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perambulations
Apr. 28th, 2003 05:28 pmI'm typing away at the desk this afternoon, as Matt begins singing "Happy birthday to you" with great energy, in the seat next to mine. (They have all the night shift editors in a single pen in one office, so this doesn't draw the stares it otherwise might.) When he finishes, I give him a glance he seems to read as a question; he turns to me with his best fake-showbiz smile and announces, "It's Saddam Hussein's sixthy-sixth birthday today!"
A weekend of wandering, if nothing else. Went to see a genuinely charming production of Acis & Galatea Saturday night (in English- a first in my extremely limited opera experince); this led to a group meander to the Pig & Whistle, and catching up with various people.
Sunday was a birthday picnic for one of my oldest friends, in Central Park; the subway being up to its usual weekend antics (including an unexpected detour to Canal Street, where I have already spend quite enough time of late), I was rather late. Strange to talk to someone who's known me so long- since freshman year of college, in 1987. One moment, they'll mention something that only someone who's known me for ages would pick up on; the next, they'll make allusions which are years out of date. I feel as though our images of each other are somehow stuck in time; the Keith I know and the Fred he knows seem to be figures cast in Lucite, rather than living, changing beings. Odd.
Happily, had my thoughts taken away from these speculations by a delightfully bad dinner at Yaffa Cafe; contentedly ate my meal which watching someone I have no real fondness for send her dinner back for the third time (the waiter was something of a boor, which made the whole spectacle even more amusing). There were ominous rumblings of a Settlers of Catan-fest at Keith's house after, but I didn't have the strength; decamp to the Strand, then home across the Williamsburg bridge, singing all the way..
A weekend of wandering, if nothing else. Went to see a genuinely charming production of Acis & Galatea Saturday night (in English- a first in my extremely limited opera experince); this led to a group meander to the Pig & Whistle, and catching up with various people.
Sunday was a birthday picnic for one of my oldest friends, in Central Park; the subway being up to its usual weekend antics (including an unexpected detour to Canal Street, where I have already spend quite enough time of late), I was rather late. Strange to talk to someone who's known me so long- since freshman year of college, in 1987. One moment, they'll mention something that only someone who's known me for ages would pick up on; the next, they'll make allusions which are years out of date. I feel as though our images of each other are somehow stuck in time; the Keith I know and the Fred he knows seem to be figures cast in Lucite, rather than living, changing beings. Odd.
Happily, had my thoughts taken away from these speculations by a delightfully bad dinner at Yaffa Cafe; contentedly ate my meal which watching someone I have no real fondness for send her dinner back for the third time (the waiter was something of a boor, which made the whole spectacle even more amusing). There were ominous rumblings of a Settlers of Catan-fest at Keith's house after, but I didn't have the strength; decamp to the Strand, then home across the Williamsburg bridge, singing all the way..
