Birthday Kiss

Pam, you gave one of the most beautiful birthday speeches I've ever heard. I enjoyed reminiscing about the night we first met each other. Not only did you look like a grown-up version of one of those Precious Moments dolls with your huge brown eyes -- you had, and still have, an aura of uncommon compassion. The fact that we both lost our mothers when we were young helped form a fast bond between us. But I swear, even if our moms were alive and healthy today, I would still dig you.

You have uncommon acumen about others, voracious curiosity, and the bravery to articulate even your most private thoughts. You're a thoroughbred writer.

You always let your love flow so freely. It's as if you were off playing hopscotch the day they passed out the guard you're supposed to keep up. I treasure the pretty smudge you made when you kissed me goodnight.

Happy birthday, darling!



Today is the third anniversary of Ben's death.

I thought you might enjoy one of his panoramas. He was a spectacular photographer; you can see more of his work here.


Red Meat, Red Wine, and French Fries


One leg on wagon . . . .

Back on the Wagon

Under the auspice of recovering from violent illness, I let myself eat whatever I want.

I've had bread and cheese for three meals straight, with intermittent bananas and cookies.

It was a fear of fiber, really. Even the thought of edamame made me shudder.

But enough already. Back to normal, starting tomorrow!



I started puking my guts out on Thursday morning at 3am. I'm only starting to feel normal today.

It's interesting when you feel so nauseated, you have to turn away from the food commercials on TV. And there are plenty of commercials. Deep fried pizza! Shrimp in mayonnaise sauce! O my god.

It's also interesting what you start to crave when you bounce back from illness. Usually for me it's chicken nuggets, but this time it was oatmeal cookies.

I made healthy oatmeal cookies. Yum.

Oh! And the newest member of the household, furniture category: the fabled tulip table, as conceptualized by Ikea and obtained secondhand in Bay Ridge. So lovely. So very lovely.

The old table is on its side in the living room. Before moving it, I sat on it one last time. It is a good, sturdy table, kind of an '80s country-kitchen style, butcher block with white molded legs. My dad took me to Macy's on Long Island and I bought it for my first apartment thirteen years ago. I learned to play guitar sitting on that kitchen table! For a few years it was in custody of a friend, and during that time one of the chairs was broken in a household incident. I had sex on the table only once, but it was a good one.

Bye-bye, table. You've been a good table.



After years of couch stalking in stores all over NYC, couch-porn surfing on the internets, and couch daydreaming at all hours, The couch of my dreams finally has arrived!

This time yesterday, I was despairing - they couldn't fit it in the elevator. The couch had to be taken away. And that made me very sad. So today I hired my own guys to bring it up the stairs! And now it's here! YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Me on couch!

Happy feet!

Happy room!

Here comes Dottie!

There goes Dottie!


Cat kisses!

Cats, cats!

More Dottie love!


And visitors, do not worry -- it's deep enough to sleep one comfortably, and we also have an inflatable full-size mattress. So come on down!!!!