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1995 continued

7/7/95: Last one 21 days ago! And now I'm REALLY ready: did the two indexes I had on tap (with four more coming in this month yet to do), DID manage to get Netscape working with GREAT productivity and signing onto Britannica Online as a beta-tester!, and actually exhausted Two Bridges Video with CURRENT films, though I still have to look at Marty's basement male porno collection. And used Audience Extras to fill up my vacant week Wednesday with the awful Tryzub Ukrainian Dance Ensemble from Calgary at Town Hall, preceded by a loud awful dinner at Jimmy's Neutral Corner, Thursday treating Bernice not only to the $3 Play's the Thing (by Molnar, from 1926, which I'd seen before at BAM in 1978, about which I remembered nothing), but to a $75 dinner at Bryant Park Grill, nice but not THAT nice with her $25 rack of delicious lamb and my $15 pork tenderloins with great vegetables, including braised radishes, and a lovely white zinfandel for $19, and a $20 dessert at Broadway Grill, with not all THAT much hot fudge on her profiteroles or my brownie sundae. And tonight, Friday, with Grease, which I did NOT see before, and even Pope confused it with Bye Bye Birdie, and Saturday matinee with Indiscretions, and Dennis wants to join me whenever I try to see Ralph Fiennes' Hamlet. Frustrated by not being able to GET to MAS the last three days, and maybe I'll try this AFTERNOON, though there's the sound of thunder in the rainstorm, and BEGINNING to get bored with random paths through Internet, now that I know HOW to get to a specific address, learned just the night before last. Updated my VCR-see tape-list and my restaurant-list, prepared to do my VCR-watched/recorded tape-list, and ready to start going OUT to see the summer things in New York while they're still THERE. Even to TWO days in Great Adventure scheduled for next week, but maybe one (or both?) will be circumvented by rain. AND haven't been CHARGED yet for the 20+ hours this month on Internet by Intercom---have I slipped through the cracks, are they giving me a gift, is it NOT billed to my account through Netscape and I'll be paying for it on some bill of my OWN? And trying (and canceling) ever greater numbers of Internet magazines and newsletters, just to see what they ARE. And no THOUGHT of getting to writing plays (now that we're not meeting for the rest of the summer), or re-editing the African tapes (now that my RCA "remote" isn't working properly). Got to look into buying a NEW VCR? My upper right teeth are beginning to hurt, arthritis continues to build, and I'm still avoiding my air conditioner as much as possible, at the cost of being constantly warm and moist, though the fan on the computer-bottom helps a bit. Phoned Terry yesterday and she exclaimed three or four times "How FREAKY" that she was just thinking of calling me with two math books (of which I took both), since all the medical books have HAD their indexes done by the AUTHORS! The beginning of the end of indexing work? Susan is happy with lots of work, but other freelancers seem to be suffering. Next I'll probably try catching up on my book-list, now that my reading shelf has gone below 20 volumes yet to read (though admittedly all over 300 pages). Paul's been here, Kevin is coming, Yama has yet to send his credit-card number for Broadway tickets, and Bill and Jerry are coming later---busy summer. AND sent the first of Mom's monthly $200 checks---hoping she doesn't figure all I'm paying for is the INTEREST, and she'll be DEAD before my getting the balance to her! Tough, Mom, TOUGH!!

7/10/95: Great Adventure #9 (first was 1974, this is first since 1986): Shelley had a dental appointment before and dinner after: time limited: 10:50AM: Leave New Jersey after breakfast at Miss America Diner.
12:05PM: Find Safari buses only hourly, reserve for 4PM (last) bus.
12:45PM: Enter and ride the Ferris Wheel until 1:05PM. On line for Batman.
2PM: Leave Batman for Water Effect, on line from 2:05 to 2:25, sluice-splash.
2:40-3:20: Mach 1, interesting-enough ride, perfect timing to return to car.
3:40-3:50: Drive back to Safari entrance, use johns, clear phones, wait.
4:05-4:40: Cheat of a fast bus ride through Safari.
4:40-6:10: Unimpeded drive home, let out at Shelley's parking on Love Lane.

7/12/95: Great Adventure #10 (should go again to make my average every-other-year): 10:20AM: Leave Metropark and meet Suzie's friends and onto NJ Turnpike.
11:10AM: To exit 7A, fearing crowd, but cars move quickly.
11:35-12:35: Safari, MUCH better by private car, Suzie and Charles LOVED it.
1:15PM: Onto Scream Machine line; 1:30: notice they've stopped; 1:35: restart with empty cars; 1:48: people started again; 2:10-2:15: on and off GOOD ride.
Kennywood was HARDER on the first loop: "235 feet" opposed to "173 feet" here.
2:30: Onto Viper line; 2:48: "temporary delay" and empty car; 2:58:"now open";
2:59: first passengers STOP on first rise; 3:01: starts again; 3:12 on FAST: only 40 seconds up and 30 seconds until final stop! Only rip-off in park.
3:25-4PM: Runaway Train line and Charles accepts ride. Wait for Suzie to 4:40.
4:43-5PM: Short line for Rolling Thunder, bumpier at end than I remembered it.
5:15: On Skyride line, good trip across: whole group begrudging me.
5:30-6:20: Asia Tower line and ride, very wet at end, odd light-dark effects.
6:50-7:18: Phineas Fogg's Balloon Ride for views of Water Effect and Freefall.
7:20-7:50: SHOULD see "preliminaries," as show is loud and only 20 minutes!
7:55-8:45: Dine in Granny's Country Fried Chicken (pretty awful), with kids.
8:50-9:30: Batman-the-Ride quicker, darker, more fun, and quick across to the
9:30-9:35: Skyride, without ANY wait, and see a small line down below for the
9:35-9:50: Runaway Train, in position for lakeside views of rather unusual
9:50-10:15: Firework show, then back to Stroller booth and wait from
10:20-10:30: for angry wife, drive to Metropark by 10:10, train at 12:45 to 1:15 to Newark for WTC, riding from 1:27-1:50AM, A-train 2-2:05, home 2:15AM!

7/14/95: 5:40PM: Not only did the gym open today for my groaning exercising from 10:30-11:50, but Tony came over 12:20-1:10, and then had to return to pick up his forgotten eyeglasses. Nothing on Audience Extras, but Jerry C. called last night with $17 tickets to Chronicle of a Death Foretold tomorrow night. High temperature today of 96° and forecast of 102° record-high tomorrow, so I guess I'm glad I'm not going out that much. Finished up all the VCR watching yesterday, and got rid of about 6 days' mail, but haven't put it away yet, just feeling LAZY! Indexes now coming in, which is good: maybe they'll give me energy to get back to finish the videotape files, with Tony SAYING he'll call next week so we can check out Marty's male porno collection. Spartacus leaving for 10 days tomorrow, Pope still complaining, and since Dick H. hasn't called, I assume the CIA date IS August 12, and not before. AND still have the Javits computer-stack to go through, and try to find out what's the deal with empty-file Netscapes last Saturday, not to mention UPDATING the Be/Do/Have so I can TELL what I've got to get into town to see before it vanishes, other than The Tempest before its last day on Wednesday next. And not one IOTA of interest in writing ANYTHING LIKE a play for next year's Village Playwrights schedule! But maybe I WILL try Great Adventure through my SCRIPSV Notebooks, to see if I missed any: COULD have been more than 10 in the years since 1974! WHEN am I going to pack up the newspapers to put out one coming Tuesday night? At least I defrosted the MUCH needed-defrosting refrigerator, and washed dishes, and WILL take the laundry out tomorrow so I'll have clean stuff for the gym early NEXT week: unending!!

8/7/95: Enter notes taken before:

Note from 6/25/95: Wacky Grandma in The Wedding Gift: "10 minutes of this rain will do more good in half an hour than a fortnight of ordinary rain would do in a month." "But it's not raining."

Note from 6/28/95: Boeing 777 ADVERTISING program on Channel 13:
1) COMPANY responsible for the prior program on designing and this on tests.
2) COMPUTER simulation was OK, but first engine flight-test has BACKFIRE! "We would have tested THAT later." What MORE would have they tested when IT goes?
3) Fewer engines, fewer moving parts: safety be DAMNED. "They (European FAA, called JAA) don't trust OUR confidence." Well, who WOULD??
4) Pressure test #1 blows the back door out. "Oops, have to do some redesign!"
5) First TAXI, O-ring blows FRONT door open.
6) "All is out in the open; we tell the truth always":
     a) "Rollout" 15 times/7000 employees; "REAL" rollout is LATER!
     b) "OK, everyone, first flight TOMORROW" (when it took off ALREADY TODAY!)
7) "Vibrating on braking---we won't do anything now." Just a "low crash."
8) 777 looks POORLY DESIGNED on tapering tail. 6/12/94: first flight Plane #1.
9) First test results: "Three small problems; otherwise flawless." Starting in June, 1995, PASSENGERS have been flying across the Atlantic on the 777!!

Note from 7/4/95: 10AM: Me: Height 5'11½", weight 191#: AT 20% over optimal weight!

Note from 7/6/95: Call Terry at Springer: "This is FANTASTIC, I was JUST going to call."

Note from 7/17/95: Leave word with Garry G. at 10AM; 10:50AM he calls: Me: "Did you understand my message?" LG: "You called me? I didn't check my messages. You must have read my MIND!"

Note from 7/14/95: Spartacus tells me at last, it was PAXTON WHITEHEAD at Restaurant 222 on 6/18!

Note from 7/26/95: Kevin OK's my "director auditions 'unperfect' actor for 'Hamlet' ('To Be or Not to Be')" and talks of Eco-topics of frustration, "well-made plays," etc. Finally on 8/7/95 I at least START A PAGE in WP for The Director.

Note from 7/26/95: Lespinasse 7-course dinner with Mildred, Helen and George, Marty and Clodi, Bernice, Kevin, and me: Italian Brut champagne for $30 (NOT BILLED!)
1) Lobster, rice flakes, mushroom sauce: interesting textures and good taste.
2) Saffron linguini, quail breast, chanterelles: VERY tender and delicious.
Stellenbosch White wine for $31 from South Africa; all 5 of us loved it a lot.
3) Swordfish on cabbage with lemon-grass sauce: LARGE piece of meat, tender.
4) Crawfish and prawns (where?) with corn-potato terrine on peppers and squid.
Stellenbosch Merlot for $29, intense, not that good, but food made it better.
5) Veal medallion, carrot and onion confit, on Syrah reduction, just FABULOUS!
6) Coconut sorbet and passion-fruit coulis in a tasty-crunchy pecan crust---YUM!
7) Chocolate tarts, vanilla ice cream, with black and red currants, but the SMALL size of the TINY tarts killed the taste present in the FULL-SIZE ones!!
My share of the bill was STILL $168 or something, one of the largest of all.
BUT I WANT TO DO IT AGAIN!!

Note from 8/5/95: Susan gives me three cute quizzes from Sunday morning Public Radio: 1) Type 5-letter FIRST name with RIGHT hand and 6-letter LAST name with LEFT hand of a famous person, and I go through Molly and Polly and Holly and Milly and Lilly before coming up with JIMMY, at which CARTER naturally falls out.
2) Famous work of literature of five words, four letters each. I start looking through McGill Masterplots, then think to turn to Shakespeare, and there, first on the list, is All's Well That Ends Well. Call Susan FAST.
3) Synonym for "extreme radicals" with EACH of the FIVE vowels used TWICE: and I give up on that, having THOUGHT it was EACH VOWEL USED (not necessarily five) twice, so I would have been on the wrong track: ULTRAREVOLUTIONARIES!

8/9/95: Today is really a GAS! When I went to the gym at 3:30, the day was ABSOLUTELY perfect: white clouds sailing in blue skies, low humidity, fresh breeze, ideal temperature, the air actually felt good as it caressed the skin. Finish indexing the last pages I have of the last index I have, and with nothing else pressing to do, decide to open a bottle of champagne all for myself this evening while I broil my filet mignon and get out the can of corn to cook for a "balanced" meal. Vicki calls, inviting me to Two Gentlemen of Verona on Sunday night at Boscobel for $18 for seniors, and I say I'll have to call Dick to see what happens after dinner Saturday at the CIA and lunch Sunday with the ex-IBMers, meanwhile bragging about the dinner I'm preparing for myself. Really smashed as I drink the last two glasses of the six the bottle offers, and I take my check to the bank along with the $100 bill and withdraw $200, which I feel awkward carrying with me on the Promenade. The evening is glorious: the air is so clear that the black edges of the Manhattan-skyline buildings are preternaturally sharp against the dirty pinks and bright violets of the sunset. Each light in each window is vividly distinct, as are the lights on the passing boats and the rushing automobiles on both sides of the river. The red light atop 50 Wall or 60 Pine is a ruby, while the top of the Woolworth Building shines like alabaster lit from within. The Con Ed building's white is perfectly centered against the gold of the Empire State Building, while the chevrons of the Chrysler Building are hidden behind the near tower of the Brooklyn Bridge, each cable distinct against the sky, illuminated flags sharp on the top of both towers. I sit on a bench under trees that leafily fringe the top of a spectacular panorama: from the gold pyramid of Worldwide Plaza in the north, past the ruby atop 1 Pennsylvania Plaza, other midtown towers, and south to the surprising bulk of the unnamed building that weights the southern end of Manhattan, past Jersey towers distinct against the sunset palette, to the gold nugget held aloft by the State of Liberty, around to the twinkles on Staten Island. Sightseers obligingly move away from the railing to permit my unobstructed view, but a gaggle of flashbulbs, probably from a tour bus, reflect up the Promenade. A pressure to urinate soon grows intense, so I get back home at 8:55PM to note that, even here, I manage to do things in groups of three: 1) pee, 2) drop off $180 of the withdrawn $200, 3) reduce apartment lights from bright to dim. Swing back down the stairs to a more northerly part of the Promenade, more view being blocked off by the cigarette poster on the south face of a building below the Belt Parkway, and I move again when cigarette smoke is being blown north in my direction. About 9:30 decide that I want to visit One Front, and swing down the hill past a gabbling crowd outside Patsy's to the well-lit almost-empty bar: a cute Asian bartender had worked in Star Sapphire until it closed ("They wanted more rent, and the people upstairs didn't like the noise from the bar"), asked me if I was gay ("Lots of guys wander in here by mistake"), and, when asked, said that the best time here would be about 11:30PM on Saturdays, praising their drag shows, which I dismissed as uninteresting. He raved about the expensive decor at M on 49th, right next to the Box Tree Restaurant, and HX says that Monday night is Muscle Night. Yum. The grouch who forbade me walking upstairs to see the room and the view is said to be the owner, and he's talking with a muscular Black in shorts and skimpy T-shirt: they're the only ones in the place. I drink 3/4 of my beer, put down $1 tip in addition to the beer's $5, and leave to walk down Willow Street, the north end of which vibrates from the noise from the Belt diving under their foundations, and pass 111 Hicks, and on impulse ask for Peter R. He speaks to me, dismisses my coming up, saying yes, he'd like to see the Promenade, but when I can't find the john downstairs, he invites me to his 18th floor aerie for some sherry and talks about Tasca do Porto, with its handsome waiters; IGT, which I'm reminded I haven't gotten yet; again praises Stella's for $50-reasonable hustlers with great bodies, best Thursday at 10:30 and weekends a bit later. Home at 11:30PM, totally bombed, to computer.

8/18/95: Great weekend in Katonah with the H.s and back about 7:30PM to find Paul's bag in front of my upstairs door. He'd phoned on Saturday to say he was coming Sunday about 5PM, leaving me a note in the door suggesting I hadn't understood his message and therefore wasn't here to receive him. Put stuff away and he arrives about 10PM, watches some porno, and we go to bed early without saying much, which sets the pattern for the week. I don't spend QUITE as much time with him as I did with Kevin, but then he knows the city better and knows better what HE wants to do, and I get involved with Carolyn with the INDEX TO THE INTERNET (ITTI) project, on which she has a breakfast meeting (with 450 other people) with a fund-raising and proposal-management symposium at some hotel at 7:30AM on Thursday. She comes over Monday night, which gives me an excuse to work on it bright and early Tuesday morning with a list that I got from some other index, then fax her the pages and we again go through an evaluation. Paul's visit is centered around food, since we schedule for CT on Tuesday, which is so good that nothing following really measures up to the imagination, quality, and pleasure of that first dinner. Lunch at Chanterelle is pleasant, but my veal paillard is not really special and then I forget about trying the Wessel-O'Conner gallery and we're directly up to the Cooper-Hewitt for wallpaper, body jewelry (impressive with its vitrines combining objects from modern America, American Indian and African native cultures, and ancient Egypt, as well as varying ages of European articles), and an embroidered quilt, with another exhibit on German something-or-other that didn't quite make an impression. Walk in the heat down Madison for him to visit the Whitney while I check out Tenzing and Prem Toyshop with great books, puzzles, toys, and the news that Parker Brothers has LOST the rights to everything except BASIC Monopoly, and other companies are doing "New York in a Box" with everything LIKE Monopoly (including the COLORS of the deeds) except that a hotel is represented by a "key to the city" and the names of the streets are different, Jail is a Traffic Jam, and Go is Taxi; and "Universityopoly" for 75 different colleges, incorporating favorite streets and hangouts and customs. There's also a European Monopoly with ECUS as currency and Rue de la Paix (France) and Kufursterdam (Germany) as Park Place and Boardwalk. Tell Carolyn about this when she tells me she got to the microphone for 30 seconds after many of the people had left the meeting, but she's still optimistically expecting someone to phone her with interest in the Internet Index. I manage to vacuum yesterday before going to the gym for the second time in three days, changing across from that enormous body (marred by ripening pimples across his sculpted shoulders framed by his cannonball deltoids) while he seems to keep LOOKING at me, even when we pass in the hall when I leave, exciting my imagination. Plans to get to Petrossian early are ruined by a "passenger injury at the 137th Street station" which means that the expresses aren't going above 96th Street, though it also means that every other express goes BACK to Brooklyn from 42nd Street, so the uptown local is late and jammed. Sadly, Petrossian runs a poor third to CT and Chanterelle in excellence, starting with the news that the Pressed Caviar isn't available this evening, and they don't have Framboise except in the concentrated white form. At least we're not overwhelmed with quantities of food, and the Sevruga caviar goes down VERY nicely, but the Sancerre is very overpriced at $35 and the whole thing is $223 and change. Get home to finish what I can see as the start of the second version of the ITTI pages, and Paul goes to bed just after 11:30PM and I join him after finding that the modem, overheated, seems to produce garbage tonight. Then wake just after 9AM and get to the computer to finish the fragments of dreams in my memory [DREAMS:8/18/95], type out the pages that I finished after Paul went to bed, thinking to phone Carolyn and asking if she wants me to fax her THESE, and finish THIS page just after 9:45AM, with lots of little notes of things to finish up today, mainly free for Paul's last full day in NYC, and Yama's not coming until NEXT weekend, so I don't have my final worries about his tickets YET.

8/21/95: 6:30AM: Woke at 5:30 and made a note for a play-title-form:

                                    THERE
                          THEN        by      WERE
     _________ AND            Bob Zolnerzak            TWO _________
      \             o o o o o o o o  at  o o o o o o o            /
        \    PLAYS:         Village Playwrights         MOVIE    /
       \\\\_____________WITHIN-____NOVEL-____MAKING:__________////ooooooooo

I.  PREPARATIONS
     1. The Idea          2. Fund-Raising Party
II. TRAVELING
     1. Getting Off       2. Enter Whales
III.CLIMAXES
     1. Storms            2. Dwindling       6 scenes x 30 min/scene = 180 pp.

Thought about it for a while, then made the following note at 5:50AM:

ACT I, Scene 1: The Idea
     Bill C. as Director
     auditioning Kevin B.
     BC: You're crazy to want to act.
     KB: You're crazy to do this play.
          New versus tradition; sex versus literature.

ACT I, Scene 2: Fund-Raising Party
     All of Village Playwrights raising money to "get where they want" and
          "go where they want to go." Deciding/arguing/optimism vs pessimism/
               humor/sex.

ACT II, Scene 1: Getting Off
     Sex imaging/questioning and on boat. Stage as sea, audience as wavers-off.

ACT II, Scene 2: Enter Whales
     Destroyers/new concepts/more sex/dance sequences/imagined-fantasy climax.

ACT III, Scene 1: Storms
     Storms of emotion carry people off. Killings/drownings/abandonments.

ACT III, Scene 2: Dwindling
     Back to two people, "walking up mountain, at top, continuing UPWARD."

Think about it some more: Bill M. as stage-direction reader, making snide comments to himself. Bill C. saying, "This is impossible to read" to Author/Me, sitting in audience. Inclusive ideas: 1) My old idea of writing a self-referential Village Playwrights audition/sex/character-study, 2) My new idea (OK’d by Kevin) of "To Be or Not to Be" read by voice-defective actor, getting into well-constructed versus modernism, 3) A/M saying "OK, that didn't work, go to page 15 and start from there." 4) No one needing to MEMORIZE their lines since it's ALL in the framework of a read-through BEFORE performance. 5) III/1: Characters throwing pages into air and picking random speeches and random interactions. 6) Possible offstage voice-over of "REAL" writer/director/God exerting ADDITIONAL level of control. 7) I/2 as CRITIQUE of I/1, A/M TAPING comments to be USED/MODIFIED in REAL I/2. 8) Possibility of ENTIRE II/III changing because of REAL comments on I/1 in I/2 and beyond. 9) Thought of A/M "really" trying to seduce Andy M., with his "Gee whiz, this sounds just LIKE me; this is EMBARRASSING!" 10) References to The Play's the Thing, Betrayal, Six Characters in Search of an Author, etc.

Also from 8/21/95: 7:08AM: Now in REAL time, having "caught up in my notes" to now, I look to find my already begun file "MY\DIRECTOR" and open THAT as Document 2 while keeping THIS as Document 1 to flip back to when I need to. Write pretty well to page 1-1-2 (having spent time reading and understanding "Sam French's Guidelines") until about 9:30, when I try to find whether it was Ellen Terry or Eleanore Duse or Sarah Bernhardt who performed Hamlet, but can't find any mention of it, and got absorbed in EB 11's article on Shakespeare, and finally decide to have breakfast at 10AM, noting that BHL is open at 10AM.

8/22/95: 8AM: Get right to MY\DIRECTOR without writing here and get to 1-1-5 before having to stop about 9AM to have breakfast and get to Empire State Building.

8/23/95: 8:40AM: Wake with MORE ideas: calling I-1 En-Counters and III-2 Dis-Counters. SOMEONE ELSE reads AUTHOR, not ME. "Now" at 8:40AM on 8/23/95 (writing note), versus "now" at 9:02AM on 8/23/95 (typing note), versus "now" at ______ (reading play in reading), versus "now" at ______ (reading play in production). And I NOW think of minutely describing a VIDEOTAPE that I'm taking of the first reading carrying a SPIRAL of 7PM-7:30PM time which I can replay at 10AM-11AM (with interruptions) the next day, REFER to it at different times, and REPLAY it at different-yet-again times. [Back to note:] Verb-tense: "constantly occurring in past" versus "constantly occurring in the FUTURE-present." Like "They could have been having wonderful sex" or "They WILL have HAD HAD wonderful sex," or "They WILL have will-have-been-able-to have had had in the FUTURE, before." And now to play, at 9:08AM. Stop for lunch, and talk to Vicki, who cancels TOMORROW (just as Susan canceled TONIGHT's meeting), and go to page 15 (17) by 2:20PM, time for the GYM!

8/24/95: 9:40AM: Record two dream fragments, then figure to get "Scrapbook" files ready to distribute as my NEXT no-work project. Find that my DRAWER goes back to 9/93, and the filing cabinet "to-be-filed" folder yields items not only back to 4/91, but includes items as old as 1990! Get to play 12:02PM. GREAT progress through 1-1-19, 1-2-1, and 2-1-1 through 2-1-6 by 5PM!!

8/25/95: 11:25AM: Other priorities than And Then There Were Two so far. 3PM: Try with no REAL sense of inspiration. Do 2-1-7 and start on 2-2-1, ending at 3:50, stuck!

9/1/95: 1:30PM: Odd sense of DISCONNECTION the past week: like I was vaguely in the WRONG PLACE, or had FORGOTTEN something important to do, or was OUT OF SYNC with the world I found myself in. Part of the sense, maybe, stemmed from my "disgorging" thoughts and emotions into the play, and I was feeling "drained." Part of the sense may have come from suddenly watching 6 video movies and two plays, finding myself part of these other "lives" which were not my own: particularly the touching Boys on the Side, which REALLY affected me with its sensitivity and originality. Part may have been disappointment with the remaining heat: thinking it was nearing September did NOT lower the temperature or humidity. And now, bizarrely, that I WANT to type at 1:40PM, they're going to shut off the power in the BUILDING because of working on the circuit-breaker panels installed yesterday, which even JOHN accepts as needed to decrease risk of fire, and of overloads of power from OTHER apartments affecting power in INDIVIDUAL apartments. But then I FINISHED with the plays and the movies, FINISHED with the obligation to Yama and other visitors, PLAYED Scrabble with Susan and Vicki to "relax," and even thought of ideas of INCLUDING in the play for the past couple of days, which I noted down, AND caught up with tasks like talking to Mildred about maybe reserving for the Lascaux trip next year, but NOW I have to shut OFF the computer, though I'm slightly tempted to leave it GOING to see how much the BATTERY will hold up, even though I haven't replaced it, and someone on MAS has just had to replace HIS, but now I'm going to PRINT this page and get OFF!

9/18/95: 8:30AM: Bed early last night at 11PM, wakened by Susan at midnight with a crazy "straight-letter" game which keeps me up until 12:40AM with the 15 "curveless" letters AEFHIKLMNTVWXYZ to engender Lillian Hellman and William Wellman before sleeping. Then wake at 8AM with the detailed due-dream of DREAMS:9/18/95, and read through NOTEBOOK:9/1/95 to feel I'd LOST that "out of sync" feeling but have now REGAINED it a bit: partly from a "different gym after a half-hour's bus ride" displacement on Saturday, a "let's try this restaurant and this gallery" desperation with Bill and Gerry this past week, culminating at Carmine's and Carol Burnett's Moon Over Buffalo tonight, and the increasing pressure to produce ANOTHER scene for tomorrow's Village Playwrights to top the semi-successful reading last Tuesday (from which Al L. will be absent tomorrow; interestingly the least-specific Author), and this morning's stiff right knee-muscle and shoulder-muscles from the strange non-Nautilus machines at the Prospect Park gym on Saturday, some systemic ill that might stem from determinedly finishing four days of May's prescription for Acetaminophen/Codeine to see if it relieves my arthritis-pain (it doesn't) before my October-end appointment with Dr. G. in Brooklyn Hospital through HIP, and recurring over-eating pressures from hamburgers and the Beard Foundation. Not to mention the need to sleep under a blanket for the first few nights after one of the hottest summers, the psychological pressure that my air conditioner will be prohibited unless I pay for a special outlet through the bastard B., and the knowledge that I haven't been working on ITTI while entertaining myself and doing indexes and thinking about the play. And oddly feeling hungry at 8:40AM, which is good since I'll be having dinner at 6PM and I've been spending the last 3-4 days without any lunches at all: just very late breakfasts and over-filling dinners. And the task of accumulating Xeroxing jobs for tomorrow: the pages from Thom Gunn's Collected Poems, the four Scrabble cheat-sheets for Susan as well as Lina, twenty copies of my first Village Playwrights supplement which I might as well get, and the not-yet-edited 19A-30A (and possibly some new) pages which then have to be yellowed (maybe erroneously for more fun?) for Tuesday night.

9/26/95: 3PM: Like last year, this year's indexing pressure is at its HIGHEST when I have to leave for the Adirondacks. This REALLY SHOULD be my last year, and I debate asking Suzie to pick me up for her trip up to see Mack and Betsy on THANKSGIVING, rather than putting me through the hassle of going away for six days every busy season. HAD thought that Pope was coming to a crisis with his operation today, but he phones at 1PM to say the doctor wouldn't give him anesthesia WITHOUT diagnosing the reason for his atrial fibrillation on his current EKG. Maybe Dr. C. really IS incompetent? AND I have to call Rita tomorrow about her trip from Mom's---at least she didn't phone me when she was THERE, as I had to phone HER. And Don's mentioning the blood tests he has to do (he doesn't want to talk about it, but it sounds like he's in the control group of a new-drug trial, so he's being tested while knowing he's not really going to benefit from it---maybe in exchange for other trials when he DID have the medicine?), Pope talking about his Will and his Living Will and his possessions, and Sherryl phoning about giving my three 8" Radio Shack diskettes back (and my noting I should give her MORE diskettes of my writings), and concern about Mom, and Sherryl's fuss about her mother in a nursing home, and Shelley's brush with lymphoma settled out as "only" sarcoid, I'm feeling VERY death-concerned, along with all the overweight from the meals, the four times to the Beard Foundation this month, the increasing pain from arthritis in my fingers as I type even as little as this, and the hassle of still going to the Prospect Park Athletic Club coming to an end on Saturday (when I won't be here), and I keep thinking I have MORE to talk, or complain, about (of course, deciding NOT to invite Dennis to the Beard didn't make me feel any better about his hiccupping!), at least I DID cancel the Arcadia, trying to give myself a rest from the incessant Marianne! Page end!! TRAVEL:GARNETHILL

10/7/95: 12:01PM: Incredible colors at Garnet Hill, LOTS of work coming in, Dennis off to California right now to see his mother who "had a massive heart attack" Thursday night, as he was told on Friday that "she probably won't come out of it," so his brother and he are flying out to St. Louis, where they're both taking flight 99 to California to pick up his brother's car in Chula Vista, where he leaves it, and drive to his father who's staying in his mother's hospital. I went down at 10:30AM and talked for about 50 minutes, giving him New York magazines, getting clippings and his mailbox key from him, knowing his return flight is October 20, but he knows he has to take it "day by day," and even when I offer him a cuddle on the sofa, he says with just the barest start of tears that he thanks me for the offer, but he'd better not dig into his emotions because he has so much to take care of. I suggest he wrap his EPO in ice cubes and put them in his suitcase, where he suggests the cold of the storage compartment will be good for it. His brother is prepared to offer their place in New Hampshire for the father if the mother does die (I suggest portentously, when Dennis recounts his father's deepest depressions and his saying "I should never have been born," being countered by his mother's hitting him and saying "You shit-heel, if you'd never been born, who would I have gotten married to and where would Dennis be?" and we agree, that DENNIS would now be the closest to his father to hit him and bring him back to life if need be and the situation arose), and I suggested that Dennis could broaden the choices by saying he could stay with Dennis in NYC or Dennis could stay with him in the house, which he'd been thinking might be wanted. But no one knows what to expect, although Dennis is even thinking about how to get rid of the house and "the antiques: I'm sure some of them are worth lots of money," for which I suggest an auction: one dealer can't get a $50,000 chandelier for $10,000 when there's another dealer willing to bid $11,000 for it, but a single dealer can unobstructedly lie about the total worth of the whole place. Of course, he could get two or three different appraisals and estimates. He asked, "What happens with the body if she dies in the hospital?" and I said that when I was there with my grandmother when my father died, neither of us knew anything to do, but everything was eventually done even though neither of us really ended up knowing anything more. He'd told Marvin and left word with Donna, and will change his phone message to say he'll be back on the 20th, and I told him I told Shelley and Vicki about it at dinner last night, and also mentioned it to Sherryl on the phone this morning. Also told Carolyn, but she seems never to be calling me right back anymore. Then get back up to try to find a better ribbon for an upcoming slew of index-printouts, and before changing, I decide to try one, and then figure I need something to print, so this is it, since I'd already decided that I'd have to write something about Dennis this morning, and I won't have much time with the about a DOZEN indexes here and due quite quickly: my OVER-panic during July and August is really proven silly now: this might actually end up my best year ever, with almost no free time, but I couldn't resist phoning Audience Extras this morning and finding that Swingtime Canteen was available at 3PM, so I phoned Charles and he was willing to come with me, so we're doing THAT, and now it's 12:15 and I'm going to print out the AWFUL Smithmark index AS IS, just to PROVE how many things can still be corrected, and how much time it might take HER to do "such a simple task," and charge her $300 MORE than she thought, I hope, since I've already spent more than 20 hours on it and may get as LITTLE as $600 for the job I really started out by saying should be done from scratch!
Two indexes off Thursday, one by messenger, one by Express Mail, not even finished reading the Sunday Times and ANOTHER one coming in tonight after the party at Dan N.'s, where I STILL fantasize meeting someone interesting: like the tall fellow who seemed to like my performance on the third floor of the Gay Center that I THOUGHT I saw on a telephone HERE and was too stupid to talk to at THAT time. And other details too numerous to mention here and now.

10/18/95: HERE I GO AGAIN!! Shelley told me about the Antarctic trip she'd scheduled starting 12/24, liking the convenience and cheapness of it. Then she sent me an invitation for a 6PM slide-show by the company at the Marriott Marquis on Monday, October 9, which I attended for nice slides and music but not much in the line of edibles except tea and coffee until the end, when I grabbed two delicious (different) cookies filled with pecans. Noted the "Islands of the South Atlantic" tour in the brochure, but there were no prices. So I mentioned this to Lisa, who said she'd mail me specifics, and I gave her my card. On Monday, October 16, I got the brochure and the cost for a B cabin was ONLY $4995! True, with taxes and port fees of $495 in addition, but that INCLUDED airfare! Thought about it, showing the brochure to Charles and Alvin at Primary Stages on Monday night, and looking at maps to see EXACTLY where the places were. Decided I'd have to phone to see if there were space left, at least. Phoned Tuesday morning, and it sounded like I was put in "cabin 305" (which IS the last in the rear, which may mean it's quieter, not being sandwiched between two other cabins; or that it's noiser, being at the lowest passenger level and closest to the engine noise in the rear), and they told me it was about 50-50 men-women on the trip, three zodiacs carrying about 10 people each needed multiple trips for all the passengers, and that all transfers for the return flight were included, and mentioned the $270 extra for cancellation insurance which I instantly declined, but she said, "I'll give you overnight to think about it." When I asked more technical questions, she said she'd have Meriweather, who'd been on it last year, phone me. Talked to Pope, offering him $10 for a quick reading on the dates that at first glance looked good, then to Marj, who quoted Joseph Campbell: "Follow your bliss." Talked to Charles, and even HE said it sounded like a bargain I shouldn't pass up. Meriweather phoned about 5:15PM and said the food was great (she gained 10 pounds), the weather was VERY smooth, only two bad days, and there were only 16 passengers on the FIRST trip last year, because it hadn't been heavily advertised. She raved about the stacks around Gough (pronounced Guff) Island, and the excellence of the ship and service. They mentioned that if I put it on a credit card they had no way of knowing what I'd be charged, since there'd be conversion rates added for US to Canadian and Canadian back to US on the credit card, which wouldn't take place if I just sent them a check. I said I'd send them a check. Talked about it a bit at Village Playwrights last night, where Bill said he HADN'T been shown the brochure the previous evening. Everyone marveled about the trip. Got up about 7:30 this morning (having gone to bed at 10:30 last night, feeling VERY tired from a NOT-that-big chicken-on-country-bread at Chelsea Tavern at 8:30) after jerking off very nicely, and started doing research in maps and EB: reconfirming that it's "one nautical mile to a minute, or 60 nautical miles to a degree," and the south-north distance is 106° and the map-distance comes out AS CLOSE TO 10,000 nautical miles as makes no difference: so 200 knots/day, with stops, is only an average of 10 knots, not THAT fast! Think to take the cancellation insurance if I REALLY get cold feet, being confident I can "dream up" a "non-voluntary" reason for not being able to go, so I phone them back at 10AM this morning and they say to send a check for $1770 for my confirmation. Also send a fax to confirm Ken's and my reservation at CT on 10/31 for our $225 Paul Bocuse dinner, and it's a good thing I calculated on Saturday that THIS year I'll be earning MORE money than ANY other year! Also phoned Channel 13 and was connected to John Heminway's voice-mail, asking him if anyone's covered this before (Meriweather didn't know of any previous or current coverage) and if I could talk to him about supplying him with video footage. Phoned Pope this morning, who was very encouraging, and left word for John to call me, since I left John's name and phone number as an emergency contact. Write this page from 11:40AM to just past noon, and GOT to get back to the index that has to be out tomorrow, the last of the REAL rushes until I get into HRW's schoolbooks.

11/2/95: 9:18AM: LOTS of things going on, and it's even been TWO WEEKS since I've entered ANYTHING here, during MOST of which time I simply INDEXED and enjoyed whatever relief-from-indexing activities I scheduled (MOST nights!). 1) Norma quickly progressed from short-term memory loss to total collapse, and Spartacus sat last night talking about how she's set for suicide in SPOKANE, but not in Austin, where she's visiting her daughter and where Spartacus will join her today before returning to Spokane with her on Tuesday. But her sudden breakdown [HEY, the Thesaurus function really WORKS!] brings up lots of OTHER end-thoughts and HER total depression is CONTAGIOUS! 2) When I'd thought I was DONE with Grade 7 of Holt, and coming into the home stretch of Grade 6, now there are CHANGES to the basic structure AND the Communications Handbook and GUM (Language Handbook) to incorporate ALSO. 3) Fussed endlessly with the bedroom ceiling fixture before finding that the whole bedroom IN-WALL circuit has been LEFT OUT of my circuit-breaker wiring! 4) Strange bird increased-population and frantic-twitterings in the crimson ivy and denuding ailanthus (and time-change darkness) (and chronic dreary drizzle of the past few days) have brought autumn and year-end and life-end thoughts increasingly closer, as have the reviews of Strange Days brought millennial-end thoughts fearfully frequently, increasing overall gloominess. 5) Spartacus's moving has brought MY moving-thoughts closer, with concomitant book-having/discarding, possessions-in-general keeping/releasing ruminations. 6) With steam heat comes dry nose and permanently sore throat, possibly abetted by mold-blackness on the underside of my foam mattress as I upended it to access the defunct bedroom-ceiling lighting fixture: ANOTHER winter! 7) Another TRIP bringing the usual "Why am I doing this?" "What comes NEXT?" "What would I do if I WEREN'T doing this?" and "Will it WORK at all?" 8) Upstairs sounds bring the depression that they seem to be home ALL day EVERY day now, and with BRAD moving out from DOWNSTAIRS, there might be someone NOISIER than his generally benign presence to SANDWICH my annoyances. 9) MAS/Internet not accessed for over a week, laptop still to be attained for the trip, leading to disk-secreting at Sherryl's if disaster destroyed home archives, with "Why keep ANY of this in the FIRST place?" questions re-rising. 10) Springer with another delayed index, more and more checks delayed beyond the month, though I have AT LAST enough to repay Shelley before loading up on THIS year's Keogh and IRA (not full, since limitations probably apply) and trip final payment of almost $4000, not to mention NEXT year's TAX-increases! 11) Bocuse-letdown even though getting TWO signatures: just NOT as good as anticipated, and what OTHER terminal-letdowns might there be toward life-end? 12) The pleasure of the rheumatologist's suggestion that my arthritis might NOT spread is somewhat diminished by increasing aches and pains ELSEWHERE, and what will a steady diet of Tylenol do to my already over-pilled system? 13) Teeth increasingly not cleaned, that "trench-mouth" feeling pervasive? 14) Saturday's hair-styling and coloring appointment with Don's barber reaffirmed my determination not to shave, but how to have a brown head of hair with a gray beard? Color that, too, more frequently, more obviously? 15) Sundance renewal leading me to consider NOT renewing, just as I'd thought of dropping MAN before chatting with more people at the last, pleasantly situated, party in the loft in the 30s. Leading to the WORST point, below: 16) Beginning to understand how old folks in old-folks' homes might NOT take advantage of interesting people around them: they've ALREADY lost SO MANY friends and lovers over the years that they NO LONGER WANT TO meet new people that they'll just fear losing over the immediate next years, also reminding one of one's OWN temporary health and life, tending to reinforce a withdrawal that might be (probably is!) more painful than death itself---the VOLUNTARY restriction of emotions and connections in fear of their wrenching disconnections reinforcing prior sadnesses and senses of loss. AND, to boot: 17) I've not been WRITING my play, my bid for PAPER immortality, to at least FOOL myself into some sense of permanence against these fleeting mortal COILS!

11/18/95: Typed more notes:

Note from 8/25/95: Time-Life Lost Civilizations: Africa: Great Zimbabwe: 1) IS solid 30-foot tower enclosed by wall a LINGAM in a YONI?
2) ARE "ball-footed" birds PHALLI, like the lions at Delos? 3) "Africans don't build stone walls or houses"; aren't EGYPTIANS Africans??

Note from 9/4/95: Top 30 pop tunes of ALL TIME list: 1) I Can't Get Started With You (Buddy Berrigan), 2) Stardust (Nat King Cole), 3) Stardust (Artie Shaw), 4) Begin the Beguine (Artie Shaw), 5) Moonlight Serenade (Glenn Miller), 6) Green Eyes (Jimmy Dorsey), 7) In the Mood (Glenn Miller), 8) Sing Sing Sing (Benny Goodman) [6 instrumental of top 8], 9) My Way (Sinatra), 10) You Belong to Me (Jo Stafford, first woman), 11) I've Got You under My Skin (Sinatra), 12) Because of You (Sinatra?), 13) Unforgettable (Nat King Cole), 14) I Left My Heart in San Francisco (Tony Bennett), 15) New York, New York (Sinatra), 16) When Your Old Wedding Ring Was New (Jimmy Rozelli), 17) Over the Rainbow (Judy Garland), 18) Green Eyes (Bob Eberle), 19) Mack the Knife (Bobby Darren), 20) Night and Day (Sinatra), 21) I'll Never Smile Again (Sinatra), 22) I Understand (Jimmy Dorsey), 23) Summerwind (Sinatra) [Sinatra with 7 of top 17 non-instrumental], 24) White Christmas (Bing Crosby), 25) Sunny Side of the Street (Tommy Dorsey), 26) String of Pearls (Glenn Miller), 27) All the Things You Are (Helen Farrell), 28) Mona Lisa (Nat King Cole), 29) Mala Femina (Jimmy Rozelli), 30) Wind Beneath My Wings (Bette Midler).

Note from 9/20/95: Deepak Chopra notes from TV: Life is a sexually transmitted incurable disease. 98% of body replaced each year; new skeleton every 3 months, DNA ATOMS change every 6 weeks. Human body now about $7 in materials. Body manifests OBJECTIVE reality; mind manifests SUBJECTIVE reality. CONTINUING disease is OLD MEMORIES of old disease. Touching bodies is healthful. Self-happiness rating DETERMINES death. MORE people die at 9AM Monday. Anxious people "run out of time" and DIE. Seer and seen become one: love. All time exists NOW. Love as ultimate truth of creation. Perception is LEARNED. Universe becomes conscious through US. The soul is BEYOND change. The real you is non-local. The thinker exists BETWEEN the thoughts. To KNOW karma (memory, desire, action) is to be FREE of it. The body is hologramized memory. When you're WHOLE, ALL HERE, you're healed. "Healing is the loss of fear that comes about when we lose our fear of change because we've discovered a part of ourselves that is beyond change." Does he BELIEVE it?

11/28/95: LOTS of indexing work finished and LOTS more to go: finished Grade 6 for Holt on Sunday and gave myself two days of VCR-catching-up-with, but STILL about 30 hours behind. Then more than 80 hours to go on the Spectrum huge project, AND today I find out that I WILL be doing grade 9 during the month of December for Holt! AND telephoned an estimate to Microwave Data Systems AND haven't heard yet from Bonner. Retyped another Village Playwrights list, really rather a pain, and it's now 4:40PM and I haven't had LUNCH yet, with an "early" dinner at 8PM coming up after VP. Keeping up with the gym fine, even apartment-tasks are in pretty good shape now that I told Mrs. R. today that I SAW a mouse in my kitchen yesterday and that the electricians said I had an "illegal wire" supplying electricity to my now-dark bedroom-wall-and-ceiling fixtures. Hair is STILL dark from the coloring and I felt MUCH better at MAN with darker hair and EVERYONE says it looks GREAT and VERY natural. Looked at Vicki's GRID yesterday and it seems to be working (and compatible)---GREAT! ANOTHER worry taken care of. Just checked with MAS and Intercom after having the computer OFF for two days, and GLAD that that "fan-rubbing" sound that I heard for the two days previous has NOT yet come back (in the hour since I've had it back on). Money is in GREAT shape since Richard S. said I'd be paid by March 1 if I submitted my TOTAL bill (for about $12,700!) on January 1. Paul C. coming for Christmas, when Susan MAY be moving to Rick's job in northern Italy! Lots happening!!

12/9/95: Typed notes:

Note from 11/29/95: 9:35AM: Two "new" ideas:
1) Enlightened awareness as RAIN/DEW that MOISTENS/SOFTENS/WETS parchedness.
2) Fearing death? Parts of us (cells, molecules, atoms) are dying EACH INSTANT, by MILLIONS. We LIVE in death, BY death, and FOR death EACH INSTANT!

Note from 11/31/95: My reviews of Rousseve's Whispers of Angels: Some of the pieces are better than the sum of the parts. Interested to hear: "Inside this wreck which was once majestic" inside the wreck which was once The Majestic!

Note from 12/1/95: Deepak Chopra: Seven Spiritual Laws of Success. Success = Fulfillment of our desires = Expansion of happiness. Success is JOURNEY, not DESTINATION.
We must understand reality: a continuum of body, soul, and mind.
LAW 1: Law of Pure Potentiality. My SELF is pure SPIRIT. A) Experience in silence; take TIME for meditation. As I stop judging, I get silence.
B) Commune with nature.  C) Refrain from judging.
LAW 2: Law of Giving (and Receiving). If you STOP flow, you STOP success. Give (and receive) attention, affection, appreciation, caring, and love.
LAW 3: Law of Karma: Action, Choice-Making. Every action RETURNS to us.
Karma gives the possibility of endless space-time adventures.
LAW 4: Law of Least Effort. A) Accept THIS moment, B) Be responsible without guilt or shame. Re-label problems as opportunities. Respond to pain as to pleasure. C) Relinquish need to DEFEND your point of view. When you are defenseLESS, there can be no HOSTILITY to you.
LAW 5: Law of Intention and Desire. Desire is connection: existent and nonexistent. Desire is potentiality seeking manifestation. If you have a desire, we're MEANT to fulfill it. If we INTEND, in potentiality, it succeeds. IF we desire comes from PURE SILENCE (NOT ego), UNIVERSE will handle it for us. Huxley's Perennial Philosophy: IN desire is progress of EVERYTHING. SURRENDER desires to "womb of creation."
LAW 6: Law of Detachment. Become alert witness to your own SELF. Not ROLES played, but SELF. The past is the prison of the known. Be involved with passion, yet detached.
LAW 7: Law of Dharma: Purpose in Life. A) Each person has a UNIQUE talent. When you ACT in that talent, you're in TIMELESSNESS: TIMELESS mind: joy, ecstasy, exaltation. B) We are here to help each other. Not "What's in it for me?" but "How can I help?" C) We are here to experience our higher self. Chopra quotes Huxley, Gibran, Chardin, and Castenada, among many others.
LAW 7 says: We are gods in embryo. There is nothing OTHER than God.

Also on 12/9/95: Great intervening 11 days from last entry! Repeat "LOTS of indexing work finished and LOTS more to go": Answered questions and just-about-set to start and finish Holt's Grade 9 before 12/22 deadline AND revel in relaxing memo from Blair of Spectrum yesterday (with the Clinical Chemistry final chapters AT LAST) saying that THAT deadline is ALSO 12/22! So I wake this morning with a dream that I record while catching up with the previous dream-note on DREAMS:12/9/95, with thoughts that I record here before catching up with three previous notebook-notes, and then will take care of my note from last night "Send Rita's card" by first writing and then sending out this year's CHRISTMAS letter and cards before diving back into total-time indexing! It took ALL LAST WEEK to catch up with the VCR viewing, but I finally DID it and was grateful that THIS week only afforded 2 hours of watching: only last night's half-hour Sneak Previews is there to be watched. NOISES have been awful, however: radiators CONSTANTLY banging (as one in bedroom is AT THIS MOMENT) as heat went off a week ago Thursday in all but one riser, meaning I had to wear long-johns for a few days while complaining to Ms. R. about lack of heat, and FINALLY heat began to be steady around Tuesday of THIS week---but the NOISE from upstairs ALL DAY AND ALL NIGHT LONG (and now the radiator-noise has transferred into the FRONT room!), and the apartment-repair-noise downstairs ALL DAY LONG has found my earplugs in more hours per day than they're OUT! And then the muffin-fan on my 486-chip began making grinding sounds because of the DUST accumulating inside my case-free computer, which stopped when I wiped off some surface dust, then when I stopped and restarted it, and now, when I check to see why it's QUIET, I find that it's STOPPED, but the wintry air from the snow-that's-just-changed-to-rain outside seems to be "maintaining its cool." Which reminds me of the wintry air I felt coming from my French doors two days ago, meaning that they had OPENED slightly for some reason (though John said they sometimes just "popped open" on his side), and I broke a fingernail in my 15 attempts (finally successful, thank goodness) to slam it shut again (the secret was to PUSH BACK on the closed door so that the closing door could engage without having its "hasp-nest" bouncing away from its hasp [well, thesaurus doesn't have "hasp," which dictionary tells me DOES mean "fastener," but specifically of the "metal strap flipping over metal eye through which a padlock can secure the opening" type, and I guess, lacking a "what is it" dictionary of illustrations, "door-catch" would be the clearest term] as I slammed and slammed, fearing to break the window-glass in the increasingly rotted frame). Which reminds me of the time devoted TO those French doors by Mr. B. and the young couple who invaded my apartment Thursday night (story later) when HE forgot his KEYS to the downstairs apartment in showing it to them. I was so furious I didn't even respond to HER "Thank you" and HIS "Sorry to bother you," and I hope they noticed B. didn't thank me at all, nor did he get my bedroom-ceiling light to work when he clicked it on. And I was HOME Thursday night because my previously planned dinner and wine and Scrabble at Carolyn's had been CANCELLED in my book when I played my phone messages and heard her voice cancelling Thursday. I was sad about it, but she sounded sad, too, so I didn't call to berate her. DON called Thursday, about 4:30, from his apartment, and though he was exhausted wanted me to "come out and play." When I SAID that the evening had been cancelled and I'd done other things in the morning and had planned to WORK that night, he said, "Aren't you good!" Then by 8:30PM, having worked 9:40 that day and finally getting INTO it (the first few days BACK indexing from my "week off" were a MISERY: arthritis aching in fingers and thumb-base, eyes sore, neck and back tight; so that on Monday only 4:20 was really feasible. Tuesday went up to 6 hours, but still with effort, Wednesday sank back to 2:45 (though it included 2:00 from Grade 7 correction-determination from Holt), the phone rang and Carolyn shouts, "Where ARE you?" Turns out her message was from LAST week! So I raced over in the now-freezing night by 9PM, ate her cheese and crackers while she coached her roommate on her computer, drank her wine with ice cubes while eating her now-meated stew over about two pounds of penne, and just barely won a reasonably fast Scrabble game before leaving at midnight. To continue from the 11-day-ago notebook-note [NOTEBOOK:11/28/95], I DID get the Bonner at last, with a note that said I could even delay completion until mid-January if I had to. Nothing yet from other still-possible jobs. Am NOT keeping up with the gym since I felt I might be coming down with a cold 3 days ago and took a shower HERE for the first time in a couple months. Talked to Don about restauranting late tonight, and actually GOT Bouterin on the phone who VERY PERSONALLY apologized for not having a reservation for us this evening! La Cote Basque only had room at 11PM! Then hit on Le Bernardin (with IGT discount!), and she said she'll call by 2PM if there's an earlier cancellation than their 10:30 available slot now. Still have Lespinasse and Chanterelle to try, but would probably go with CT next. Now I've writing THIS out by 11:55AM! NEXT?!
Now at 12:15PM I've finished the previous page of notes from before, noted that my typewriter ribbon is QUITE dark when it's given a long rest, turned on all the radiators after I put on a sweater to keep warm, talked to Pope about how nice it is to stay indoors on a wintry day outside, and admired my two DRIED roses, my LIVE rose, and my TWO COMING ROSEBUDS. Life is GOOD!

12/19/95: 9:25AM: Life is BAD! This in response to the "Life is GOOD!" ending of the previous page, the last line on the page above. First, as I noted in the DREAMS:12/19/95 entry for my dream today, my stomach feels almost constantly full when I'm not hungry, and I almost had the feeling of throwing up when I woke, groggy, at 8:55AM this morning. Maybe there's something slightly wrong with my tuna-casserole from last night: the microwave-heated food tasted "off" a bit, like the oil wasn't microwaving properly and congealing to an "off" substance. Then when I went to print the page that I thought I'd finished, I found another 7-8 characters CHANGED to something like ^U^C^Cs@#, followed by a hard-page character which put off the pagination. I used two phone numbers to get to MAS yesterday morning, and maybe THAT did something? Or I have a slow-virus? At least I can TELL when something's off: the PAGES are off! On the other hand, I was happy that Paul's visit was postponed until 12/24, by which time I may have a couple more indexes completed and will have time to play, get the pillowcase from the laundry, and clean up the apartment a bit, particularly the ultrasonic dust that may be making me cough when I come into the living room in the morning. At least Grade 9 for HRW seems to be going quickly, provided they send me the pages I seem not to have---or maybe NOT, so the indexes will be finished even MORE quickly! And the last Village Playwrights tonight until two weeks into the new year! And it's snowing, but not as much as the predicted six inches yet. And I again remind myself to check up on Tony, which reminds me of WHO has been calling and not answering when I pick up quickly: let's hope it's some telephone solicitor put off by my testy voice!

12/20/95: 1:05PM: Well, OK, so life is GOOD again! Following the "trail" of yesterday, my stomach feels better, even though I finished the tuna-casserole for dinner with an unlikely combination of cottage cheese and the last of the ham! [This call-up found no MORE changed characters here, and last night I did a backup (first since 4/4) that took only 20meg.] And the snow is surely MORE than six inches by now, probably even by 2AM this morning, when I shut off the lights and became so engrossed in the pink-gray pre-dawn preternatural light that I went onto the ROOF to enjoy the brightness over Manhattan and over Brooklyn, the pink from no discernible source, including fires or aurorae. Called Tony, who thought I was on my trip, who called me "always first fiddle" on his sex-play list, which was touching, as was Don's compliment of "You're a real friend, I don't tell you that enough." And just as I was PISSED at John's buzzing me, he buzzed me Monday while I was talking to Vicki, and I CURSED his incessant buzz, and he handed me eight powdered-sugared nut cookies! To which I returned five of Suzie's sugar-raisin cookies she sent me "with love" yesterday. And the Holt back-pages and the Spectrum changed-chapters haven't come YET (maybe not this WEEK because of the snow?), so I don't even feel the index-end pressures that I did yesterday. ALL GREAT!