manhattan should go ahead and get pretty again; heather champ's san francisco photos are breaking my heart. a pesky case of nostalgia that first cropped up a few weeks ago came to a head today in a package from my father; pending a quick trip to a notary public, i won't be associated with the old russian hill apartment any more. i hated fighting over that place with my satanic uncle, and i love running into friends on the street in new york...but getting the legal documents makes the breakup twinge one last time.
on a more positive note, jen of chicago will be joining us in our microscopic hell's kitchen apartment this weekend. she'll be the first of the college roommates to visit since i sold my soul to The Corporation - i'm reasoning that maybe if i don't clean the apartment, she won't think i've turned into a yuppie. there are other indicators, but that's the one that gets me out of a date with the toilet brush.
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