is the word 'diary' better than the word 'blog'? probably not.

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Liz Dunn!

Liz Dunn came to visit! While she was in town, one night she and I went to the funny/cheesy/famous oyster bar in Penn Station. No, not the classy one in Grand Central Station. The cheesy one in Penn Station, called Tracks. Get it? Tracks! It�s in a railroad station! We went there because Liz likes oysters, we both like booze, and we were scheduled to meet Gus who was arriving on a train from Philly. Our objective was to have cocktails and then take off to see the fashion exhibit at the ICP with Linda and Marian. Tracks has a �famous� 100-foot long bar dark wood bar, and it�s mostly full of guys waiting to commute back home to New Jersey at the 5:00 hour. This worked out just fine for us because two guys gave us their chairs and then chatted us up a bit, but not in an overly creepy way. Plus Liz is superskilled with the meaningless flirt. To me the guys said, �Oh, you�re the one who doesn�t say anything.� That�s right, bub.

Liz had oysters and I had a huge shrimp cocktail. The shrimp were so huge that Liz said, �I feel like I�m at a wedding and someone�s dad has something to prove.� Ha. Liz had a martini and I had a beer. Then Gus showed up. They had martinis, I had some water. Then they had more martinis, and I had a glass of wine. You would be right if you were to estimate that they were more inebriated than I was at that point. Then we went off to the museum. The show was good but not great.

Then it was time to think about food. The five of us tried going to a newish bar called something that it is impossible to remember. I just had to look it up using Google. It�s called Wilfie and Nell. We went there to meet an old friend of Liz�s, and throughout the evening we kept making up names for the bar because of its Teflon name. Most of the names do not bear repeating to an audience with tender ears. Anyway, Wilfie and Nell was way too loud and crowded. Liz was chatting up her friend while the rest of us struggled to justify any space we were taking up. And so Marian asked� �should we stay?� My response: �I am willing to yell, and I am willing to stand, but I am not willing to stand and yell.� She admitted that my response perfectly described her own feelings, so we left that crazy place and started doing that New York thing where we can�t decide where to go for dinner. I am always willing to go anywhere I haven�t been that looks decent and has open tables. But that�s not how New Yorkers roll. They need to know that the place is good, or well reviewed, or, well, some other list of mysterious requirements that I can�t seem to get a grasp of. I started to despair because it was cold and I was underfed. I begin declaring under my breath that if we didn�t decide soon I was taking advantage of the next subway stop to return to Brooklyn. (Me+Hungry=Profoundly Grumpy.) I finally suggested Do Hwa on Carmine, that seemed to work, and we ambled our way over there.

Everyone had more drinks, except me, because by then my stomach was all messed up. Do Hwa has wonderfully tasty drinks, though. You should have some. But I had some totally tasty stirfried kimchi amongst a table of fine company. And when we got home later, Gus and Liz dove drunkenly into a tub of ice cream, at which time Liz began swearing at the tub of ice cream for being too tasty. Apparently it was fucking with her project heifer plans. Gus and Liz bonded over their agreement that ice cream is the best dessert ever, and cast some aspersions on my purported agreement with Evany Thomas that cake is the best.

The next day Liz went off to her conference (ROFLcon� what?) and Gus and I worked at home. We met her later that night at Elizabeth for a meal with Merrill/Beth, Catherine, and her co-worker Nate. It was fun. Liz ordered a bottle of Veuve Clicquot. And then another, and then one more. I had upscale fish and chips which were really really good. And then Liz insisted on paying for everyone. It was crazy. And then, because we were drunk, we ended up wanting to drink more, so we wandered around looking for a bar where we wouldn�t have to stand and yell, and ended up in the terribly seedy Mars Bar, where we had bourbon, and fun, and encounters with crazy people.

The next day I was hungover. We had a lovely brunch at Abigail in my neighborhood. Then Liz went off to see Will Ferrell�s broadway show (she works with WF, so had gotten her hands on some free tickets, which is extra cool� I was jealous). Later I met Linda, Patrick and Yuki to buy drinks for Marian�s birthday at The Campbell Apartment in Grand Central. This was perfect because it was freezy frigid that day, and The Campbell Apartment is probably the only bar in the New York Metropolitan Area that I can get to without really being outside for more than a few minutes. I can cross the street at my house, get on the Shuttle, transfer to the 4/5, take it to Grand Central, and walk into a fabulous fancy bar (so fancy that it doesn�t let you in if you�re wearing sneakers, and that is all right with me).

Beyond that not much has happened besides a bunch of work, stress and anxiety. And now it�s back to work for me. Happy Monday to you all!

11:25 a.m. - February 02, 2009

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