2001-11-07 - 5:29 p.m.

Before you get any ideas, it's not like I'm peeping in people's bedrooms. But I always, always, look in windows if there are no curtains. And here in the city, I am enthralled by the idea of a life, framed by a window. In big buildings, full of hundreds of people, I find it fascinating to see someone's space, to get a little glimpse of the things they surround themselves with, the spaces they create. I've become a bit of a voyeur out my kitchen window lately, as well. I hung these glass lanterns from chains in front of my kitchen window, and now keep the blinds up to accentuate them. What this means is that whenever I am standing in front of the sink, I have a clear view into the apartment across the street. The first time I noticed this, there was a guy in front of his own kitchen window, singing and dancing to the music (I imagine) he's playing, and taking the occasional hit off a joint burning in an ashtray on the counter. This is the kind of ordinary thing that makes me ridiculously happy. I wonder if I can turn that into some kind of paying job. Heh.

I also have been watching the young crackwhores in action. The other night I watched one, baseball hat pulled low, standing against the wall of the bar, next to an old man. He was gesturing, and tugging on his pants, and I was DYING to know what was going to happen, but the transaction appeared to be stalled. Then I realized that all the lights in my apartment were on, and the blinds up, so they could see me too. Heh. There goes my dream of being a spy.

Anyway, I got to drool over some crown moldings, covet some built in bookcases, and fantasize about buying the townhouse that was for sale on the corner. (Quite the fantasy - asking price is 2.2 million) And I went to my very favorite theatre and bought tickets for Havana Is W@iting, which I've been wanting to see. Jay finally showed up, and we had an amazing dinner, at which I tasted bratwurst for the first time in my life. And the last, because nasty old grey sausage just doesn't do it for me. We talked about his new marriage, and new step-daughter, and I managed to spill half a glass of red wine on him, which I do every single time we go to dinner. There must be some subliminal shit going on there, it can't possibly be coincidence. It's a wonder he even goes out with me anymore.

Ok, I'm going to get out of here and go catch a movie and maybe a cheeseburger. Oh, and in case you're wondering who I voted for - Kenny Kr@mer. That's right, the original Kr@mer from Seinfeld. Think I'm kidding, don't you?

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