>Notes from the Weekend

>–Fish Bar is not a great place, despite what the Internet (and certain friends) may tell you. Or perhaps, I was there too early on a strange not-very-bar-going night for New Yorkers. But, either way, no thanks.

–My friends Michael & Calvin, who have just begun the adoption process, are some of my most favorite people. If I won Golden Globe, I would thank them. They are like dads waiting to happen. They are already dads.

–I feel entirely at home in a roomful of lesbians. (Not so surprisingly, perhaps.) The intense processing, the huge salads, the impetus to tell all your deepest darkest fears. The cupcakes.

–Two years ago this week I was mugged/attacked/thugged-up by a kid who (maybe) didn’t know what he was getting himself into. I’m a bigger guy than I look, perhaps. Or something. It’s complicated. Even now I flinch sometimes when, at night, someone is walking too close behind me. I still think about how I hurt him. About how surprising that was–to both of us.

–The fish tacos at Miracle Grill are always as good as I remember them.

–One of my cats, The Bad Thing, has taken to having to sit in my lap while I am sitting at the computer. This makes writing somewhat difficult: the sad eyes, the chirping meows. The claws which so easily reach through my pajama bottoms into my thigh.

–It was the coldest it has been in NYC in the last three months–17 degrees, 22 degrees at times. 26 as I write this. Ironically, there was so much warmth in my life, that I hardly noticed it.



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