What One Girl Knows

Sad goodbyes at the Beer Garden. Yesterday we went to the Strand one last time, as well as some of our favorite things in the Union Square/Astor Place area. No St. Mark's Bookstore though -- too much temptation there.

Tomorrow our Pittsburgh adventure begins. We remain apprehensive and sometimes, vaguely optimistic.

Home at Astoria, at last. It feels weird to be back -- as if New York City has become expontentially larger and brighter than it was three weeks ago.

Itching from at least a dozen spider bites (shudder). On our last night in Dunkirk, Jason and I armed ourselves with brooms and cans of Raid, went outside, and killed spiders with bodies the size of half-dollars. It was raining, but dozens of spiders were there anyway, their fat little translucent bodies obscene in the street light. The next day, exterminators were supposed to finish the job, but Audrey thinks they were slacking. She's only seen one spider so far today, but the baby spiders climbing the walls and ceilings and bed sheets are tiny and translucent and difficult to see, and she doesn't have the greatest eyesight. So no idea if progress has been made.

Our overnight sojourn in New Jersey was okay. Lots of HGTV. A bed without spiders was a plus. Victoria the three year old was the most entertaining and interesting. She believes in biting the skin of her arm (vigorously) to keep her balance, and said, "Look. Me and the dog got haircuts!"

One of Jason's oldest friends is acting like a prick. Not letting us know if he wanted us to come down to visit him in Atlanta, and then pouting because we didn't. Sending Jason cryptic letters about "true" artists and how Jason and his "friends" (whoever that means. Probably me) weren't "true" because they don't feel enough or some such shit. Jason thinks it's because we all got degrees in Creative Writing, so said friend doesn't think we're authentic artists. We're too educated or something. Prima donna nonsense, but he's been Jason's surrogate father figure for years, and J's getting upset.

Today is Jason's birthday. As of 23 minutes ago. But he's asleep. Everyone's asleep. In Cold Blood is too weird to read at night in a sleeping house, but I'm reading it anyway. And watching what appears to be a porn, disguised in a detective movie. I should have known immediately, just by the bad acting. Then all the women kept taking their clothes off. Jason's mom has ALL the cable channels, but there's never anything to watch on TV. The porn is kinda amusing, though. One of the woman says, "What is it about dirty money?" and then proceeds to take off all her clothes. </>

The cookout to celebrate J's birthday tonight was alright. We spent two hours picking Gladys up from Chautaqua Institute and then later bringing her home. Near the end of the evening, she yelled at me for introducing her to someone as Gladys, instead of Ms. Schwartz. I was offended, until Jason says she yells at him all the time for doing it. Aaron and Deidre brought the baby, and Moriah kept dashing out of the house and running around the neighborhood. Jason fell backwards over a hedge, while trying to collar her. His shoes were at a ninety degree angle. We both agree that that was the high point of the night. There were bees nuzzling the hamburgers and Jason's mom's cousin brought a weird chow mein noodle salad dish. All I wanted to do was read and finish an umpteenth winter hat, but that's nothing new.

Reading In Cold Blood and waiting for Jason to come back from the barber's shop. Will he have chopped off all his hair, like he said he would? Before he left he looked like he belonged in the world of CHIPS. Puffy, puffy hair. It's been a trip for haircuts -- I don't know if I mentioned it before, but I got all my hair chopped off in Kentucky. There's an inch left all around. If I'm not careful it poufs up too, and I look very much like my mother. Luckily there's enough hair gel in the world to keep that from happening.

Had dinner with Irv last night at the local Pizza Hut. There were half a dozen state troopers at the table next to us, eating enormous amounts of pizza (well, shoveling is a better term for it than eating) and clutching two liters of Pepsi. It was kinda obscene. Irv kept on threatening to say "fuck the police" and made numerous winks in their direction, accompanied by sopranoish renditions of church songs. He is one obscene minister.

When Jason gets back, we're to go to Niagara Falls -- the Canadian side. Then to Buffalo for used bookstores and Aaron's gig at a local bar. But right now it's me and the bear dog, and Jason's mom sleeping.

Anxiety about the new place. We were so deliriously happy that our credit checks came out all right, we forgot to ask for a receipt. We called yesterday, but so far no one's called us back. Supposedly our lease is being sent to us in Astoria. I'm usually so cautious about everything -- how could this have slipped my mind? Have we been tricked? I keep on having morbid fantasies about the realtor office turning out to be a scam, and us having no apartment to go to in August. All our things in storage, living on our mothers' couches, despair despair.

Also more general anxiety about moving. What doesn't the houses and apartments in Pittsburgh have bars on their windows? I'm starting to think that all residences should bar their windows. And where, where, where are all the people? The streets are virtually deserted. Even that crazy baseball hoopla produced only piddling amounts of tourists on the streets downtown. Nina keeps telling us that Pittsburgh isn't New York, and it's crazy to compare the two, but I find myself doing that, constantly.

We have a new apartment! It's a two bedroom in Squirrel Hill, Pittsburgh, complete with a garage and Tudor style doorways. And it's 40% less than what we pay for our little studio in New York City.

Of course, the drawback of that is that it's not in New York. Jason and I already miss the city we used to enjoy bitching about ... those cavernous subways and sewage-smelling sidewalks ... Once we get back from Dunkirk (where we are right now), we'll only have ten days left to eat all the food we possibly can, visit all our favorite bookstores, see all our friends, and pack. Crazy to think about.

Lexington doesn't have much in the way of art and culture, but we did manage to see Murder by Death perform at a local CD store (my own stomping ground -- where I used to buy all my indie music).

My mom has been sick since Thursday, so the rest of the day has been spent either at home, or running to the grocery store for flu medicine and salty stick pretzels.

It's good to hang out with my family.