 2 and it was raining very hard.
On Saturday I felt slightly hungover from my RAGING night of drinking white wine (so sad, so sad how things have turned out, hahaha). So I went to a diner somewhere between 3rd and 22nd (L&M�s) and 6th and 23rd (subway stop to get to Lincoln Center for more Sartre) and had a very satisfying grilled cheese and pepsi. Then there was some Sartre-talk. And then Stacy and I had had enough and skipped out to go get some excellent Italian food in the neighborhood. We had fun talking about the ups and downs of these lives we live as academic-types. And we had some Prosecco.
Then I went back to Linda and Marian�s and took a nap, and then I woke up and read some trashy magazines while watching TV, and then I went out to a party with Wendy, but the party wasn�t all that exciting (even though it was thrown by the glamorous woman who once said "the trench coat will continue to be important..."), so I was back home by 11, and then I watched SNL with Linda. On Sunday Linda, Patrick, Larisse, Jeremy, Wendy and I had brunch at Dressler in Brooklyn (yum! I recommend for brunch!), and then Patrick, Linda and I drove to Red Hook to go to Fairway for groceries (for them). I went because I figured I could find there two things I have needed but have not found in Philadelphia markets so far: harissa and white tea. I did. (If you are unfamiliar with the wondrous taste of harissa, you should remedy that, STAT. White tea too.) And I got some couscous and some dark-chocolate-covered-raisins. Then it was back to Manhattan, and off to my train rides back to the suburbs.
On Friday I was marveling, as I impatiently maneuvered my way past some talkers who were blocking the napkin dispenser at a caf�, at how swiftly one can take on the air of a New Yorker when one is in Manhattan. There I was, all out of joint because I could not get at the napkins with the speed I would have liked.
But then, on Sunday, when it was time to get on the train from Penn to Trenton, I realized that my New Yorkerness only goes so far. There was a train at 5:01, and like 18 million people waiting for it. But there was also a train at 5:09 and 5:14, going to the very same place, in roughly the same amount of time. And what did the 18 million people do? They all got on the 5:01 train. What did I do? I got on the 5:09 train and luxuriated in having three seats to myself.
Today I caught up with some work, made some yummy leek & white bean & shrimp soup, and some banana cupcakes with almond frosting (which are tasty!).
12:16 a.m. - October 31, 2006
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