Musings 

I had a good weekend. I don't want to labor over it, so here are the highlights:

Friday evening: Dinner with Meredith and the girls, for Meredith's 22nd birthday at Arte Cafe. I ordered a salad, thinking it would be enough, and promptly scraped Sarita's plate clean. Annie told me my blog is depressing her. I'm stumped for words. Sorry Annie, but credit the source. This is me after all. The moon was melancholy when I was born.

Drinks at 420. Is there anything to say? I enjoyed a weak gimlet, itched to slap about four people, and screamed things like "so, what was your major?" and "mm, doesn't everyone like pine nuts?" in order to make small-talk.

Saturday: Bagel with Abby. Visit to the MET to see Matisse/Textiles exhibition.

Pottered around Lexington, told weird man who owned Moroccan pottery shop that I was married to a Frenchman (despite obvious lack of shiny ring), he congratulated me on my beauty, and said "I hope you two are enjoying each other," in a really sexual way, in French. Bizarre. I suppose I should apply that to myself as well, since it was pretty clear from the get-go (which was when he ended a conversation on the phone regarding the hiring process for bellydancers and said "hello gorgeous, who are you?") that we were both committed and consistent liars. The thing that I've discovered is, in order to really enjoy yourself, you have to appreciate other people's embroidery as much as your own.