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Whenever I pass a dog run I stop and watch the dogs for a while, especially when there’s a French Bulldog among them, which I can pretty much count on these days. They are one of the “it” dogs currently. Love these little guys. But when I get a dog I’m still getting a chihuahua. I need a dog I can easily carry up and down five flights.

I’m on a mini-vacation, but I haven’t really been vacationing much. Haven’t seen a movie, gone to a gallery or museum, read a book. What have I done?? One day I bought a really delicious sandwich (Note to self: go back to that place) and sat on the Hudson River and ate it while reading a decent book. That was what, two hours out of a whole week?

Seriously, I’ve got to get down to vacationing-business. Forget a movie today. Now there will be weekend crowds. Same with museums. Maybe I’ll try learning a song on the banjo? Or, go back to the sandwich place and then sit in Union Square and relax?

I cooked! I know, ‘what do you want, a medal?’ But I don’t think I’ve cooked in decades. I took a class though, and then last night I started with the simplest dish, which also happened to be my favorite and voila! I made a meal! It’s called Lebanese Quinoa Tabbouleh with English Cucumber. It probably barely counts as cooking since the only thing I had to cook was the quinoa, which was simple. The rest was cutting stuff up and adding it.

The plan is to keep with really easy stuff so I don’t get discouraged, and the next thing I’m going to try will be equally simple. I’m thinking something called a Mediterranean Pasta Salad, which is the same kind of deal. Cook pasta and throw chopped up stuff in.

I’m feeling so empowered I might pull out my banjo and get back to trying to learn how to play it! During my mini-vacation here. If I do I’ll make a little film of my first song.

Notice how I notice all the sad things? I noticed this on Bleecker Street, just a few blocks from me. It’s sad for so many reasons:

1. Gary is dead.
2. I don’t know who he was and if you google him, he doesn’t come up.
3. Hudson Street Papers is long gone.
4. They call it a garden, but it’s a tiny patch of earth surrounding a tree, and while some people maintain these tiny, tiny patches of earth as gardens, no one is maintaing this one. There one was strewn with garbage.
5. The sign is starting to deteriorate.
6. We all must die.
7. And be forgotten.
8. And any signs of us will eventually deteriorate and disappear, too.

Hey, but at least he was loved when he was around and people cared enough to erect this sign. I was in the doctor’s office this morning, with a bunch of women, all of us waiting to have a “women’s” thing done, and I had a nice chat with a woman who was 93. Maybe we’ll all make it to 93!

I’m on vacation now! Maybe I’ll watch Big Brother feeds for a while. I’m a Big Brother fanatic.

Update: I got this email from a friend of Gary’s who gave me permission to post it. It makes me wish again that I had known Gary.

From: Nick Phillips
Date: Wed, 8 Jan 2014 19:11:57

Dear Stacy,

Came across your blog re Gary Brush garden memorial in NYC.

I was a great friend of Gary and his late partner Gary Nemkowich who was an ex of mine. I stayed in their apartment several times when in NY either performing with Bloolips or studying for my Doctorate in Musical Theatre. We played hard and shared some legendary Dynasty parties, memorable Hallowe’ens, long disco nights and so much love and laughter. Believe me, he would have been the first to appreciate the garden and yet also would share your more existential thoughts on our inevitable end. Thanks for noticing. I smiled so hard on seeing your blog and
my heart swelled with love and pride for his life. Thank you.

Dr Nick Phillips (name in Bloolips gay theatre troupe – Naughty Nickers. Won an OBIE in 1981!)

I took this picture only a couple of weeks ago, walking home through Central Park. I was happy and at peace, staring down into a stream, which happens to be one of my favorite things in the world to do. Just stare and stare and stare into a stream. I fantasize about having a small house on a stream some day.

I’ve been working day and night, getting this book ready to send to my editor tomorrow, and even though I could probably get a good eight more hours in I think I have to stop. There are always things that could be made better, but I don’t think I can do them now. I just “fixed” one part and actually made it worse, and thank God I still had the earlier version. It’s just so hard to stop trying when it’s still not perfect. That said, I am pretty freaking thrilled with it. The stories I managed to find! I’ve said it a million times, but I can’t believe I’m getting to tell this story.

Thank you Howard Mittelmark for helping me with the end. Thank you Eleanor Mills and Zach Elder at the Special Collections Library at Duke for hunting down that letter for me at the very last minute and in time to include it.

Okay, I’m going to stop now. This is me stopping. Nope, I’m not working any more. I’m going to lay on the couch and watch Flip This House and How Do I Look? for the rest of the day.

The word back from my agent about the first draft is fantastic. Of course it’s a first draft, and she has suggestions, but overall she thinks it’s great, and my editor will love it. I’ll be working from now until I hand it in to my editor on Monday. I want to implement a few of the suggestions my agent made.

Here’s a Buddy Extreme Close-Up. I have a friend who says cats don’t have expressions! INSANE. Or did she say we just don’t know what they mean? That I would half agree with, except over time you do learn what each expression means — it’s no different than learning any other language. This one means, “I will not rip your face off if you pet me now.”