habit

my baaaa-aack: the sequel. leo is a genius. i woke up and had a virtually pain free day. fucking awesome. going to try this new concept they call 'sleeping in bed' again tonight. its just bad because my bedroom is closer to the street and the big trucks in the morning zooming by are hard to sleep through at such close proximity. problematic. too hot to close windows.

slept not enough. woke up and got ready for bris. this was more than likely the last bris i will attend voluntarily. number one..its just not right. i couldn't watch. poor baby must be in such pain...and the first pee afterwards...eeeyow. second of all, what a cultural nightmare. the women had to sit seperate from the men which is just incredibly offensive. there is actually a prayer in the books in orthodox synagogues where men thank god for not making them female. can you say 'i resent that....and also...fuck you!'? i knew you could. and then the people. noone cares about the ritual, there is no spirituality to it at all, and thus it does not need to happen. the yentas yenta and there is too much perfume and then its off to the buffet. i could not believe how much money was wasted on this event. what a spread. i ate like a king. which i'm not complaining about, but what horrible grandstanding and competition these supposed holy rituals have become.

the baby was tiny and perfect and my auntie pearl (really my dad's aunt) was beaming. so it was worth it for that. plus she told me she was so happy i could be there. nice. that warm family feeling.

did you hear screaming at around 4? its funny, i go off about how its barbaric to do this to an infant only days old, and how it should be his choice...and then i head off to get the hair ripped from my most sensitive areas with hot wax later the same day. the baby wailed louder, but not by much. just kidding, its not that bad anymore, nor is it my MOST sensitive areas. in honor of my suffering for beauty i bought myself two new pairs of underwear and 4 new pairs of cool ugly socks. 4 for ten bux. what a steal. am wearing rainbow stripes as i type this. i wanna say they are funky but then anita's head would pop off her neck.

then it was time for work. everyone is in 'sink with the ship mode' but considering that are all upbeat. we had fun tonight, whipped cream food fights and playing tricks on each other. it was dead out there...the amount of tips i've made in the last three nights is pitiful. and the fucking payroll moron didnt put my 4% on my check as i had requested. that guy is a fucking idiot beyond compare. why can't he just do what i fucking asked him to do. remembering about that is causing my blood to boil. gonna let it go or else get all aggravated.

a breath and a....ok, there.

its 7 months to the day that i have been tobacco free. cue the applause and the dancing bears. for me, javi won his sixth straight start. orlando cabrera (short stop golden glove contender, mark my words) did an online chat that i caught the last end of. neither of my questions made it, unfortunately. i asked if he has a clubhouse nickname yet, that the public just hasnt heard. i suggested 'clutch' because he always does what we need when we need it. i hope he read it and it sticks. cuz then its all me, baby. me and orlando. me and clutch. and he can hook me up with javi. ok that pic is kinda scary, but look at that effort. i dont know that i've ever given so much of myself in anything i've done in my entire life. and that is just one pitch. sigh. i think i'm in love.

i did not win in the ten club groundworks ticket contest. when i read of a fellow ampj-regular winning i found i could not be happy for him. this is not in the pearl jam spirit of things, but i was too busy being bummed that i did not receive a similar email/phone call from the ten club folks. oh well. it'll pass. its not like i dont have tickets already.

ugh. the freakin students have come back to town. why must they get drunk and loud on my street? why do i find them ever so annoying? is it because they travel in large packs?

so. that was my day for the most part. i applied for a bunch of jobs on monster.ca that i am probably either underqualified for but who cares. also a bunch i would probably hate to have so it balances out. i waste their time, but also my own, so its even.

i am exhausted. i could not wake up at work. i did muster the energy to scoff down nachos, cheese sticks, cheesecake and lord knows what else though. when its quiet there its boring. and what better to do than eat?

good night muchachos.

oh. the low point: i had a single diner tonight, a 20 year old new zealander with dimples to melt for who was happy and loves my city. he asked about the legal drinking age so i had to ask how old he was. i said i would have thought older as have really lost any ability to tell age and hate numbers. so i got cheeky and asked him to guess how old i am because more often than not people guess 22? 24? 26? and i eat it up and grin from the inside out. this kid says:...29? i couldn't believe it. i had to walk away. snivelling kiwi bastard, who does he think he is getting my age almost dead on. i gotta wash that grey right outta my hair.

there. thats the perfect final thought to go to bed on. cutie patootie nails me for grandmother i am. fabutastic.

and if you threw a party...invited everyone you knew...you would see the biggest gift would be from me and the card attached would say thank you for being a friend. =)

the saga i shall entitle: my baaa-aack (said like that blonde girl in poltergeist said it).

but wait. before that let me just say this: i came home to ONLY junk mail in my email box. wanna know how to feel like a loser? thats how.

ok back to my baaaa-ack. it went from bad to worse today. it was my good fortune though to find out that leo is a certified massage therapist. i had no idea. he did some work on me at work and then after work, bless his soul, he came home with me and gave me the full deal, with oil. thats the first professional massage i've ever had aka one that didn't lead to fooling around of some kind within minutes of commencement. it was really cool, but also not so because it shows that something is really fucked up back there, on the right hand side. he made me promise to not sleep on the couch tonight, and to not sit long at the computer. i will comply.

i feel all warm and relaxed as a result. sleep is not far off.

i also found out today something i am not supposed to repeat, so if you are local and reading this, please, only talk about it with me, i beg of you. for now anyway. it seems like 95% official that the restaurant will in fact be closing this month. this is SO VERY BAD i cannot tell you, though i am not panicking. number one, i just had a massage and am fully mellowed out. number two, its not like waitressing gigs aren't abundant. it just sucks because i am so spoiled where i am, and could possibly have to become the new kid somewhere else. i could just go to where kelcey and denis are, assuming they would hook me up, and possibly not be unemployed long.

of course i seriously hope that somehow something happens to prevent this closure. it is not what i want. how can the universe go against me so violently? have they forgotten that its all about ME??

i am not going to mention guilt over going on a trip when potentially out of a job. the flights are not refundable. and i deserve it. and i will find something else if it comes to that. something better. everything happens for a reason.

me and sergio went to this job fair today. i dropped 7 resumes, and faxed two more at work. thats productive. some were restaurant, others were with headhunter type places, and some were directly writing related. cross your fingers for me.

i got email earlier in the day from stein. she wanted to know if she and john and sammy (their doggie) could stay here for rosh hosh. the answer i wanted to provide was yes, because i love pammy and i love having company and it would have been fun. what i had to say was more negatory though because of the sammy factor. the cats did not enjoy his presence here last time, and that was like for an hour. i dont think they'd appreciate a weekend too much and i dont want a house full of stressed out animals. those dopes should learn to leave their dog at home! are you guys reading this?? hello!

my back is covered in oil. it smells good, and feels loose but tender. how sweet of leo to do this free. i'm going to have to get him something nice. especially if he actually fixes it.

so, this girl i work with, chantal, has entered this contest where she could win a trip to club med, and i'm all for helping her to do so. its for some beer website. there are 20 girls and they have to narrow that number down to ten and its by public voting. you can check out the ladies here and i am surprised to see myself getting involved in this kind of thing. but i like chantal, and she is cool about it. she doesn't skank around and isnt a bimbo model type...she just really wants the vacation. so check it out and give her a vote if you are so inclined. i'm sure the male factor won't mind lookin at the ladies. my city has such beautiful people. here is some proof. not that i wasn't proof enough. muahahahhahaha.

if it were up to me the ten would be: chantal (hey, i gots to be loyal. people at work think she looks like denise richards. to me she is just goofy chantal), annie, karine, katherine #2, and roxanne. ok thats only 5, but thats as far as my taste takes me. and i have devoted far too much attention to this to begin with, and it makes me feel shallow to choose and dismiss based on looks alone. but you can sort of get a sense of some personality in some of the pictures. or so they would have me believe. and also, this IS for a beer site. so what the fuck.

the highlight of my day: seeing michael jackson dance for twenty seconds on some cheesy awards show where everyone acts like they are too cool to care about being there, and yet there they are. he was amazing. he is amazing. i need michael jackson in my cd collection. i would love to see him work it. but i am not about to shell out more than 40 odd dollars to do that. hayell no. anyway, he still got it. even if now when he does it he sure be lookin scary.

still no announcement on pitcher of the month.

no email from tenclub congratulating me on being a winner in the groundworks contest.

no sleep till brooklyn.

note to those receiving massages: the pearl jam xmas singles cd works nicely until fuck me in the brain. at that point you will begin laughing rather hard while the masseuse wonders why you, as the listener of this kind of thing, are not incarcerated. leo's exact comment: THIS is what you listen to on your headphones all the time?? i was like: no. well...sometimes. =)

welcome to the weekend. its around the bend.

what i got: a new mouse. and a new keyboard.

what i need: a new dorsal area aka back.

i went in to future shop to innocently purchase the mouse i required. and i was right. this new one doesnt have the pausing/freezing problem the other crappy one had. so hooray! i wish the left click button was a little quieter, but what can you do. i had two boxes in my hand at the store. same brand. one a 59.99 mouse, and the other on sale for 29.99. i caught a floor person and asked if the difference in price between the two was worth it. he told me without hesitation: no. he said the costlier one if anything was more annoying than the cheaper one, and that there wasnt that much difference otherwise. i told him he rocks. honesty and knowledge in a salesperson. how refreshing. no offense, salespeople. it just seems 9 of 10 are morons with that blank look in their eyes that to me says: just-buy-it-i-need-the-commission while empty words spew from their mouths.

having just saved myself 30 bones, i strolled past the keyboards. mine wasn't misbehaving or anything, but it was certainly filthy and moody at times. i saw a microsoft internet one on sale for 39.99. it felt clickety-clackety enough, and was big and clean. so i grabbed it. proof of how deep my emotions run: when i unplugged the crappy samsung for the last time before setting up this new keyboard, i actually had to pause and got a bit emotional. this keyboard had been with me from day one. it had served me well.

this new one is pretty sweet though. there are keys that open my email and explorer right from here. true, its more money in bill gates' pocket and i suck for it, but...what're you gonna do. it had the best price. the keys are a bit mushier than i wanted them to be, and it makes for a much quieter typing session. i wish the mouse and the keyboard would switch character flaws...but its not really all that important, just takes getting used to. the new keyboard is big like an island and so clean and purty.

i am so happy motorcycle season is almost over. not only are they death machines, but they are so fucking loud and everybody thinks they are fonzie and make such a racket down my street. i remember in san fran some of the hogs would make the houses shake.

i am tempted to dip my cat's paws in ben gay and try to get them to walk all over my back. it is sore in places i cant reach. i can't tell if its really damaged or if it just needs to be cracked and stretched, since it has been awhile since i've done any excercise and it is used to at least weekly yoga. all i know is that i bent over at work a few times and my back wanted to stay that way. not good. my co-workers told me they can feel that the right side of it is stiffer and somehow 'bigger' than the right side. not what you want to hear. hi, i'm quasimodo.

and work sucked large. the week after labor day always sucks, but i was hoping to earn back what i spent at futureshop. i was 20 bucks shy of that. i guess technically i made it in wages, but its not the same.

the pearl jam tenclub contest for a ticket to groundworks officially ended just 18 minutes ago, at midnight. let the games begin!

my earliest memories of favorite songs:

-did you happen to see the most beautiful girl in the world?
-rhinestone cowboy (how thrilled was i to find the radiohead cover)
-total eclipse of the heart (at the same time my brother's was my sharona)
-candy girl

that random moment down memory lane sponsored by the letter y.

my cell phone rings and instantly i think someone is calling to report bad news to me. its rare that it rings, you see. so my dad called up and it turns out there was a birth, not a death. my distant cousin ian had a son and my dad was calling to see if i would go to the bris. ian's mother, my dad's aunt pearl, is super cool and i decided to go, for her, even though a bris is not something i believe in as i am sure that such a brutal cut does *something* to stunt or scar the child who bears it.

bad move.

i came home to find that orlando cabrera, expos shortstop and my vote for a golden glove though he wont get it, will be chatting online friday at 1:30 in the afternoon. the circumcision is at noon. dammit! not that i have a clue what i would ask him (maybe if javi is single and has a thing for jewish girls) but it is definitely something i would have enjoyed being part of. oh well. i sacrifice that for my aunt pearl (her name IS *pearl* after all) and for my new third cousin's foreskin.

me and the expos. someone cue up 'hopelessly devoted to you' from the grease soundtrack. my obsession with the team has clearly surpassed any normal boundaries. i have taken to talking to cab drivers about baseball stuff. maybe i just love how amazed most guys are by a girl who not only loves the team, but kind of knows her shit too.

and there is my latest bad habit. it seems i have traded in good girl stephanie: goes to the gym, spends next to nothing...for bad girl stephanie: lazes around and takes cabs daily, shells out for wardrobe and computer. i'm not in miami, but i sure got the vice thing going anyway.

anyone remember the name of crockett's alligator on that show?

my wish for the day: that bayleaf decides to play a friday night show in san francisco the night before the bridge shows. that would be too cool.

my cool moment of the day: i randomly IMd anil who i havent spoken to in ages. i ask him whats new and exciting and he tells me its his birthday today. how cool. criminally, he hadnt eaten cake and thus hadnt blown out candles and thus hadnt made a wish. i amended that situation asap. some things are plain wrong.

mac's favorite toy is htis mini bean bag doll that i have from even before i was listening to the songs mentioned above. its tiny, a bit bigger than my pinky in length and about twice the width. he carries it around in his mouth and bats at it with his paws and sticks his claws into it and swings it around...its too adorable. i gotta get picture access on here. you would plutz. this linda richman moment brought to you by lender's bagels, the crappiest bagels on earth.

oh no i've said too much. i haven't said enough. except yes i have. michael stipe. what a weirdo. because i am such the picture of sanity. riiiight. adios muchachos.

i know i have said it before, but it bears repeating: fucking baseball needs to implement using instant replays to overturn the bad bullshit calls of the overaged overeating vision impaired umpires. translation: the expos lost because the fucking ump said a brave was safe on a steal when the replay clearly showed he was out, out, out. how many games have the expos lost this way? so annoying. and what is taking them so long to name javi vasquez aka expo i'd be quickest to sleep with as national league pitcher of the month? if they give it to someone else there will be hell to pay! and hell is expensive!

so yeah. this morning i woke up and chantal was gone. it was too early to be functional so i moved into the guest room and crashed on the BED. it was the first time in ages, but my neck and shoulder were so sore i had to try something. i woke up feeling great. this however was fleeting...twenty minutes into my shift at work and my middle back was screaming for attention. i need such a serious massage. my manager told me he could feel that shit was not where it should be on my back. not good.

the red sleeveless t shirt i bought makes my already endowed bosom look still bigger. danny told me 'you look good in red'. yeah right, i know what that means. it means: nice knockers, segal. or maybe i shouldnt be so cynical. i do look good in red, after all.
=)

did maps for the cali hotel to shoreline amphitheater: 6 minutes, 4.2 miles.
did maps for the cali hotel to jess, rich, bowman and alex's hotel: 5 minutes, 2.6 miles.
i think the mapquest ratio for minutes:miles is a tad off, but what do i know. numbers are foe, not friend.

tonight the restaurant was closed to the public so this law firm could have their little soiree at our place. it was easy money, but involved the shlepping of alot of tables and chairs to clear the room, and then to refill it. my job was to hustle the grub, as in carry the hors d'oevres around on big trays. it makes me very happy to feed people. i dont mind at all, and it makes me happy when they take from the tray. yes, because the tray is that much lighter, but mostly because i just am so passionate about the whole food thing, it doesnt even matter to me that its not me thats eating, or that its meat being eaten. just as long as people eat, drink and be merry. its such a basic happiness too. kinda neat to acknowledge it. no wonder i like my job and have stuck with it so long.

at one point me and angela crossed paths directly in front of this one young lawyer in malcolm x glasses with a cute blond haircut. me and angie kinda paused to make eye contact and before we could get moving again young lawyer boy says "this has been a fantasy of mine since high school. me and two girls....with huge trays of food between us." it was cute and he referred to me as a girl, which i loved. me and angie just smiled and laughed. my witty retort: NADA. my mind blanked. about ten minutes later 'thats not the first time we've heard that' jumped into my head but the moment was kind of done, what with it being ten minutes later and all. oh well. at least i know this: in a room of about 250 lawyers ONE has a sense of humor.

tonight it seemed to be turtle buffet night. first i commanded eevee down from the turtle tank, where she was lapping up his water. then mac was up there, sniffin at the turtle and poking him with his paw, and i chased him down. repeat ad nauseum. what the dealie? i find it interesting though that the turtle doesnt fear the cats, and that the cats arent trying to snuff the turtle. maybe turtledude is lonely and he senses brethren in the felines. lord knows if i put my finger to the glass or in the tank he is snappin to bite it like a mofo. but not the kitties. they go nose to nose and its all good in their hood. very cool.

yes my turtle's name is turtledude. not EVERYTHING has to have a pearl jam tie in, you know.

i could have gone to see O with some work folks tonight. but i passed. my back be achin and i have spent so much in the last few days on eating and clothing that i cant justify racking up an entertainment bill right now. a bunch of people apparently got together and watched requiem for a dream, mike mccready's favorite movie when it came out. i have yet to see it. they were raving about it, luckily in french so i could block most of it out and have no spoilers. but that does it. i gotta see that. and memento.

i think its safe to say that my computer problem is my mouse, not my computer. twice tonight ive had to shut down and restart because my pointer would freeze and disappear. bye bye dexxa mouse, thanks for nothing. its less than a year old. a new one is on the frontier. but in thinking that it was the pc and the fan and all that, i have trained myself to be more energy efficient and actually shut down the computer when i'm not on it. go me!

train was on rosie o donnell today. they played drops of jupiter, which rosie kept saying was her song for the summer. it was probably mine too, because i really like it. i love the soy latte part, and the best friend sticking up for you part, and the fried chicken part. i didnt love how they played it note for note as they do on the single and i especially didnt love how rosie kept saying 'train will be on to SING later'. thats just insulting to the band. a band doesn't sing...the proper verb was PLAY. annoying.

today for some reason i had 28 hits to my site. maybe more by now. that is highly exciting and much higher than the regular average. so if yer a new reader: hiya! welcome to the thrill-pit of my life. return, and bring friends.

to all you regulars: why dont any of you buy me donuts? what are you people good for?

gnight ya greedy bastards. take take take.

=)

i cant believe today wasnt sunday. i know it was monday, but it had sunday written all over it. something in the air.

today's mission: clean out the back room. i have been living here for three years now. in that back room, the room with the water heater and the room to the fire escape, since i've been here, has been mostly stuff that didnt belong to me. it was the old smelly dusty crap that other tenants left behind and it was a total dark musky mess and i didnt want to deal with it. would you?

so three years pass in that state and now with my fire phobia, its over. i got down and dirty in there. i tell you, there are few things creepier than digging through other people's memories and lives. someone who lived here was once a fisherman. i found two nets, a gutting knife (how pleasant), and a tackle box. i had to psych myself up to open the tackle box because who the hell knew what was in there. turns out: lures. blech. i found tons of books and letters and just plain crap. i found the playbill for some play, and a letter to the actor in it from the director, and below that a pamphlet titled 'the gay man's guide to stds'. wonderful.

there was some cool shit in there. i found a laptop computer! i almost wet myself. but it turns out to be ancient, like it could be from the set of 2001 space odyssey. what i would do for a laptop computer...so i'm gonna look on ebay for wires, cuz there are none. the thing probably runs on dos, so i don't know that i should bother. i also found a perfectly good big ikea mirror which i hung in pud's room (aka the guest room) so that when you look in it it reflects the window on the wall opposite it and the plant hanging there and makes the room look bigger. cool. there's also what seems to be a projector screen back there, and what i think is a big double air mattress but both those things require further investigation.

but its so much more organized now. i laid some tiles down in there, that i found in the shed. i wish i had more, it makes such a difference. the floor in there is nasty and warped and unfinished. i'm pretty satisfied with the job i did. now 90% of the stuff in there actually belongs to me. and it only took me three years.

i shlepped this big broken black chair out to the curb. an hour later i brought down some more shit, and the chair was already gone. did i mention it was broken? one man gathers what another man spills.

can anyone name that quote? anyone?

chantal returned at around 7 and we made reservations at ginger for 8 30. woo, more eating. it was so cool, again. and the eatin was marvelous. we had a little too much sake and had a hysterical fit at the counter in blockbuster where for sure everyone thought we were stoned. what dopes...we were drunk, not high! the agedashi tofu was divine. the spring rolls amazing. the sushi...so-so. but it was fun. perhaps it was the sake that caused our unfotunate movie selection: save the last dance. i'll tell you what to save: your money. don't waste it on this movie. the dancing isnt good, the music isnt good, and the story is cornball and totally un-fresh. i loved one scene...when i saw it in grease. and i loved another...when i saw it in boys n the hood. if you rent it, rent finding forrester on the same night, and see the difference. one is art, the other is two hookers and an eight ball. sean penn had it so right.

chantal hates cats. this is a problem. it hurts me to see my kitties be shoved aside, or not melt the heart of whoever they are stabbing with their too long claws. they're so cute and goofy. she is evil. little miss pitbull. the alarm in her room is set at 5:50 am. mega yuck. her flight is at 7 30. and then she goes to the office. key-ryste.

i had my second mini anxiety attack about going on an airplane tonight. chantal was talking about her carry-ons and i visualized shoving them into an overhead compartment, and i got that feeling in my stomach and head and got all tense and had to talk myself down from it, and did. it will be fine, people fly every day and its fine and blah blah. it hit me yesterday that i will be on five planes in seven days. kind of insane. five take offs, five landings...hours of stress. pearl jam better play. it. up. and if something happens, it better be on the way back.

nothing will happen. nothing will happen. nothing will happen.

nothing will happen.

ok.

i feel like talking about it here is being prophetic or jinxing or whatever, and that is nonsense and paranoid. you would think that the older you get the better you would become at dealing with the inevitability of death and with fears and such. but it seems with me they are worsening. even i am surprised by how strongly that fire last weekend caused me to react, and i used to have no problem with airplanes at all. its as i got older that its gotten worse. anyone have any theories on this? please, i could use light shedding.

i think i gotta work on getting back into the gym routine. i think an active body will make a more relaxed mind.

toby: i think it means that we are interesting and different, not run of the mill or typical and small minded folks cant put their finger on exactly why, and have to grasp at a label quick, before their minds wander and expand. wouldnt want that. i think its a good thing, tho i stand by hating to be misunderstood.

jess: read ya. good job. =) oh! remind me to tell you chantal's 'sat next to nick from backstreet boys on a flight to maui five years ago' story. i think you'll like it.

bri: i can't believe yer sitting there and still didnt say hi. what? you got first row bridge tix or something?? =P

thats pretty much the dilly. turned the sof boy calendar (scroll down to the last item) over to september. i cant even believe it, feels like i just hung the thing up and its almost time to replace it. its my second sof boy in a row. wonder what the theme will be for 2002. 2 is my lucky number, bein born the second day of the second month. i wanna say should be a good year but am all freaked out about jinxing and cursing myself by saying so like in the above paragraphs somewhere, and thus causing myself to not be present for it. i really am psychotic. i knew this, but in certain moments it really hits home. if i keep up honset posts like this someone gonna call the funny farm to take me away to my new padded room. some of you must know where im coming from though. lets not talk about this anymore. lets talk about sofboy. ain't he cute in his space suit?

cough*denial*cough.

so yeah. ha. feels good to get all that twisted paranoia and evil puked out onto the page. like it does after you barf up whatevers been making you nauseous. should only happen about 1000 more times before bridge.

and with that lovely image of regurgitation, i shall depart for the evening. have a swell tuesday. merry christmas to all, and to all a good flight. i mean good night. =) even when im panicking about death, i still got it.

to the makers of ben gay: bless your hearts.
to the makers of cricks in necks after bad sleeps on couches: you suck. i hate you.

busy busy bee was i. tho the crick in the neck sucked the wet end, my beginnings of the day were brightened by this email in my inbox:
My name is Stephanie and I am in 3rd grade. My homework is to write about
my name and with the help of my father we found your funny review on the
Internet. I hope you don´t mind that I use some of your ideas.
As we say here in Brazil, where I live,
Viva as Stephanies.
yours,
Stephanie Feder
São Paulo/Brazil

how sweet and adorable?! i loved that. (she speaks of my piece on reviewguys, go into archives and dig out the first ever issue) they say 'write what you know' so for my first ever official review i wrote on being named stephanie. i wrote her back saying that i was flattered and that she can probably come up with great ideas of her own too, and that id love to read her homework when she's done. and i would.

then productive mode was switched on. i emptied my shed and back room of all the paints, stains, thinners, and assorted other deadly materials the previous tenants here had left behind. he must have left over 200 dollars worth of such stuff. what a moron. it took me four trips down two flights of stairs to get it all out and loaded in to the car. me and dad drove to this dumpsite in the middle of nowhere and then were off to the movies. downtown was packed crazily. there was no way we were going to find parking. and then we did, and a prime spot it was. very exciting, with only two minutes to get to the theater.

we saw 'the score'--de niro, brando and ed norton. the real star was the city in which it was filmed: montreal. and it was so cool because they didnt film here and pretend it was some american town, they embraced the city and the lifestyle in the movie. and the movie is good, with a great ending. the area deniro lives in in the movie, old montreal--beautiful, in an incredible loft with a kitchen i would kill for. see it, check out where i be living. its worth the admission price.

we went to boccacino's for dinner. i won't return. my waiter was a rude bastard. my salad came with the dressing on the side. i like it tossed. i asked if they wouldnt mind taking it back and tossing it for me. they did. when he brought it back to me he put it down and said 'just so you know, we dont usually do this. so next time if you ask for this the answer will be no.' and then he walked away. next time?? how about just saying 'bon appetit' and walking the fuck away? i was not impressed, but i managed to just settle down and eat. i dont ALWAYS have to be a pain in the ass. but what rudeness.

ran into billy and lina (probably kitty/house sitters for bridge trip) and introduced them to my dad. billy is back to himself, which makes me so happy. he was shmoozing my dad big time 'finally i get to meet the man who created such a lovely creature' and my dad looked at me and said 'stephanie, this kid is full of shit' and i was like 'duh'. billy is such fun. love him. if he would quit work would be unbearable.

then me and my daddy cruised the bookstore. it always takes such discipline to not buy on a whim there. but i managed. my dad has read every spy/thriller/political/mafia book out there. every single one.

and then it was home. i napped briefly and enjoyed the silence. then i watched the sopranos and stupid stupid stupidly watched the news. i almost cried at the first story...a nine year old girl murdered probably by her father,and i will spare you how. but i am so lucky to have the folks that i do, to be able to hang with the old man all day and either talk or not talk. and i was so grateful to have gotten that email from stephanie in brazil whose dad helps her with homework. just to know the whole world hasnt totally gone off its tilt.

tomorrow id like to either go see the phillies at the big o (who we beat 2 out of 3) or go to the brome fair in the eastern townships. we used to go when i was little and i remember winning goldfish there one year. i think candy apples were involved too.

i remembered more of that reincarnation conversation with chantal. she believes that we come back and draw similar spirits and souls and people to us, to keep near us, or be our friends and foes. this would explain how sometimes you meet someone and it seems instantly you are comfortable together, or something pushes you to talk to that person though you couldnt really specifically say why. i certainly have felt that in my life, driven to people...i met j that way, and rich...i knew they would be friends before they ever knew who the fuck i was. i just KNEW. who knows. but i sure think its interesting, and i am going to read that book. as soon as i know the name of it i will include it here. maybe some of youse can read it along with me.

i have chantal trying to find the right hair cut thing for me. all i know is i want to keep it loooooong, and i dont want anything 'pretty' or flouffy, or that wings out. i want something cool. i just dont know what. i dont want to look like everyone else, and i do look like me. but lordums...i am starting to feel crystal gayle-y.

ooh sportsnight. must go watch the expos highlights.

perhaps more later. peace out homies.

the only negative thing about today was being stung by a bee on the booby. and that is all negative, not a good thing about it. of course there is humor in it...the movie in my vcr for the last 48 hours? robert redford and paul newman. the sting.

today was just perfect and lovely. sunny but brisk, and tonight downright nose-runnin' cold.

chantal got here around noon, which seems like a lifetime ago. we chatted a bit, and then set out to eat lunch and shop. both of which we did. i got a red sleeveless tshirt and a pair of black cords of the low rise variety. i never thought i would own a pair, but here i am wearing them as i type this. the best thing about them: when you stuff yourself at dinner you dont feel constricted and have to undo the button on your pants....your belly is free to protrude as far as it wants to. what a sexy image. pregnant women should be lining up for pants like this. chantal is the perfect shopping companion, in and out of the stores, no lingering or indecision and honest about how stuff looks. and it was fun.

she was exhausted from having not slept the night before and we headed home around 5 and she slept until 8. in that time posted about the evil bee sting incident (its calmer now tho it still hurts...i dont know if the stinger is in there or not. the redness and swelling are mostly gone.) and talked to anita, me on my side balcony and she on her back balcony and thus in full view of each other, which was funny. she had a house full of celebrating football fans (england won) and a few of the drunken hooligans spilled out onto the back porch to wave at me. it was like watching weird tv. she and j are trying to hook me up with his freaky friend steve. she told me they told him that he and i could have a good time together...horizontally. i have no comment on this. its funny, i guess. we talked for quite the while and then she left to go eat.

and then i heard someone in my stairs. it was anita, having let herself in. it seems that j was kind of...well there's no delicate way to say it jase...hurling. so we sat on the balcony as chantal snoozed and talked and laughed and it was fun. no waxing sentimental.

chantal and i headed over to chu chai for dinner. i have ordered this in on numerous occasions, but have never been to the joint before. it was small and nicely lit and we had a table for two near the front at 9 15. chu chai is all vegetarian thai food, but with fake meat and seafood products all made from soy stuff, and its fucking delicious. we had breaded and fried seaweed which i could eat till i erupt and is in an amazing sauce that reminds me of chinese ribs from when i did eat meat. then we had phad thai, fake chicken with fried spinach and peanut sauce, and tofu and vegetables in coconut milk ginger spicy sauce. enough food for an army but way too good to share with anyone. super yum. she loved it. green tea ice cream and lychee fruit for dessert.

and conversation was so good. we talked about all kinds of shit, her amazing job workin in conservation in dc and the travels it takes her on, and a bunch of stuff. she told me about this book she thinks i would like about a psychologist who treated a patient for anxiety, who always felt like she was choking. he put her under hypnosis and all this freaky shit came to pass, where she remembered having drowned in a past life and all this stuff that made me feel like if i had been high when hearing it i might have lost my mind. how people, under hypnosis, can speak fluently in other languages...proof of past lives? who am i to say. but it was interesting to consider that maybe we are the way we are not solely due to genetics. maybe i fear flying and heights for a reason, remnants of a past life. maybe my deep love of music could be explained were my past lives (if any) were revealed. fascinating stuff. i will find out the name of the book, and i will read it.

then we walked back home, and did a tour past the fire of last week. she misses the city alot, and its nice to see it through the eyes of someone who doesnt let things slip by, like the gorgeous architecture of some of the old buildings, and the rampant culture thats abundant. we stopped in at santropol for some tea, where i always go with out of towners. its just down the street and its this funky little tea and sandwich place thats built in the ground floor of a triplex. they have a magic garden out back, with a fountain and trees and there is always cool mellow music playing and cool mellow staff and the decor just soaks you in. great place.

when we finally got home i played some ani for chantal and she really dug that, which made me happy. we took pictures with chantal's awesome camera, which she can set up and then get in the picture and squeeze a button in her hand to snap the shot. supercool. i played her some leonard cohen and she really liked that too.

and it was just good to get so much time with chantal, and catch up and see what pages we are on and see that we can still get along so well. long lost friends should be found, i assure you. its so comfortable and interesting. it was a really good day.

the alarm unfortunately is set for 8 15 in the morning, cuz she is being picked up at 9. which is ok cuz i wanted to be up to do step and pilates at the gym at 10 30, but is also very soon. so much was remembered today, and so many stories of the recent past told, and so much talking and listening. it was really cool. and two saturdays in a row off work. i could get used to it. but i wont, unfortunately.

sorry boys, there were no pillow fights or negligees.

and with that, i must bid you all a sweet adieu. did you know adieu literally translates from the french to mean: to god? so i dont bid you a sweet to god. i bid you all bon soir instead. aka good night.

leonard cohen not only is a great writer, but his music is great to write to. so it is written, so shall it be done.