so in love with Bourdain

Reconciled my checking a few days ago. On the first run through, I was $800+ off. That's bad when there's less than $700 in that account. Second time around, it balanced to the penny. It probably reveals something about my personality that I did it a third time. (Also a perfect balance.)

I'm in a strange mood today, even for me. A good friend is in sad circumstances that I can't do anything about. At the same time, I'm on pins and needles: a old friend is "stopping by" for lunch. He's on a long motorcycle trip, just passing through this state. We haven't seen each other in a decade. We went through an unspeakably embarrassing interlude during high school. (Looking back on it, I really wish I wasn't such a "good" diarist, or that I hadn't kept those journals!) It's a testament to our maturity, or maybe the mutuality of the embarrassment, that we're still friends. Maybe "friends again" is the better way to say it. I don't know that any friendship could survive something like that. Regardless, it does feel awkward to be happy/excited right now.

So. Anthony Bourdain. Holy crap. I'm about halfway through Nasty Bits, which I'm reading ever-so-slowly so I can savor it, and one of the chapters that I read last night had me grinning through tears. This guy is my soulmate. The section is called "No Shoes," and is about a vacation that he took, during which time (a couple of months, this is) he did not once eat in a restaurant that required footwear. If you know me face to face, you know why that would appeal so much to me; I almost never wear shoes, and lately I even have a good reason to leave them off unless they're absolutely required. I haven't worn socks since mid-June. Ahhh....

Hmm. I wonder if this long-standing appreciation for Bourdain is responsible, in some small way, for my immediate, intense attraction to another tall, lean, pierced, cynical, well-spoken, handsome, irritating foodie that I met in November?

I was invited to a party last night. In itself, not such revolutionary news. The strange bit: the invitation came from The Mumbler. At first I was under the impression that I alone had been invited, of the few 'close' friends he's made at work. Luckily, I was set straight on that point real quick. I'd have hated to have acted in reliance on that notion; a situation that can sometimes veer into awkwardness already would have almost certainly become uncomfortable.

In any case, I did not go to the party. Though I have no reason to think that my friend will be of a mind to critique my housekeeping skills, I've been cleaning my apartment pretty much nonstop since I got home from work last night. I even washed the top of the fridge. Excuse: he's tall; he would have seen any accumulation of high-elevation bunnies. Also re-piled the piles of files waiting (for what?) to be filed, next to my file cabinet. And washed my shower curtains. 'Cause that makes perfect sense.

It's taken me at least an hour to write what I've got here so far, which is totally ridiculous. I'm a little distracted. I think I'll go pace around the living room for a while.