Sunday

Today is Sunday.

I woke up around 11am with Joe.

Last night I went out for beer on St. Mark's with Luke and Maggie at a place called Je Bon. I had a shrimp tempura roll and we split 2 pitchers of Sapporo. I felt drunk. Walked to the Showpaper benefit at 92Y on Hudson. Max and some girl and Sean and Ariel and Jon Flores and Nicos and Bonnie and Jane were there.

This morning, the cat was running intently back and forth across the length of the apartment chasing plastic and his own poop. My roommate is away for the weekend so I walked more freely than usual around the apartment. I fed Shoog. I ate some quinoa. We didn't have any coffee so we made black tea. Thought about how the cheap weird teapot that I bought could be killing us with it's plastic handle. Joe made artichoke and garlic sausage with some eggs and gorgonzola on top. We ate off one plate. We went back into my bedroom and laid on the floor in the sun like cats. It was warm.

Took a shower, packed my computer and my toothbrush for my parents house. I have to go to the dentist tomorrow in Pennsylvania. Took a car to work, stopped for coffee on Vernon. Total $14 including a large coffee with soy.

When I turned off the alarm at Deitch, I could see a blurry rectangle of heat radiating from the top of the middle unit (1 of 3). Opened the street side garage doors first and then the waterside ones. I was nervous the locks would be frozen but they weren't. A lot of people have come into the gallery so far today. It's 5:30.

Linda Yablonsky came and talked on the phone really loudly for a while. She didn't look at anything and left after taking a few photos of the skyline.

A group of French people came in- a little girl and an old man among them.

A rabbi who had just married someone across the street came. He said the paintings were wonderfully apocolyptic. I told him they were made the year I was born.