beulahbondo's Diaryland Diary

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Bluestockings and white stones

Got to spend some phone time with my sister, Nilla, this morning. She was relatively free as Prima was at kindergarten and Secunda is a placid little thing, for a redhead. I sent both girls Halloween cards (not the Boo-kakke kind) and Secunda now opens any book, magazine or piece of paper and pretends to read it, saying "Love, Beulah."

Later, as I was crossing the street from the laundromat to the coffee shop I ran into the Gorgeous Honeypot, who is back in town to do a degree in radical kinky feminist theology. I walked with her to the Div School, where she was late for a luncheon and a talk on Italian nativity cr�ches (for a few baffling minutes I thought she said "crushes"). In the remnants of my Halloween makeup, I felt like an interloper among the Div School bluestockings, so I scammed a glass of cranberry juice and went back to the coffee shop. I love the neighborhood around the Div School; it's so quietly eccentric and swank, you can practically still see T.S. Eliot and Henry James skulking around.

Just started reading Atonement, by Ian McEwan, and it is FABULOUS.

It makes me feel ashamed to have signed up for National Novel Writing Month, but I have, and I must produce 50,000 non-diary words by November 30. So must Nancy Drew!

Run, Kitty, run, and I hope the rain that just started here has left New York.

RIP Jam Master Jay. Not a thug.

4:40 p.m. - 2002-11-01

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