Dacia and I woke up early (after I stayed up until 3am building an evite, damn registration erasing the hour and a half of culling email addresses). I hauled the three year accumulation of good will donations from the mountain in the hallway, into garbage bags, down the stairs, and in to the car. Dropped Dacia off at the train. Donated the clothing at the drop off dumpster. Hit Blockbuster. Ran through the discount store for disposable plates and new fans. And bought all the groceries for the party (although i forgot sour cream for the multi-layered bean dip). All before 11:30am.
I then bought a turkey sandwich and a lemonade and took a nap.
Woke up at three to reserve a rental car for apartment hunting in houston, screened for a houseboy, and reserved a camp site and tickets for whale watching with Dacia on my birthday. Took a shower and responded to RSVPs, and shifted more furniture around the apartment. My goal is to only need to buy ice and get a pedicure on Saturday.
Then I hopped a train for Manhattan to the John Frieda salon, with a quick laptop handoff to the roommate who now lives with a boy. Got my first haircut in three years and first long cut (not chopping it off to the earlobes) since I was 13. I will be wearing my hair down with my graduation cap. It was an apprentice cut so the student did about two thirds while the expert demonstrated techniques and guided the cut. I have curly layers. The curls on the side of my face made me feel like farrah fawcett walking in the wind.
The haircut took longer than I anticipated. I ran downtown only to show up at Bluestockings after the reading had ended. Everyone was standing outside the store. Michelle Tea was surrounded by a crowd and a cloud of smoke. I went in the store (which is currently a book store without books due to their awesome renovation which includes a pepto pink bathroom) and chatted with one of the owners I know from dyke knitting circle. I kept looking outside at Michelle Tea but just couldn't approach her. Finally, I slunk away without making so much as eye contact, my exhaustively underlined and perpetually unsigned copy of Passionate Mistakes and Intricate Corruption of One Girl in America burning a hole (hole of shame) in my bag.
Then I accompanied the newly tonsil-less neighbor to meet a myspace friend around the block, which involved socializing for another hour and a half. Now I'm going to lay around in my panties, knit, and watch The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou.
I am super Jane and I am exhausted.