The seagulls and the pigeons can be brought together. They were scavenging through someone's leftover bag of McDonalds at the end of my block and normally, I don't see them together, but everyone gets hungry, I guess.

I went to La Bonita this morning, this afternoon because I woke up quite a little hungover and had no coffee in the house, so went there to get some, and once there picked up a slice of carrot cake also, but the coffee - I asked for a large. We are out of large. It took a while for that to process, what that could possibly mean, and then I understood that I was not going to get a large coffee and then thought to whether I should get one regular coffee, or if I should make it two, if that would in effect, be ordering a large. I ended up getting one and am drinking it, it tasting less pleasant with the aftertaste of the frosting from that carrot cake still in my mouth.

Yesterday, I was in a bit of funk earlier in the day, but how quickly that mood changed, and how quickly they always do - that they are the most fragile things and so easily shifted, these moods, essentially my days, my life is by random sights, things I pass on the street holding the potential to shake me, snap me out of it, and let me see that there is so much going on here in this world and that I can dance if I want to. Walking to work, having got there early and so just circling blocks in SoHo until three, I was across the street from this woman who was a real live version of an iPod commercial. She seemed non crazy looking, looked like she could be a richer version of my mom, and there she was in the middle of the street with her white headphones on and dancing like a maniac without a care in the world at three o'clock in the afternoon. It was totally mesmerizing and everyone that walked by, smiled and pointed and she really seemed not to notice, to be performing for anyone - that she was just hearing a really good song and could not help herself. And this, this little sight changed everything, gave me some inspiration, that I just need to put on some tunes I like, and dance it out of my system, that there is so much joy to be had in this world, and of course, you forget this when you are not in motion, when you are sitting in your apartment doing nothing, because so much of this world's joy is to be found when we are moving these limbs in one or way or another, shaking it.

I went to Fun last night and met up with David and Joe who after showing up late and making me wait forever, bored on a couch in the back of the bar for so long, then they decided to leave so soon for Metropolitan right when I was starting to enjoy myself. I, of course, refused to go, knowing that that place is never as exciting as you hope it will be, and certainly no place to go to if you are having fun and hoping to have more of it. I ran into Christina, talked to her, and ended up leaving the bar with her to go to Matthew's party in Greenpoint where I drank whiskey for the first time since that night of Exorcist vomiting and did not lose my mind, did not stick a crucifix in my coochie. I did, however, run into a girl I used to work with at the Strand. I saw her across the room, and asked myself if that was her, was starting to have doubts and was nervous about approaching her, being drunk, and it being dim, and me being somewhat doubtful about my recognition capabilities under these circumstances. Her name is Erica. Now, I remember that. Just now. All night I was trying to remember it. Anyways, I did go say hi to her and it was her and we talked for a decent amount of time, somewhat nostalgically about the Strand, and I remember hiding in the fiction section with her and talking about gallery shows we loved all day long. That job was amazing.

Soon after, everyone headed to Fun for the first time, and I did so for the second time, walking all over this borough of Brooklyn and loving the cold air and listening to people talk into it. And my body was in motion, and obviously, I felt good, and I imagined my body in motion throughout the night talking to various people. As static I was in those situations talking to cute boys, there was the hoped for, the imagined flailing of limbs.