2001-06-13 - 12:10 p.m.

But maybe she feels like she does everything right, and that I'm the one with the problem. That being friends with me is too much for her, just as it's too much for me. The difference is that I've always placated her. After all, I was the one who had, and she was the one who hadn't. And so I put up with it, for years. Until the summer of 99, when she got drunk at a party and flipped out on me. And I took it, too. Let her scream and yell and be irrational, while I followed after her, picking up her shoes and bag because she was too drunk to hold anything. Yelled at her to stop wandering around in the middle of the night and get in the car. And then, finally, after she threw her remaining shoe at me, I said FUCK THIS. I caught a cab and left her, drunk and ranting, on the street. The next morning she called at 7:30 am, crying and apologizing and asking me to pick her up to go to breakfast. And we talked. And I thought we had a breakthrough. But maybe not. Anyway, I got her number and her email address, and left her messages on both. We'll see what happens.

And in other news, apparently a girl was attacked on my street last night. On the block off 5th Avenue, the nicest block of the street. The block I walked down, last night, at 11:15 pm. Alone. I felt safe, secure. But this morning I heard that a man followed a girl to her building, pushed his way into the vestibule, and robbed her. Attempted to rape her, but she screamed and kicked and the other tenants came downstairs and the guy took off. But they didn't catch him. My mother called me this morning, "please, please be careful..." And I will. Ugly reality. Maybe if those cops weren't so busy arresting people for drinking in public they'd be able to catch ACTUAL criminals.

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