2003-04-24 - 11:58 p.m.

It actually got a little warmer out tonight, and I had my sales dinner at S0n Cub@n0 in the meatpacking district, and we stood outside to smoke (rat bastard Bl00mberg) and it was almost nice. The sky was purple over the Hudson, and you could actually see stars. And that neighborhood, now, is cleaned up and busy, the sidewalks brightly lit and overflowing with outdoor tables.

Still working like crazy, but my friends, I have got my groove on at work. I have built this business from nothing, it's my baby, and they're giving me ownership, and I haven't learned this much at a job in years. And I like it like this, when I'm crazed and on a roll during the day, and they just LET ME DO IT. And I'm feeling really good about it, strong and confident. It's been a long time since I felt that way, I realize.

And last night I saw Chris R0ck at a comedy club, as a special guest, working out some new material, so that was cool. And our friends were in from Boston, so we had dinner with them and then went. We went to the Upper West Side, where I never ever go, and T tried to talk me into looking for an apartment to buy up there, telling me I'll get space and maybe a yard, and look, it's so quiet and beautiful, the scrolled gates and the impressive stoops. I don't know. I could probably do it, but I can't see the boyfriend up there. Although I did pass the F@irway, which Rain talks about, and oh my lawd. Piles, PYRAMIDS, of apples and oranges out front, and I had to rub my eyes to see if the sign actually said $.99. I might have to make a trip up there. They replaced B@lducci's with Cit@re11a, and I for one am horrified. It is horrible there, antiseptic and warehouse looking, with no good smells and no rough wooden bushels of brussels sprouts on the stalk. And INSANELY expensive. They sell flour, regular flour, in little foil envelopes with clear fronts, 8 or 12 oz or something, for $1.99. Are you fucking kidding me? Don't these people know that you can get 5 lbs of flour for less than that in the supermarket? I'm boycotting.

~ if you haven't already noticed, scroll back up and scan this entry. I talk about the weather,real estate, and the price of groceries. I'm your grandma.~

Anyhow, something weird happened today. When I was coming up the steps in the subway station, I saw a couple walking down the next staircase, and as we met on the landing the man caught his foot on the bottom step and stumbled. He was maybe in his early sixties, a little heavy, white-haired, wearing a flannel shirt and jeans, and I thought he might chuckle a little about it, but instead he went ballistic. Red faced, yelling, "FUCK! SHIT! GODDAMN FUCKING THING" and I was taken aback, and then suddenly a whole life for him flashed into my head. I saw him forced into early retirement, feeling useless and as if he's lost his very identity, while his wife, as most woman her age do, had developed her own little life for herself, after the kids are gone and he's at work. Scrapbooking, or dinner with her girlfriends, or volunteer work or something. And he feels useless, powerless, unable to express it, and so he's filled with rage.

All that flashed before me in a rush, in a minute, I don't know why. Cree-pay.

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