2002-02-21 - 10:01 a.m.

Last night I went to dinner at P@ris C0mmune with my friend Liz. I haven't seen her in ages, but we worked together for years, and it was fun to see her - we were always friendly, but never really became close because of some differences of outlook. When I knew her, she used to keep a three-ring binder, with tabbed dividers, of clothes and accessories she saw in magazines and ripped out. She had it divided by section : shoes, bags, pants, dresses, formal. And she'd sit there, turning pages and making notes, punching numbers into a calculator and then going out on a recon price-comparison shopping trip. The girl was SERIOUS. We used to room together in LA on business trips, where every morning she'd take long baths in the luxurious marble bathtub, and have me bring her in the room service coffee, because her teeny studio apartment didn't have a bathtub. She'd never leave the house with makeup and her hair done, even to go to the gym. Obviously, I understand none of this. She always laughed about the face I'd make when she'd be calculating her seasonal shopping, for God's sakes, and I was in the room. She cared too much about clothes, and labels, and her looks, for us to be really close. But we had a fun, elementary school kind of friendship - we saved seats for each other, and told each other jokes, and shared lunch, and occasionally held hands. We roomed together on business trips, and she talks in these silly voices that have me rolling on the floor. So it was great to see her again, and I think September 11th really changed her. She lives in B@ttery Park City, and it seems her values have changed, for the better. (well, in my humble opinion.)

And she also helped clarify my decision on the apartment thing. We were walking through the residential West Village streets to the restaurant, and we passed her old apartment. When I was married, she lived in a teeny studio on Perry Street, a little shoebox. She finally moved to Gramercy to get more space, and she told me she absolutely hated it. She only stayed there for about 8 months, and then moved downtown. And walking down Jane Street, I was thinking that THIS is where I want to live. So I decided to stay, and the boyfriend and I will look for a place whenever I can get the courage up to start.

So he came over last night when I got home, and I told him that I didn't think we should take P's apartment, even though it's a great place and a great deal. And he said he agreed, he thinks we'd be happier in my neighborhood. Here's the rest of that conversation:

Me: So when do you want to look?

Him: Whenever you want, baby. I'll move in with you tomorrow.

Me: Really?

Him: Definitely. It'll be great.

Me:(silence for a minute, furrowed brow) Well, don't rush me.

Him: Oh, no, wouldn't want to pressure you, God knows.

I love that guy, really I do.

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last five entries:
done - 2005-09-16
playgroup, my ass - 2005-09-15
late, but heartfelt - 2005-09-13
she lives - 2005-08-18
cheese me - 2005-05-20

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