A bad weekend, again. I am slightly sick, still, or just recovering slowly - my throat feels scraped out with a steak knife.
Friday evening began with an interesting reading involving a new anthology about jealousy that features Ned V. and Marty Beckerman. Marty and I became friends a very long time ago, had a falling out some years back, and recently made peace.
Later on Friday, a beautiful woman said she didn't trust me anymore, and that was that: it's over.
She was wrong about what I did but she was right not to trust me.
Then I took the train home, and at 2 a.m. the trains run slow, so I had a lot of time to think about what kind of person I am.
On Saturday I lay in bed for a while and watched horror movies. Then I met up with Ned and Marty. We tried to go to the Holocaust Museum in Battery Park City but it was closed, so we went to see the movie Hard Candy, a tedious and terribly-executed thing, and then we played pool for a while, and then Marty came to my apartment for a while, and after he left I just went to sleep.
If I drank, which I don't, this would be a Lost Weekend.