(no subject)

Random: in the course of helping move a friend-of-a-friend's stuff from my spare room to a storage facility today (he'd come down with hospital-serious Creeping Death- cardiac variety), I actually got to see one of my close friends at my house, for the first time ever. While hosting social gatherings ordinarily has all the charm for me of filing taxes, I was amused to discover that the (negligible) sociable part of my brain had suddenly engaged, and was all HEY YOU CAN THROW A FORMAL DINNER PARTY WHERE THE GUESTS ARE SEATED ON SOFAS, RIGHT...?

(no subject)

Random: in the course of helping move a friend-of-a-friend's stuff from my spare room to a storage facility today (he'd come down with hospital-serious Creeping Death- cardiac variety), I actually got to see one of my close friends at my house, for the first time ever. While hosting social gatherings ordinarily has all the charm for me of filing taxes, I was amused to discover that the (negligible) sociable part of my brain had suddenly engaged, and was all HEY YOU CAN THROW A FORMAL DINNER PARTY WHERE THE GUESTS ARE SEATED ON SOFAS, RIGHT...?

(no subject)

And this, as it turned out, was pretty much the last time I socialized with any substantial part of the old Rose's Turn (NYC piano bar, now gone) crew. Velma and Soren had already moved west; a person I'd known online since forever had come to visit NYC, new husband in tow; we made plans to all meet at Emporio, a restaurant I'd heard of, but never frequented.

I was walking up the sidewalk towards the restaurant, 90 percent sure that the couple in front of me were M and her husband... when my phone rang. Someone I'd known from online had just tried to commit suicide.A moment to decide: do I bag, and go home? Do I mention this, and impede their honeymoon? Do I grit my teeth, and get through it? I opted for choice C; it went well enough (and the person the call had been about hasrecovered, and is quite possibly reading this). ( I'd thought at the time that I was hiding it well enough; this photo makes me wonder about that- but considering that it was fairly well the last gathering of an old group (at least, with me present), perhaps not inappropriate. )

(no subject)

And this, as it turned out, was pretty much the last time I socialized with any substantial part of the old Rose's Turn (NYC piano bar, now gone) crew. Velma and Soren had already moved west; a person I'd known online since forever had come to visit NYC, new husband in tow; we made plans to all meet at Emporio, a restaurant I'd heard of, but never frequented.

I was walking up the sidewalk towards the restaurant, 90 percent sure that the couple in front of me were M and her husband... when my phone rang. Someone I'd known from online had just tried to commit suicide.A moment to decide: do I bag, and go home? Do I mention this, and impede their honeymoon? Do I grit my teeth, and get through it? I opted for choice C; it went well enough (and the person the call had been about hasrecovered, and is quite possibly reading this). ( I'd thought at the time that I was hiding it well enough; this photo makes me wonder about that- but considering that it was fairly well the last gathering of an old group (at least, with me present), perhaps not inappropriate. )