Alright. Because during an excellent conversation with Teddy, an old college chum, who told me "I haven't read anything in your blog of late," and others have hinted the same (okay, two, but anyway) here I am, ashamed as ever to be keeping any secrets from folks. So here's what I've been doing/saying/thinking/seeing...

The other day I watched several mothers tote their children (in strollers) down the subway stairs and back up again. Whoever called women the weaker sex didn't see this.

I did that suicide run in front of cars again. I have also done the dash into the subway doors mindless of the doors or the slippery floors beneath.

I felt like a real NYer the other day when someone dissed Tom and I talked to my friend, Kansas, about kicking that fucking bitch's ass. Of course I didn't.

I sent off my last (well maybe last) application to grad school, my FAFSA, etc. this week. I don't know if I have mentioned it here, but I'm applying for an MFA in writing. One of those millions of wannabes in this city I am sure. I don't know what to do with myself now. All this hawking of my writer's wares has made me somewhat weary of words. I'll need to get over that. I have a couple stories just hanging in limbo. And I haven't tried to get them out.

well, it's been awhile...

let's see what's happened: the other day I was riding the subway across from this guy who appeared to be sleeping when I sat down. I didn't pay attention to him until he began to take off his left shoe. It seemed innocent enough, as he scratched his foot like anyone else. Then he took off his sock and began scratching his feet. At this point I pretended to be asleep and watched him through a veil of eyelashes. He began rubbing his fingers between his toes--and--ate the junk he came up with!! I stared at him in that horrible fascination, the ambulance on the side of the road stare.