i heart new york 1
2008-01-31 10:43 p.m.

in new york for the writer's conference. staying in a subletted apartment on the upper west side owned by a rich person with very poor new age taste.

chocolate babka.

my predictive text seems to be failing. why, today it suggested "b" instead of "a" as in "can you give me b rough estimate?" or "i'll be there in b minute." later it suggested "shitfa" instead of "shit" which is closer, i admit, but still puzzling.

yeah everyone on the subway judges me, so what? i got a bag full of zabar's food and i don't give a shit what you or your mother think of me and my chocolate babka. or my dirty coat. go and buy a fake purse you fuckwads. ahh new york.

what else? tomorrow we are attending a conference panel on sex. that is, how to write about it. ahhh did i mention i'm on the panel? no i'm not.

i could be.

we were talking bout dicks and i thought of yours!

case in point.

claire is going to bed now so i must stop my rickety typing. i must take my place under the large, possibly inauthentic, indian headdress on the wall, and i must dream of apache dances and black & white cookies and lardon--what is lardon?