tepid

friday night i had a drink at the tasting room with dr. B--, a man who has rejected private practice to continue providing care for poor people with awful lung issues; a funny (sorta), nice (very), smart and progressive kind of a guy. when he arrived, we kissed on the cheek, shook hands and then sat so very far from each other at the bar there was room for two chess boards between us. i counted three awkward silences and eventually became so maniacally chatty i could barely recognize myself.

after he dropped me home i ordered a pizza, watched part of a naughty movie on cable (word to the wise: 'snow sluts' apparently shows there is an apalling lack of lube in the northern climes of europe), tried to be fascinated by 'van helsing' and crashed, missing a message from Wet Nacho who called to dispel the chilly loneliness of his own apartment on the northside.
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my alarm buzzed the next morning and i donned three layers to meet BC for breakfast and then a walk at the botanical gardens. with the temperatures hovering around 8 degrees, how lucky i was to find a cab idling outside my apartment building when i left. we beat the hipsters to the flying saucer, ate really thick pancakes, and then drove to the gardens just off the green el line. in the winter, the warmest place to be is a humidity filled greenhouse reading about palm trees, spathes, and flowering cacti. you can watch the koi gawp at the air or stand on a hidden path and, um, take a private moment. it was so quiet i could hear water dropping from the leaves to the bricks and paths below.
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BC and i made plans to meet for dinner and movie at my place later and i spent the rest of the afternoon at the movies and picking up a roast chicken for dinner. yes, i totally faked another dinner. yes, dammit! i fake dinner!
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it was also time to drag out the tree. it stood in our princess turret full, tall and handsome. it was naked but a pine smell still clung to the needles. so i wrestled the tree to the floor and pulled it through the apartment to the back stairs where it lodged between the wall and the landing, effectively stuck. but after being rescued by two workmen who needed to get to the roof, our tree finally rested in our dumpster. so our princess turrett is ours again.
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renting movies with BC - horrendous. he wanted to get 'repo man.' who wants to spend the night watching emilio estevez? yuck. so we compromised - fellini's '8 1/2'. i fell asleep three times.