saturday

late to awaken. generally lazy. off to the east bay for wine tasting in the afternoon with martin and jeremy. the rain and wind slowly strengthen throughout the day. we head back to their apartment and martin makes a wonderful and indescribable cheese pie with a thick polenta crust. more wine and then martin invents new drinks with saffron vodka. we try the tarragon vodka straight and it is suprisingly like absinthe. downstairs for a birthday party for their friend. bright tapestries, textiles and gigantic cloth banners adorn the entire place. martin compares it to fellini. little dogs running around. the hostess' parents befreind us in a matter of minutes, offering us a ride home. not long after martin pulls me out into the now gently dripping night. we cross the courtyard to the apartment manager's place for pot. martin tries to convince both me and the manager that i need to live there as we smoke. back to find angie and jeremy. i drag them back to the manager's apartment to play with the kitten. then back to the party. my back aches and I settle into the couch. soon, a large and very hairy dog curls up partially in my lap to sleep. I sit with him the rest of the night, slowly stroking his matted hide. we head home early because of the train schedule. at home, one last drink and we watch harlan county u.s.a. until angie falls asleep on my shoulder.

a thing we are missing: the night manager by hunter s. thompson