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rue-madame's Diaryland Diary

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LA CA USA

There’s a gray tabby that lives in the building next door. I can see him in the mornings, sunning himself on the front porch. One of the windows in my kitchen looks out onto the neighbor’s, and when I make coffee I watch the cat stretch and bathe. It’s therapeutic. Across the street, there’s an orange cat who’s far less interesting for some reason. Maybe because he lives too far away and is not a part of my morning ritual? I’ve dubbed the gray cat Gray Cat (how creative,) and the one across the street, the B.O.C. (the Big Orange Cat) in honor of another B.O.C. from San Francisco.

I think I must have been a cat in a past life because I love just staring out the window, observing the people in my ‘hood. I love the fact that my apartment is in the front of the building and on the top floor. It’s the perfect perch. And I’ve already named the regulars on my street. There’s Smoking Guy, a guy who lives in the pink building, and who is always on the stoop smoking, talking on the phone. What a bummer to be a smoker and not be allowed to smoke in your own damn apartment. I’m not a smoker, and in general I find smoking a gross habit, but jesus, let a man have his vices already! But I digress. In that same pink building live Wagamama and her friend, The Housepainter. Wagamama is always dressed super cool in that japanese way, and her friend is always in paint-splotched pants that have a tape measure attached to one of the belt loops. The best character, though, is Super Beanie. He’s this crazy older guy with an overgrown yard, and he has lawn sales every weekend. He wears a beanie, but he wears it tall—so tall that the branches always knock it off his head when he ambles down his walkway. I’ve seen this happen (all from my lovely kitchen window) at least 20 times already. If it weren’t for this comedy, I would have dubbed him The Mayor because he seems to know everyone and everything that is happening on North Hayworth. Terence thinks there’s something really fishy about the merchandise that Super Beanie sells. He calls Super Beanie “The Fence.”

Have I mentioned that at least twice a week, there’s an ambulance in the Canter’s white zone? Not a good sign for those of us who like pastrami sandwiches and other high caloric deli treats. But I suppose if your number’s up, it’s better to go with a Reuben in your system. You don’t want to travel on an empty stomach anyway.

Friday night, I saw a preview of the digitally remastered E.T. They digitally enhanced color and sound, and some other things. For example, in the scene where the cops chase the kids all over the suburbs, the cops’ guns have been “digitally enhanced” into radios. In the scene where Elliott and Mike head out for Halloween, the mother says to Mike, “You’re not going out there dressed like a hippy!” In the original film, the mom says ‘terrorist.’ Mike very clearly does not look like a hippy. I find this totally offensive and stupid. I didn’t appreciate them PhotoShopping the WTC out of scenes in Zoolander either. We’re just going to erase the past now? Scary.

Last night I went to a party in West Hollywood, and there was a woman there wearing one of those silvery chain-mail-ish halters. Every time she leaned forward, I could see the packing tape she used to secure the top to her boobs. It was like a car crash—I could not stop staring.

1:24 p.m. - 2001-12-09

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