07.01.03 - 6:08 p.m.

A telemarketer just called my cell phone. I am going to the Do Not Call website right now.

So, were Gregory Peck, Katharine Hepburn and Buddy Hackett the deaths that often happen in threes this time? And was David Brinkley just chillin' out with them, waiting for the afterlife exclusive? Or was it just two and two this time? Or are two more "legends" going to die and then we'll have a double whammy? All this speculating makes me dizzy.

The weekend with Moom was fine, once she made it to my doorstep. I don't even want to rehash it, suffice to say at one point she was in West Patterson and I thought she was dead on the side of the road.

Things we ate:
seared tuna and the most amazing chocolate flan at Dos Caminos
fondue at Artisanal
potatoes in my dining room
mussels and crab cakes at Punch
grilled corn and mozzarella cakes at a street fair on University Place
burgers, fries and grilled cheese at Johnny Rockets

Things we did:
hiked it out to Flushing Meadows to see the World's Fair site and the Dali exhibit at the Queens Museum of At
went to a sample sale
walked through aforementioned street fair
did self-guided tour of old Beat haunts in Greenwich Village
visited Dylan's Candy Bar, where we tasted vomit-flavored jelly beans
walked through Central Park at dusk
sweated a hell of a lot

Things we drank:
Grenache, copious cups of coffee and homemade lemonade in my living room
Dos Equis at Dos Caminos
Rioja and Vigonier at Artisanal
vin santo at the Gallo Nero
many martinis at Punch

What I did when Moom left: cried and took a long, long nap on the couch. And answered about a third of the NYT crossword puzzle! Woo!

What I will do for the rest of the week: the rest of the white laundry, work like a motherfucker, and drive to Lancaster to see my baby sister back from Scotland. And probably drink a lot in Johnstown, since that is how I cope with the pain.