All Our Yesterdays

[I know I slept many hours last night, but don't feel particularly rested this morning. Absolutely epic dreams involving copping weed for my Contracts prof, starring in a porn with every cute Latin guy in Santa Barbara, and a long documentary about San Francisco's slums including a walk thru a gauntlet of young teens shooting up and smoking crack, after which I landed at my friend Sean's house, which was actually a grocery store along the lines of Whole Foods over on California Street. Damn Sustiva.]

[The parents are coming to the city tonight, and John, sis, they and I are going to dinner. Tomorrow, I'm off from school, so it's a matinee of Copenhagen at the Curran with Mom and Dad (I get a chance to survey Mariette Hartley's career at both ends, as it were, since Netflix delivered Marnie the other day)(I'll always remember her best in a sexy fur wrap, seducing Mr. Spock in the Arctic), dinner again, and a show at the friendly neighborhood cabaret.]

[Trying to finding lots of ways to distract self and boyfriend from the horrible domestic crisis that's come to a head: John's had to take the lead in asking Patrick to move out. No more four a.m. parties in the next bedroom. Not fun, especially their screaming match over the phone yesterday morning. Hm, hmm, I'm just washing dishes, gathering up my textbooks and leaving, don't mind me...]

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