pikmeup

this week, a friend of mine told me that she is pregnant. this is a friend with whom i associate all the exquisite vices in life (wine, cigarettes, terrible karaoke), so naturally, when she told me, i was shocked. "what of the cigarettes?! and the wine?! and the ruthless karaoke?!", i thought, hideously. but she is happy for this, and she and her husband are kind, wise people who will undoubtably make a strong family, so i was happy as well. then tonight, i had a glass of wine while watching a terrible made for tv movie about parents whose child goes missing (but then they find him) and the parents were going so bonkers and flipping out in every scene, and i thought, based on that, that it must be a nice thing, having a kid like that. i thought that maybe its worth all the chardonnay in the world, to have a kid like that. i am happy for my friend.

and then tonight, before the glass of wine, i went out to cafe pick me up. i went because i couldnt seem to stop watching this abomidable show (i have a problem with this- i shouldnt own a television) called "so you think you can dance" (i, by the way, think i can dance, but only in the privacy of my own home), and i was becoming disgusted with myself. plus, i wanted to read this book that im trying to finish before we go away, the secret history, by donna tartt. i didnt really want to go at first, but i forced myself and im glad i did. it was good to sit there with a cup of coffee and a negro modelo, trying to read but really just eavesdropping on other peoples conversations and i kept wondering if i could do this in SA. listen to other people's conversations that is. i assume they will not typically be in english, and will my spanish ever be good enough?? it remains to be seen, i guess.

good night, pals and gals.

june

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i say, good day. on thursday we went to see flamenco (which anthony's mother heard as flamingos, which led to interpertations on the differences between the two, which led to discussion of flamingos doing flamenco, which is perhaps the grandest and greatest idea in the world). it was at this spanish bar across the street that serves tapas and stuff. so we got a bottle of rioja and some anchovy stuffed olives (which, to be honest, tasted bad, but i wanted to be sophisticated and spanish enough to enjoy them. alas.) and sat and watched the dancers, as the humidity raged one hell of a storm outside. during intermission we watched through the window as people struggled with their broken umbrellas and to get cabs in heels and ties. we sipped our wine and enjoyed the flamingo and i kept thinking about how much i loved the music and gestures, and how happy it made me. and then i thought: i have aficion for flamenco. montoya (you know montoya?) would like me, if there was a flamenco festival and i stayed in his hotel. and i felt very satisfied with myself, of course.

there were two dancers. one was sleek and pretty with hoop earings and a bun. the other had an ugly face, to be quite blunt, with a nose and a blue dress. they sat for a while as the singer warmed up and practiced their clapping. but when they started dancing, the one in the blue dress was graceful and gorgeous and flowing. hoop earings was too, but it wasnt the same. not as effortless. trust me, i could tell. an aficion can always tell. which led me to the realization that depite her nose, blue dress was also an aficion, and if i or montoya had a signed photo of her,we would most certainly never throw it away. and her nose meant nothing, and her blue dress didnt matter for shit. it was splendid.

then, last night, against the pounding rain, i found a cab myself. again the thunder was kicking up and lightening struck here and there and i was going to a bar on the west side of town, for no good reason, except to brave the weather and show it who runs the show around here, i guess. and when the cab had stopped for me i had been relieved because i was well on my way to getting drenched, even under my umbrella. so i was still feeling that relief as we barelled west across ninth street and the rain came down in rivulets on the window, and we listened to free bird really really loud. and i sunk deeper into my cozy seat and thought, lynard skynard isnt so bad, sometimes.