Things I don't like

Djokovic's face when he makes a point. (Palm in the air, like some sort of emperor)
His family in coordinated outfits. (Really?)
Not being good at tennis. (Never made an effort, but still)
Not being athletic in general. (By choice, but still)
A sunburned stomach. Ouch. (Own fault, which makes it worse)
Checking my email and having received nothing but spam. (Because of my shopping online. Note to self. Don't shop online. At least stores don't remind you of your reckless spending)
Going back to the city tomorrow. (Walking around in a bikini is simply not appropriate in a city environment)
Oil spills. (Still)
Gaza boat attack. (New)
Mosquitoes. (Since the beginning of time. They can become extinct and nobody would care. Sorry to say it, mosquitoes, but you have only yourselves to blame. )
Writing. (The thing I'm supposed to write. Always.)

What I made today

Fresh tomato sauce:
Slice two whole heirloom tomatoes in half and put them in a pan. Put the pan on the fire.
Let the tomatoes cook in their own fluids for about twenty minutes.
When they get softer, add olive oil, basil, garlic, pepper and salt.
Wait another thirty minutes or until the mixture becomes a fluid mass of deliciousness.

Yes, I am aware that this might be easier to do than boiling or frying an egg. And yes, I happen to be very good at boiling and frying eggs.
But it was Sunday night, the end of May, and it was time for something new.

The day Dennis Hopper died

I sat in the train with hopped up teenagers heading for the beach talking about the Talking heads and dyeing a dog's hair purple or neon green depending on availability. I looked forward to seeing the ocean and breathing in the salty air as deep as I could. It didn't disappoint.

Tennis nails

When Serena Williams was injured for a while and couldn't play tennis, she taught herself how to do nails. In an interview today she said she likes rhinestones the most, but decided to go for metallic colors for her third round tennis game at the French Open. Now that she finished her game early (she won, easily) she said she looked forward to going back to her room to change her polish, even though it wasn't necessary just yet (the nails looked perfect). Then she smiled a shy smile. She was a completely different person all of a sudden.
I wondered which of her personalities, the fierce aggressive tennis player or the nail polish girl, was acted out and which one was real. Maybe it's possible to be both at once. I'd definitely like to think there is an aggressive tennis player hiding underneath all my blushing, nail polish and flowery summer dresses. She's just shy and doesn't like to come out much.

Things I did today

Dragged a big box, with a chair inside, from UPS to my house on my bike. The bike almost fell over several times.
I got two pity glances from passerby's. I appreciated them. My guess is that they were from Alabama. I could be wrong.
Laundry, two loads. Mostly clothes I won't need in the summer. Like socks.
Groceries, breakfast things mostly. My sister drank some of the orange juice before her interview at a gallery. She was nervous, it calmed her down.
I met with a director friend. I had a beautiful cappuccino. It had the shape of a leaf on it.
Bought sandals. Cause I don't want to wear socks anymore.
Spoke to my mother for twenty minutes about future plans, Federer at the French open and the Eurovision song festival. Apparently Holland didn't do very well.
Then I took another shower.

A movie

Favorite lines from 'Mother and Child' by Rodrigo Garcia:
Pregnant woman interviewing adoptive parents: Are you always this honest?
Adoptive mother: The truth is easier to remember.
The movie showed the painful realities of adoption as a big pile of sadness with a few rare glimmers of hope. Then I shared a chocolate mousse with my sister. It was excellent.

El Moustache

Yesterday I went to the Spanish birthday party. After some wine, sangria and paella one of the guests, who looked remarkably like Charlie Chaplin, decided to draw on everyone's faces with a burned cork. I received a very defined uni-brow. Charlie Chaplin said it looked beautiful and I should consider it for my day to day life. Everyone else received mustaches. My sister's thin mustache was perfectly curved with the shape of her lip, her girlfriend looked like a musketeer, there was someone who looked like Shakespeare, and another friend looking like an aging pedophile. After a while we forgot what we looked like and continued our conversation about Spanish painters, TV shows about people smuggling drugs and my secret wish to go to gardening school.

My exterior as of today

Today I'm wearing cut off jean shorts and a black and white striped T-shirt. Yesterday blue shorts with white polka dots. The day before a black pencil skirt and white sneakers. I cut my bangs yesterday, they're very short, the rest of my hair comes down to 3 inches over my shoulder. Braided.
Wearing a gold fortunate cookie necklace.
It's been humid and hot. Two showers a day don't seem to solve that problem.
Also, the orange red nail polish has started to chip off my toe nails.
I have one pimple on my forehead.
I also have sweaty palms and sticky legs.
My finger nails are incredibly clean and regular length. That's positive news.

On soccer

Today we watched the champions league final between Inter Milan against Munich on a big screen at a west side pier. On the other side of the field New York hotels and magazines were represented by small soccer teams and played in a tournament against each other for tickets to the world cup.
Munich lost. A German friend said it was the worst day of his life and he would never like soccer again. Ten minutes later he went on to cheer for a random team playing on the field next to us. We had to stop him from attacking a referee.
Although not a big sports fan, I'm never opposed to free hot dogs, booing (Schwalbe!) and, even if it's brief, solidarity with complete strangers.
Then I watched a movie with Al Pacino on Jack Kevorkian, one of the first American doctors to advocate euthanasia.
My favorite lines:
Religion fanatic: Don't you have a religion? A god?
Jack: Oh yes. I do have a god. His name is Johann Sebastian Bach. And at least my god is not invented.
To some people a Bach symphony might have a similar effect as a well played soccer match. Diego Militio definitely has the fitting legs of a demi god as far as I can tell.

Bridge

Last night I cycled to Williamsburg, over the Williamsburg bridge, had cheap tacos (at La superior) with an old friend who had just dyed his hair bright pink, then cycled back to the west side to have drinks at the Jane hotel.
(Dinner conversation: Pink: So are you doing it with anyone? Me: No. And I don't like anyone either if that's what you're going to ask next. Pink: Maybe you're a lesbian. Pink's friend who joined: No, she's waiting for someone special. That's definitely a hetero female thing to do.)
At Jane Hotel I had a discussion with someone on whether it is more difficult to bike from Brooklyn to Manhattan or the other way around. Apparently bridges are never built completely equal on both sides, so it is more steep, and therefore more difficult, to cycle to Brooklyn. Or to Manhattan. I forgot what he said, but I remember disagreeing.
In my experience you quickly forget how much effort it takes to bike to the middle, once you can stop peddling and let yourself go. I once heard that the body exudes certain hormones after childbirth to make you forget the pain you suffered. All you feel is utter exhilaration.
Maybe humans are programmed to block out any suffering once there is no need for it anymore. When the suffering doesn't compare to the joy it has led to.
Yes, I just compared cycling up a bridge with giving birth. And no, I have never given birth.
I woke up with a hangover and forgot what was so fun about last night. I guess this theory works both ways.

Back and Forth

For some reason I have always wanted to sit on the subway for the entire route without getting off, only to return to the stop where I got on. I would only have to do it once. Just to see what people come in where, how and why. Yesterday I was on the subway with a group of teenage kids from the Philippines. One of the boys had a girl on his lap, I assume it was his girlfriend. He held her tight, as if he was afraid she would change her mind about him, get up and drop herself on one of the other boys laps. She didn't seem to mind.

The contents of my handbag as of today

Red wallet(comme des garcons), not a lot of dollars
Brown notebook, random comments, notes and doodles
Lease renewal for 336 Canal street, signed today
3 flyers for theatrical performances, none of which I will attend
Ticket stub to the Creditors at BAM, held onto it because I liked it
My passport, should make a copy
Spare keys for my old bike lock
Trident White gum, not sure it's working
An empty metrocard
Receipts for things I forgot I bought (shorts, groceries)
Receipt for lunch at cafe select
4 pens, 3 functioning ones
Coins, pennies mostly
A novel, Lolita, never gets old.

Une femme est une femme

Things I liked about this:
Red stockings.
'Is this a comedy or tragedy?'
'So are we not talking? -No we are not talking.'
'Women who don't cry shouldn't be allowed to exist.'
Anna Karina.
White apartments.
Paris. (Always)
Strip clubs where women wear sailor suits and feather headbands.
Communicating through book titles.

Dream

If I don't set an alarm clock I always wake up at 9:33 am. Then I tend to turn around and sleep for another hour or so.
That's usually the hour with the craziest dreams.
Today I dreamed that my brain got sucked out and I was walking around with an empty skull.
It was strangely refreshing. Everything felt light and breezy.
I woke up with a headache and a stuffed nose. Perhaps my dreams are telling me to vacuum.

Bike

I got a new bike. It's blue and shiny and has glitters on the handle bars. It's given name is Breeze. To all the bicycle thieves: Please ignore.

A start

I'm starting to forget.
Yesterday I couldn't sleep because I remembered I was twenty five. Then I woke up and forgot again.
I hope in five, or ten, or twenty years, I will read this and remember what I was thinking on certain unmemorable days. On the days that didn't matter. What I liked on those days. Or didn't like.
Today I like:
Sleeping in.
Blue and white stripes.
Thinking about books I must read this summer. (Solar by Ian McEwan, new Phillip Roth)
The idea of taking pictures. (I looked out of the window and saw a group of people passing each other in the street, all carrying or wearing something blue. Then they all vanished in the crowd. I was too late, due to lack of working camera.)
Today I don't like:
Learning about twenty something year old's success on the internet.
Jealousy in general.
Finding out the man of my dreams has a girlfriend. And no, we have never actually met.
The fact that there is so much to do in New York in the city, and I'm sitting at home not doing any of them.
Being twenty five. And yes I am aware that next year I wish I was exactly that.