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I've actually posted a few lines of status updates but haven't posted here for several days.
To catch up.
Over the weekend I was busy. I watched more Angel, along with Miss Pettigrew Lives For a Day, a charmer with Frances McDormand, Amy Adams, Lee Pace, and Ciarán Hinds. I loved it. What can I say?
Then I watched A New Kind of Love, a real dog of a movie that seemed to be an "homage" to the Rock Hudson/Doris Day movies of 1959-1963. This one was made in 1963 with Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward--which makes it tolerable--I'll watch him in anything, and they do have chemistry. Sexism galore.
Saturday I was taken by an old friend for a wonderful lunch at an Italian restaurant on the upper east side called Girasol. It was delicious-they gave us a cold antipasto while waiting and cookies and sambuca afterward. Four of us consumed two bottles of wine (one person had beer). After, we went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to see the Robert Frank exhibit. There were a lot of proofsheets with the photos he didn't use in his monumental book The Americans. Three of the five of us had known his late daughter Andrea (she was my roommate in the early 70s and I even met Frank once when he came to visit her). In fact, I think I met my friend (and ex) John through Andrea, as they were acting--along with another in our Saturday party, Paul--in a Robert Wilson play in his Bird Hoffman days. So it was with sadness and nostalgia that we viewed some of the photos (one of Mary Frank, mother of Andrea and Pablo, in a car with the two kids on the road trip that RF made).
Then to Bay Ridge, Brooklyn for a party at which Christopher Rowe and Gwenda Bond showed up unexpectedly, when their flight was cancelled and changed to the next day.
The trip home by subway was easy but getting across town from Union Square was hell as I waiting an hour for the right bus, and finally gave up, taking a different bus and walking the last few blocks in the snow. My hair was frozen but I started defrosting on the bus. I was starting to get a cold (scratchy throat alert) so decided to stay in the next day, missing another party.
Working on Best Horror which is due like any second. Not quite done with all the xmas shopping.
My dad is gaining some of the ground he lost from the surgery (as far as language and being alert) but we don't know yet if he'll be physically able to go home from rehab. Depends on what he's able to do on his own. He's been walked up and down the hall daily, so that's good. My mother is sounding more optimistic, which is good. My sister and I are going down there again mid-late January.
Oh yeah, and yesterday I was taken to the Rolf's a German restaurant that really does it up for the Christmas season--holiday lights dangling almost to your head--old dolls embedded in the decorations, scads of what look like huge bunches of grape. Very bright, very festive and the food was excellent too.
To catch up.
Over the weekend I was busy. I watched more Angel, along with Miss Pettigrew Lives For a Day, a charmer with Frances McDormand, Amy Adams, Lee Pace, and Ciarán Hinds. I loved it. What can I say?
Then I watched A New Kind of Love, a real dog of a movie that seemed to be an "homage" to the Rock Hudson/Doris Day movies of 1959-1963. This one was made in 1963 with Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward--which makes it tolerable--I'll watch him in anything, and they do have chemistry. Sexism galore.
Saturday I was taken by an old friend for a wonderful lunch at an Italian restaurant on the upper east side called Girasol. It was delicious-they gave us a cold antipasto while waiting and cookies and sambuca afterward. Four of us consumed two bottles of wine (one person had beer). After, we went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to see the Robert Frank exhibit. There were a lot of proofsheets with the photos he didn't use in his monumental book The Americans. Three of the five of us had known his late daughter Andrea (she was my roommate in the early 70s and I even met Frank once when he came to visit her). In fact, I think I met my friend (and ex) John through Andrea, as they were acting--along with another in our Saturday party, Paul--in a Robert Wilson play in his Bird Hoffman days. So it was with sadness and nostalgia that we viewed some of the photos (one of Mary Frank, mother of Andrea and Pablo, in a car with the two kids on the road trip that RF made).
Then to Bay Ridge, Brooklyn for a party at which Christopher Rowe and Gwenda Bond showed up unexpectedly, when their flight was cancelled and changed to the next day.
The trip home by subway was easy but getting across town from Union Square was hell as I waiting an hour for the right bus, and finally gave up, taking a different bus and walking the last few blocks in the snow. My hair was frozen but I started defrosting on the bus. I was starting to get a cold (scratchy throat alert) so decided to stay in the next day, missing another party.
Working on Best Horror which is due like any second. Not quite done with all the xmas shopping.
My dad is gaining some of the ground he lost from the surgery (as far as language and being alert) but we don't know yet if he'll be physically able to go home from rehab. Depends on what he's able to do on his own. He's been walked up and down the hall daily, so that's good. My mother is sounding more optimistic, which is good. My sister and I are going down there again mid-late January.
Oh yeah, and yesterday I was taken to the Rolf's a German restaurant that really does it up for the Christmas season--holiday lights dangling almost to your head--old dolls embedded in the decorations, scads of what look like huge bunches of grape. Very bright, very festive and the food was excellent too.
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