May 13, 2002

Yesterday's discoveries:

This, this; the existences of this, this, and this; and this bit of horrifying news.

Last night's dream:

Two ex-boyfriends, two friends of ex-boyfriends, and my dad: We're all in a tacky, run-down diner on the ground floor of a dilapidated Manhattan office building. Our food takes an hour to arrive. Ex-boyfriend #1 is boring me with stories about his plans to travel to Alabama with the play he's doing. Ex-boyfriend #2's friend is singing karaoke to mid-'80s lite-rock. We've all forgotten what we've ordered, and when the food comes, mine is a turkey club deluxe. It's terrible.

My dad and I have been walking around Brooklyn in the rain all day, with no particular destination. We stop at a museum by the river, and a beggar starts following us, not giving up even after we furnish him with dollar bills. I remark that I never go to museums unless it's raining, and when I do, it's always raining when I come out. We talk about the possibility of stumbling into a couple of Polish jazz clubs after dinner, but it doesn't happen.