Month: January 2009

I was talking about the fire from the other night and someone asked which store was affected and I said the maternity clothes store. But when I uploaded the pictures, pictures I took, so not only was I looking right at the store, I was studying it to pick the shot I wanted, I saw that it was not the maternity store but the furniture/housewares store.

When I finished my last book about unsolved murder I decided that no one should be able to be convicted of murder without physical evidence (or an untainted confession, perhaps).  People simply do not make trustworthy witnesses.

I love that message in the window, The End of History, but what does it mean? A black hole is going to suck up our past? Oh wait, that’s the title of a book, right?

Some friends are getting kittens tomorrow and I’m going to takes pictures of owners and kittens meeting.  HEAVEN.

Ha! My friend Ruby (whose real name is Gail) pointed out that it was Phil in the mirror of the shot below, but she couldn’t tell who he was speaking to. It turns out it was her!!  That’s Ruby in the shot, making a point to Phil.

I so want to be a detective, except I want to be a geek-like detective, like the CSI people.  Except I’m working on my audio forensics piece (still) and there’s definitely an upsetting side, like there always is, to this kind of work.

But not at the moment!  It’s you, Ruby!! Ha!!

I was sitting on the couch with Lianne at my friend Ruby’s New Year’s Day party when I took this shot of Howard and Sandy. I just thought it was a cute boyfriend/girlfriend shot.

A few minutes before that Lianne’s husband, writer/historian Phil Dray and I were going over our favorite Barack Obama moments.  We’re all still just so happy about the election.  Phil’s most recent book, Capitol Men: The Epic Story of Reconstruction Through the Lives of the First Black Congressmen couldn’t have been timed more perfectly. I was trying to remember the piece he recently wrote where I learned a lot and I think it was this one in the Post.

So no New Year’s resolutions for me.  Who makes those anymore?  We all know better by now.  I saw there was an article in the Times about how people don’t keep New Year’s resolutions.  I didn’t read it.  I don’t need to.  I know.

I’m just going to hope I do or say fewer assholish things this year than last year.  That’s the most realistic wish I think I can make.  

Okay, who am I kidding?  I’m hoping this next book does really well. Do you want me to beg universe, because I can beg.  Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please.

I’ve been having trouble sleeping for the past couple of nights, but last night I get to sleep and what happens? Someone rings my door buzzer at 3 or 4 in the morning and wakes me up. People always ring us on the top floor when they forget their keys.  I guess because we’re the farthest away and they can run up the stairs and into their apartments before we can reach them to strangle them. As much as I hate it I always get up and let people in and never yell at them.  I was young and stupid once, too.  (Now just older and stupid.) But I didn’t last night.

I’m going to hell for that.  (I was sleep deprived!)

Then, an hour later I hear someone screaming in the street. There’s a fire in the building on the corner. First, no one was hurt. No ambulances.  But I take a movie, not knowing if it’s going to come out, but it does, except I turned the camera on its side, which screws up the format so it’s not usable.  

I learned this the last time there was a fire across the street, but I guess I was so tired I didn’t realize I was repeating the same mistake.