how cold was it in times square last night? so cold that the pay phones ran away. joe and i got into a fight about whether or not i needed to wear a bigger coat - for the first half of the evening i was just fine, and i found it unreasonable that i should have extra clothing just so that he wouldn't worry. for the second half, when george and i were trying to get a cab and the wind was forcing us to make garry shandling faces, he was out of gloating range.
clothing for dogs: on the west coast, generally considered a cruelty. dachsunds in sweaters were passable, for dachsunds are unbearably cute on all occasions, but my co-worker at the SPCA who insisted on making her chihuahua wear a leopard print cowboy hat - unconscionable. out here, by contrast, people who drag their naked yorkies through the snow are just mean. if i could knit, i'd be handing out little ponchos on the corner. and severe beatings.
black ice: when newscasters first started talking about it, i thought gatorade. i still think gatorade, even when i see it on the sidewalk, but i also think of losing my innocence to a big slippery patch outside the apartment last week. i now have a bruise once described as 'the moonrise on a faraway planet.'
the mysterious, ghostbusters-lookin' office building across the street: apparently the headquarters for universal music. the security guards took pity when our building was on fire and smuggled us into the lobby, where joe solved the mystery. i'd been wondering why huge expensive SUVs had been beaching themselves on the sidewalk out front - the previous theory involved the all-you-can-eat meat restaurant next door, which may still have a role.
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