Jeff is in Boston today, because he has to attend his aunt's funeral. So I am temporarily single. These were my Manhattan plans:
Get a Temptu at Pier 17.
Go see Stuart Little 2 (Nathan Lane IS the Lord!) at the big old Battery Park City Cinema, which was closed for months because of the troubles.
Check out the Potato Famine Memorial, and think about my great grandmother.
Then, I heard about the big power outage in Lower Manhattan. News people taking pains to say, eight different ways, it's JUST a power outage. Still, not a good day to be rambling around the lower part of my beloved homeland.
These are my revised New Jersey plans.
Buy novena candles with bitchin' pictures of the Virgin Mary on the side.
Watch Six Feet Under because Jeff can't deal with the bodies. (Which never bothered him re: The Sopranos.)
That is all.
Well, not completely. I have a whole rant on Malcolm Gladwell's article in the New Yorker re: Enron corporate culture and how, though I regret the chaos and fear Enron's demise has caused, I sincerely hope hope hope this means that I will never meet another "Technology Evangelist" again. But I will rant tomorrow.
Also, I have a crush on the hosts of "On The Media."
Back to the novel. And the book proposal. And repotting begonias. There's a lot to be done before Nate and company appear. And God Bless You Franny Conroy in An Atheist Sort of Way, I have been rooting for you for years.
posted by Martha @ 7:52 PM
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