Tom & Alissa

I chuckled at Josh’s description of my mad editorial skillz when I saw it last night. I didn’t think I was that brutal, but on the other hand, man, you asked for it. Anyone else want to have their book torn to pieces? I am especially good at lambasting excessive use of the infinitive.

I went to the dentist on Friday; no cavities and my gums are healthy (which I feared), but I will need to have my wisdom teeth out. Only on top, as I have no bottom wisdom teeth and probably never will. Also, either dental technology has gotten very good lately, or Albany is way behind the times; the hygienist took X-rays that were sent directly to the computer. I feel it is hickish of me to be as impressed as I am.

I took some work calls and headed northward to the Cloisters - the photos are now labeled and tagged - and spent most of the remaining sunlight there. Came back down to the Village and met Tom on set to go to dinner at what I thought was the Spotted Pig but turned out to be the Little Owl. Pricey, but oh so tasty.

Tom worked through the weekend and I spent Saturday mostly at home, editing photos, cleaning, trying to stay cool, then headed out to the Bowery Poetry Club to shoot the first installment of the Zoae Series which was fabulous and drew an audience of nearly one hundred. Pictures will probably show up on the Zoae site soon (as in, when I finish editing them).

After church on Sunday, I had lunch with Annie and Carey, then went to Joe to work on a feature I’m writing and struggling with.

People talk to me randomly much more when I’m alone; at Joe, several people just struck up conversations, including one of the baristas who was pretty sure he knew me from someplace I work (not bloody likely), Chicago (I’ve been there twice, see previous comment), or maybe Portland (a place I’d like to visit, but haven’t). Another guy wanted to know what camera I use. People at the Cloisters kept coming up to me and asking me random questions. I think I’m not imposing, maybe.

Anyhow, on Monday morning we had brunch at our favorite finer diner in Park Slope, then stopped into Barnes & Noble on the way home, which was a mistake. We bought three books and came home and ordered eight more, but some are necessary and the rest should keep us busy through the summer. And last night Tom shot portraits of friends with a new baby in Prospect Park and we had dinner with them and watched a very old and very slapsticky Woody Allen movie.

I finished All the Pretty Horses on the way to work today. Oh, wow. I have much respect for this Cormac McCarthy fellow.

There’s a lot going on that I can’t even keep track of; this is one of those times when life swirls about my ears and I can only really watch helplessly and keep my fingers crossed.