"Boy, your breath is stinky. I love you so much."
Friday, March 19, 2004
Wednesday, March 17, 2004
Wearing of the.....
Like Jessamyn, I had a nasty run-in on St. Patrick's Day, but mine was when I was 5 YEARS OLD. Indeed, in kindergarten, I had a teacher aide, Mrs. O'Sullivan, who always called me her Irish Colleen. (Actually, I'm British--and Alsatian--but the red hair always throws them.) I turned up on this auspicious day in head to toe orange (a favorite outfit) and was not only soundly scolded and told off by this woman; she never spoke to me again.
Mamas, don't let your children grown up to wear orange on St. Patrick's Day?
Like Jessamyn, I had a nasty run-in on St. Patrick's Day, but mine was when I was 5 YEARS OLD. Indeed, in kindergarten, I had a teacher aide, Mrs. O'Sullivan, who always called me her Irish Colleen. (Actually, I'm British--and Alsatian--but the red hair always throws them.) I turned up on this auspicious day in head to toe orange (a favorite outfit) and was not only soundly scolded and told off by this woman; she never spoke to me again.
Mamas, don't let your children grown up to wear orange on St. Patrick's Day?
Sunday, March 14, 2004
Cybele's Cafe
When I moved back home to Buffalo the first time (1993; post-Seattle), everyone I knew was talking about Cybele's. (At first I thought they meant Sibley's, a downtown department store which closed soon after, ending the confusion.) I was 23, an age where I might easily spend a weekend pinging between the three Allentown hotspots--The Topic (long gone), The Old Pink (now older yet), and this funky restaurant named in honor of a goddess with no more than 6 tables and very, very strong coffee. I found their homefries to be the best in town.
Lo, these 11 years later, across two locations kitty-corner apart, I can easily say Cybele's has consistently been one of the organizing points in my life and my community. I can think of a no single occasion where I went there--for a little quiche & salad, a PMS-curing brownie, a large coffee before a drive to NYC, late night bread and wine and herb butter, a lush meal in celebration of darn near anytihng--and didn't met a friend. Indeed, I made many friends there, the staff the closest of all.
Cybele's closes tonight, an enormous loss for me and my community, which truly became a community through its being.
A few memories....
* Jazz at Cybele's Lounge on Thursday Nights....John Allen, Edgar Henderson and Emile Latimer.
* New Year's Eve 1998, when I dj'd
* My 30th birthday party was held there, an amazing night
* The afternoon Joseph and I broke up, after the tears & watercolors, we called several friends and spent the rest of the day drinking wine in the courtyard
* When I was working full time, I always went to breakfast there the Monday of any three-day weekend. I remember writing there, dreaming, and hearing Doug's sax solos emitting from the apartment above
* Doug's chile rellenos
* Mary's potato pancakes
* creamy parmesan dressing
* crepes with Cliff
* hungover lunch with Sean when he visited
* My 34th birthday dinner, 10 around the table....
***
In slightly more upbeat happenings, I checked out the Celtic Seishuns at Nietzsche's yesterday afternoon and found it wonderful. My dark, arty bar felt like a pub ("O'Nietzsche's!" Bill Fenzel dubbed it, in his green tie and Irish eyes, pouring Guinness after slow Guinness, each with a flawless shamrock on the foam), filled with musicians playing the prettiest, quiet Irish music ever. Instruments I don't even know the names of. This loveliness occurs each Saturday at 4 and I will surely go again.
When I moved back home to Buffalo the first time (1993; post-Seattle), everyone I knew was talking about Cybele's. (At first I thought they meant Sibley's, a downtown department store which closed soon after, ending the confusion.) I was 23, an age where I might easily spend a weekend pinging between the three Allentown hotspots--The Topic (long gone), The Old Pink (now older yet), and this funky restaurant named in honor of a goddess with no more than 6 tables and very, very strong coffee. I found their homefries to be the best in town.
Lo, these 11 years later, across two locations kitty-corner apart, I can easily say Cybele's has consistently been one of the organizing points in my life and my community. I can think of a no single occasion where I went there--for a little quiche & salad, a PMS-curing brownie, a large coffee before a drive to NYC, late night bread and wine and herb butter, a lush meal in celebration of darn near anytihng--and didn't met a friend. Indeed, I made many friends there, the staff the closest of all.
Cybele's closes tonight, an enormous loss for me and my community, which truly became a community through its being.
A few memories....
* Jazz at Cybele's Lounge on Thursday Nights....John Allen, Edgar Henderson and Emile Latimer.
* New Year's Eve 1998, when I dj'd
* My 30th birthday party was held there, an amazing night
* The afternoon Joseph and I broke up, after the tears & watercolors, we called several friends and spent the rest of the day drinking wine in the courtyard
* When I was working full time, I always went to breakfast there the Monday of any three-day weekend. I remember writing there, dreaming, and hearing Doug's sax solos emitting from the apartment above
* Doug's chile rellenos
* Mary's potato pancakes
* creamy parmesan dressing
* crepes with Cliff
* hungover lunch with Sean when he visited
* My 34th birthday dinner, 10 around the table....
***
In slightly more upbeat happenings, I checked out the Celtic Seishuns at Nietzsche's yesterday afternoon and found it wonderful. My dark, arty bar felt like a pub ("O'Nietzsche's!" Bill Fenzel dubbed it, in his green tie and Irish eyes, pouring Guinness after slow Guinness, each with a flawless shamrock on the foam), filled with musicians playing the prettiest, quiet Irish music ever. Instruments I don't even know the names of. This loveliness occurs each Saturday at 4 and I will surely go again.
Wednesday, March 03, 2004
Wednesday's Child is Full Of....
Tonight I went to the opening of Allen Street Hardware, a new wine - bar- cafe place on Allen Street. I was of the first wave of bohemians pressing into the crush of yuppies. Who knows how it will fare. (I doubt the yuppies will last through parking problems and the occasional stabbing.) I had an $8 glass of cabernet which I didn't like much. By the time I left, most of my bar cronies were there checking it out.
I am home for hot bath, incense, and the last of the Girl Scout cookies.
Tonight I went to the opening of Allen Street Hardware, a new wine - bar- cafe place on Allen Street. I was of the first wave of bohemians pressing into the crush of yuppies. Who knows how it will fare. (I doubt the yuppies will last through parking problems and the occasional stabbing.) I had an $8 glass of cabernet which I didn't like much. By the time I left, most of my bar cronies were there checking it out.
I am home for hot bath, incense, and the last of the Girl Scout cookies.
Monday, March 01, 2004
Dogster!
It was only a matter of time. Catser must be next.
Of course, I've already made Ms. Tail-Go a page.
It was only a matter of time. Catser must be next.
Of course, I've already made Ms. Tail-Go a page.
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