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Sunday March 18, 2001
"She's no chicken; she's on the wrong side of thirty, if she be a day." Jonathan Swift , Polite Conversation
birthday girl
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more rain and parties move indoors These kids are like our children. Thirty seems old to them and so very young to us. But they don't even look thirty. The birthday girl has many friends, young and old. Her husband cooks and offers mimosas. Kids run about and play. Outside it is raining hard and then it lets up. Before our next event, we stop at Book People. For those of you who aren't savvy Austinites, it is a book store that is independent. It is huge. It includes a coffee shop. They also sell crystals, sock monkeys, TShirts and retro liberal sentiment bumper strips. Even the bargain books seem to be a different selection than the chain stores have. There is a newstand with a huge selection of esoteric stuff. We enjoy spending a few minutes looking but we don't buy anything. Then we head to Gordon Fowler's art show. The paintings and all his friends are crammed into the studio because it is too wet outside. We talk a bit to Johnny, Jeffrey's waiter and art aficionado. He says his friend Julie Speed recently sold a friend of his a painting for $40,000. Gordon's are nice and not that expensive but nothing calls out to me to own it. (Plus we have no empty walls. When we buy something, something else must go.) Either this morning or yesterday morning, I had one of those 'lost possession' dreams. This one was odd because everything I had was in this wooden box that was sealed and shrink-wrapped. Only I mean everything so I had to open this well-sealed container to find my wallet. In dreams of this sort, in my experience, the wallet wouldn't be in there. But it was. After our events, we go home and enjoy a cup of coffee from the Capresso, reading and playing with our computer projects. FFP watches The Sopranos. If only the weekend were longer.
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