of course, there WERE trips into the city for movies and dinners and chats and such, but most of the weekend was spent kickinK it in park slope with this lovely young chap and a cast of characters whose description here would only pale in comparison to their real-life fabulosity. even being obscenely, ridiculously broke didn't put a crimp in our stylee. the weekend was a hoot. in fact, if you looked up "having a hoot" in the dictionary of modern slang, there would be me with a silly grin on my face.

the older i get, the more i appreciate the joy of the little things. this trip was not about grand gestures or big plans. it was about introduction and re-connection; about moments and minutiae; about sights and sounds and smells; about exploration and invention; about the genius and the ingenious. there is no ONE story that begs to be told as proof of a good time had by all. just three days. but three days pregnant with palimpsest, proclivity and promise.

and so, i'm scribbling down bits and pieces, so as to jog my memory later. park slope chip shop. granitas. quiche. joe's pizza. f train to coney island. the excelsior. sticky. powerpuff girls movie. scurvy. washington square. union square. times square. chat 'n' chew. toblerone bittersweet. permanent lipstick. playground of the americas. the "romance". power-c vitamin water. stuff. soft-serve ice cream. brunch featuring bottomless mimosas. of course you do. ccccccHOT. orange chicken near-miss. first rule of fight club. lilt. garbage. glitter. nathan's cheese dog. massage therapy. rock-climbing hasids. sunday night sex show. fifth avenue. grey dog cafe. five-on-one neighborhood smackdown. buffy feenahlay. subway harassment. harry chapin. naps. best friends. new friends. 80's muffins. The Building. seahorses. guitars. candid shots. atlantic shores.

for now, i must leave you hanging with these thumbnail sketches of my weekending adventures. but no worries, further explication is forthcoming. i understand your incredulity as i have been quite remiss as regards updates here. every now and again, that line between what is public and what is private expands or contracts. suffice it to say that after an extended period of expansion, that line is returning to its natural state of permeability and with it my usual logorrhea.