I drove to West Hartford to visit an old college friend of my mother's, and current friend of mine. Her house is a cozy brick haven, decorated with lights and stained glass, and I even noticed that before plummeting face-first into the sheets in her spare bedroom and sleeping. I was so tired I was actually shaking, which is hilarious given that all I did was drive for 8.5 hours. I mean, I did it while stuffing my face with horrible sugary snack foods -- after a bowl of mini-wheats and some yogurt that morning, all I ate all day was half a brownie, a handful of Nibs, some CornNuts, and some marshmallow creme hearts that were 60 cents per 100g at the Bulk Barn. Then I had Pad Thai.
So we talked about music and politics and life and husbands and photography and pretty much everything ever, which was wonderful. Then I got in my car and drove to New York...well, more technically, Queens. There I joined a party thrown by my fashion designer friend Kazuki and her numerous extremely gay stylist/designer friends, who actually spent about an hour discussing Coco Chanel in depth. Kazuki calls them her stepdaughters "Aunties".
Driving across the Triboro Bridge was kind of impressive -- it was about 4:30, and I could see the whole blue-ish smoggy delta of Manhattan looming through the afternoon sun. The Empire State Building's spire peeked at me, and the White Album blasted on my iPod.
Life is great.