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damn good eggplant burrito
Saturday, November 8 2014
Late this morning, I snuck off without the dogs (I think Ramona was down in the greenhouse enjoying the sun) and drove to the Wall Street house. I had to do a little more finessing of paint that could not be matched before Deborah arrived to take pictures of the inside of the house so we can market it to potential renters. When she arrived, Deborah launched into one of her obsessive tears, in this case about how awesome the house is and a sudden idea she'd had to perhaps move into it. She's sick of the mold, high heating bills, and unfortunately-remote location of her current place in Olive Bridge. As she took pictures (and I tried to install a toilet paper holder in the new bathroom without adequate tools), she kept chirping on and on about how great the house was, and at some point ran off to get her phone so she could message Gretchen about possibly renting it. She was serious about it, though she also wanted a deal on the rent, so I said I would have to talk it over with Gretchen.
Back at the house, Gretchen eventually called me to discuss the Deborah thing. We agreed we could rent it to her for $1200/month, which was $100 less than we'd hoped to get. But it would be worth that much to us to have a friend there instead of some stranger. By this evening, Deborah had agreed to those terms, though Gretchen gave her a night to sleep the decision.
For food today, I mostly feasted on a mix of eggplant, mushrooms, and onions that I fried up late this morning. In a whole wheat tortilla with refried beans, that makes a damn good burrito. So I wasn't hungry when Eva sent me an email inviting me over for what would probably be gluten-free meal. I made up some story about why I couldn't come, but then later decided I actually did want to visit. So I snuck off without the dogs again, drove over to Eva and Sandor's place in West Hurley, and hung out for several hours with them, Dawn the lighting designer, and an older interior designer named Mark. Eventually we played that game Cards Against Humanity that they love there, though I was finding the choices in my hand consistently lacking in the kind of subtlety I prefer to use in my personal expression. I was a bit too intoxicated to be driving home at the end of the evening, but I did so anyway. Though I was trying to act sober, Eva could sense that I was a marginal case and asked me to email her when I made it home. The dogs, who'd been snuck off on twice today, were waiting for me at the end of the driveway when I arrived.
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