Tuesday Morning, January 30

1) What does it say that, on the 28th anniversary of my first day of work at ye Instyttyte (yesterday), I was home sick?

1a) It's odd to think I've spent almost half my life at ye Instyttyte and to think of how it, and I, and life in the workplace in general, have changed. The IBM Selectric typewriter that was on my desk on my first day of work is long gone. We've grown in sophistication enough to stop entertaining in "the Soviet splendor of Lobby 13." And I really am the last man left who consistently wears a coat and tie . . . and even I am weakening in that area. (I knew 20 years ago that Casual Friday was the Thin End of the Wedge, and said so. And here we are, in a world where . . . whargarbl . . . and get off my lawn!

2) This morning, up at 5:15 AM after two three-hour blocks of sleep, candlelight coffee and devotional in the parlor, dining room breakfast, and now back in bed with more coffee to write for half an hour. Feeling much better.

3) Tonight, something completely different (for me) to continue starting the New Year: Postmodern Jukebox at the Wilbur! I could count on one hand the number of Concerts of This Sort I've attended in my life, and I'm really looking forward to this.

Saturday, January 27

1) You never know where the news will take you, and after reading this article about fake followers on social media in the Times, I ended up spending time on ye Twyttyr blocking obvious bots from my followers.

2) In a similar vein of purging, an embarrassingly large pile of mail has now been reduced to an embarrasingly large bag of shredding.

3) After an afternoon of lazy domesticity that didn't include bathing, here's nothing like discovering that you have only 70 minutes, and not 100 minutes, to get to the barber's. Made it with 15 minutes to spare (thank you, MBTA), tubbed and scrubbed, and my hair now looks fabulous.

BONUS: Surely there's a group of drag hairdressers somewhere known as the Coif Drops.

Saturday Morning, January 27

1) Awake just before 7 AM, and almost immediately started ploughing a barren furrow in my mind about a work issue, almost like "the little formless fears" that pursue the Emperor Jones through the jungle. Some exceptionally good chicory coffee, morning devotional, and email correspondence are pulling me out of that place, though.

2) There is so much &^*% in this house!

3) The horror of discovering that your clean laundry has been on top of the dryer in the basement for at least four days.

Wednesday, January 24 - Quotes of the Day

1) “Somehow this feels like constituent services for a political office.” - one of my volunteers, after I helped her interact with a classmate who needed information. Yup, that's my job.

2) "In the Senate you will find two parties . . . Each of these parties will now try to get you on their side. One the one, you will find honest people, if of limited intelligence. On the other, I think more long-range plans are harbored . . . The Senate has been established for the carrying out of laws prescribed to it. But it has often issued laws itself, granted ranks, honors, money and lands, in one word . . . almost everything. Having once exceeded its limits, the Senate now finds it difficult to adapt itself to the new order within which it should confine itself." - Catherine the Great, quoted in her biography by Robert K. Massie

3) Dialogue at Doyle's tonight:

Random patron (gesturing to the back room, where a large group is having a meeting): "And they go through two kegs!"

Me: "That's all?"

Random patron: laughs.

Wednesday Evening, January 17

1) Today I started Robert K. Massie's biography of Catherine the Great, and I keep having flashbacks to the few scenes I've seen of Marlene Dietrich in The Scarlet Empress.

2) Big about face in the evening. No, I did not work late or go swim, or even go to the supermarket. I got a call on the bus, and my friend Chris, who is moving to San Francisco next week, had dinner with me at Doyle's. Really, really good to catch up.

3) Look what I got in the mail tonight! From my friend Danny's Do Better Box.

Tuesday Evening, January 16

1) Today was a day for two good ideas: a) a way to create a nice experience for two of my volunteers, and b) a speaker suggestion for a program a colleague runs.

2) At an after-work gathering, I got information that did, and didn't, surprise me. #vaguebooking

3) I'm going to have to learn some more about whataboutism.

BONUS: I actually posted something directly on ye Fycebykke at midday, and it highlighted what I miss by personal blogging: likes and comments. That might be the only thing I really miss about ye Fycebykke.

Tuesday Morning, January 16

1) Yesterday evening I had all the neighbors in for a glass of Champagne to celebrate the completion of the construction phase of the third-floor kitchen and bathroom renovation. It might have been the first time that 75% of the building's children were in my home, and I got to see live the routine that goes on over my head most mornings. With all the doors open, the traditional layout of a tripledecker does lend itself to the idea of an oval racetrack, so there was some racing about. But the children were also fascinated (I choose the word carefully) with sitting on the cedar chest in the dining room and with my head-popping Marie Antoinette action figure.

1a) Mercy no, of course I didn't give the children Champagne! :-)

2) Gluttonous leads to glutinous, not gluteus.

3) This morning I was up at 5:15 AM. Candlelight coffee and devotional, breakfast, social media - and now at 7 AM I'm ready to go back to bed! Energy up, buddy - you have a full day today.

Martin Luther King, Jr. Weekend 2018

1) It's Monday morning, and I'm realizing that yesterday, Sunday, was almost a tech sabbath: zero time on ye Fycebykke and ye Twyttyr, minimal time on ye Flyckr, two texts, two phone calls. I spent most of my time listening to episodes of the podcast You Must Remember This.

1a) This doesn't really mean I've become a recluse. I gathered with a group of friends Friday night, met someone else for a late lunch Saturday (after the temperature had dropped significantly), and had a couple other friends over for a very small poverty pasta on Saturday night. All necessary and good social interactions.

2) Baltasar Gracián's The Art of Worldly Wisdom is one of my devotional books (I discovered it on the sale rack at the MFA bookstore several years ago, before the new east wing opened, and was so impressed that I gave a copy to a friend for Christmas one year), and I was struck by part of #120 when I was reading Saturday:

"Ways of thinking change, and so does taste. Don't think like an ancient; taste like a modern . . . When you must, follow the common taste, and make your way toward eminence. The wise should adapt themselves to the present, even when the past seems more attractive [emphasis mine], both in the clothes of the soul and the clothes of the body . . ."

That brought me up short, since we all know I've made a bit of a joke of ignoring anything that happened after I was born - and also in my anxiety not to look like "mutton dressed as lamb." The aphorism goes on to specify that goodness is timeless. I rather think I need to do a better job of blending the ancient and the modern.

3) It's snowing! Later today I will have to get out and shovel, since I'm the Owner on Premises this weekend. I have such a long list of things to do this weekend, and yesterday I paid attention to almost none of it. This must be why Mother raised us on "Never put off til tomorrow what you can do today," because you never can tell what's going to crop up.

Thursday Morning, January 11

1) This is the second morning running when I've awakened at ~4:30 AM after five solid hours of sleep and pushed the alarm clock to 7:00 AM when 6:00 AM clearly was not going to be possible.

2) Remember this video? I want you to watch it again, and remember a time when ye Fycebykke was fun. Wow, this was created in 2009!

3) Gotta hop to it!

Wednesday Night, January 10

1) Quote of the Night: "Last week was so cold and depressing I had to translate everything into Kelvin." - one of my volunteers in tonight's committee meeting

2) Quote of the Night II: "Compelling brevity." Me, responding to the (humorously) suggested email text of "See complete schedule posted here."

3) I am now going to force myself to go swim.

Wednesday, January 10

1) Instead of funding a campaign to make English the official language of the nation, why not fund free English lessons so more people acquire the knowledge to speak it on a daily basis? Seems like a more positive way to achieve the same goal.

2) Designing a website that encourages everyone to "browse and explore" is bull. People want what they want, and they want to find it easily. Period. Keep it simple!

3) I promise I'm actually finding some positive aspects of the day; it's not all Get Off My Lawn Guy here in my (overheated) cubicle. After a sleepy commute, some wonderful email interactions with volunteers indicate progress on an important issue. So yay for that!

Tuesday, January 9

1) Two odd similarities between yesterday's morning commute and this: a) on the train I was standing in front of a seated man playing a Tetris-like game on his smartphone; and b) the CT2 was late (depending on who you ask), but which caused me not to miss it.

2) This afternoon I got notice of three deaths, all very different personalities, two old, one quite young. One distinguished, one irascible, one quite young. I wasn't close to any of them (no need to offer condolences), but it does make one think about the impact one has in one's life.

3) Issues, sharing, feelings. Or, to coin a phrase, "You know my resistance is low."

Monday, January 8 - Back to Work

1) Yesterday I wore a thin dark gray pullover sweater to the office, and so did two other male colleagues. While hardly the time to start singing "My Irresistible Paris Original," it does rather indicate that some color is needed at the office this winter. #thinkpink

1a) Actually, I wore with it a large bow tie covered with pink flowers, a birthday gift last year from Original Boss. Hard to think that the end of this month is the 28th anniversary of my starting to work for him.

2) After essentially three weeks away, it's great to have a staff luncheon to welcome a new colleague. It's a little less great to have a volunteer committee meeting, but at least it's one of my favorite committees.

3) January is always busy, so I'm really going to have to focus on shifting gears back into work mode from life mode. December 19 and my extra-long layover at DFW on the way home for Christmas feel so very long ago right now. That means a lot happened to think about, to "ponder in one's heart."

New Year's Resolutions for 2018/Sunday Night, January 7

NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS

Some years I decide to New Year's resolutions, and sometimes I don't, but this year a couple of them appeared spontaneously - and I think that's a good thing:

1. Substitute podcasts for familiar (and unfamiliar) old movies. When I'm cooking dinner or washing dishes or puttering around the house, I'll often put on an old movie as a/v wallpaper. (Prominent newly-discovered old films of 2017 include Island in the Sun, The Opposite Sex, Blanche Fury, and Pursuit to Algiers.) And that's great, but it's ploughing a deep furrow even deeper. Podcasting is something I need to explore for a few different reasons, so I'm going to make the commitment to tune in actively during my domestic time. And how awesome that I can start with Christina Wallace's The Limit Does Not Exist! I welcome your recommendations.
2. A. Respect my time. Wow, that sounds vague! What could that possibly mean? It means dedicating time for creativity and honoring that time by being present for it. Present how? By not cancelling or rescheduling it for a better offer, and by approaching that time with a clear head, ready to go.
3. B. Respect my time. Having a daily schedule sounds so great in theory, until a) the alarm clocks goes off, or b) I realize I'm still not asleep and it's two hours before I have to get up. I keep saying I want to begin the day with a devotional (and quite possibly with sit-ups and pushups), but I don't do it consistently. Let's see how a dedicated start time each morning works for the next month.

Yeah, that's it. The rest - losing weight, eating right, returning to yoga or something, actually going to swim, switching back to red wine from bourbon - feel less like resolutions than obligations.

SUNDAY NIGHT

1) One result of my New York trip: I've used 165 texts over my plan, so I'll be billed extra.

2) I feel pretty good about the column I wrote today, and getting some presents wrapped and thank-you notes written, and things like that - but not about all those dishes left in the sink.

2a) How odd, I got an unsubscribe request after I sent out my email update, and I have no record of that email address ever subscribing. And the list is in my own inbox. I do not understand!

3) Travis had referred me to the podcast You Must Remember This (I think other friends have mentioned it, too), and this evening I listened to an episode about Jane Fonda which I thought would be focused exclusively on Barbarella. Instead, it focused on the entire period of her life with Roger Vadim, including audio footage from a scene in They Shoot Horses, Don't They? And I was able to find the scene on the Yewtybbe, and I can promise you that I will never, ever, see that movie.

BONUS: If it's not my Fycebykke ad settings, it's deleting cookies. How concerned should I be about a cookie with an .ru suffix?

Sunday, January 7

1) Up before 7 AM, chicory coffee and devotional in the parlor, two loads of laundry, and dining room breakfast of a small cheese omelette.

2) Worked (still working) on a column through the morning - in bed due to the cold. Successfuly put of plans to go into town. Listening to the motets of Heinrich Schutz (a gift from a friend 20 years ago), the score of La Fille Mal Gardée, and an album of Cuban music.

3) Skimming my beloved Ellen Maury Slayden's Washington Wife for a remembered story to use in the column, and found today's Quote of the Day: "I see no occasion to love a President. It is quite enough to respect him - if he's respectable [emphasis mine]. To love a new man every four years is not seemly, and to say that you do is hypocrisy and cant."

New York New Year's Vacation, Day Last: Departure

1) Up at 7 AM after a reasonable night's sleep. I slipped into some clothes and downstairs to the lounge for two complimentary coffees to bring back upstairs. Those two coffees got me through packing my anvil case.

2) A bit after 9:30 AM I sallied forth in the bitterly cold streets, heading a few blocks down Sixth to meet my friend Travis for brunch at Rooftop Refinery. Passing Bryant Park (essentially a solid block of ice), I noticed half a dozen puffed-up pigeons fixed to the top of a subway vent.

3) In the next blocks, several tourist souvenir shops reminded me of the lyric from Chess "Trinkets in airports sufficient to lead them astray."

What better place for a bombogenesis breakfast?

4) Refinery Hotel looks quite posh, but the 13th-floor rooftop wasn't open until exactly 10 AM; my hopes of an early coffee at the bar were dashed, but I had to go all the way up to the 13th floor to discover that the elevator doors wouldn't open. So I ensconced myself with Daily Rituals in the chilly lobby and was able to greet Travis with open arms as soon as he walked in.

5) As it happens, and this might not surprise you, we opened the restaurant as the first breakfast patrons of the day. And I heartily advise you go, and go early! Trademarked Authentic Rustic Charm in spades, and a glassed-in rooftop flooded with sunlight (and sufficiently heated post-bombogenesis) and dotted with cushioned patio furniture made a charming way to start off a Saturday. We sat under an arbor ("I hope no one thinks this is a chupa!" I said) and discussed the development world and Life at Mid-Career and Patty Duke.

6) Travis walked me back to the Algonk, and then I underwent that half-hour when one is all packed and ready to go, but it isn't yet time to leave. A sense of deflation at having to depart, coupled with a shade of anxiety about making the proper connections. The floor seems very very flat, the ceilings very tall, the waiting both tiring and unnerving.

7) I checked out and crossed the threshold of the Algonquin, hoping to return soon, and made a chilly way to Times Square to catch the subway. Delighted to discover the elevator!

8) I'd thought about taking a taxi, but it turned out to be easy-peasy to get from the Algonk to Bean and Bean on 8th and 26th. And there I got to see Anthony (see above), one of my best friends from high school who I had not seen in far too long. Over hot beverages we talked about travel and mutual friends. When his friend Pedro joined us, then we talked of dance, Postmodern Jukebox, Puddles' Pity Party, and the weather. Particularly in relation to all the flooding in Provincetown.

9) Anthony and Pedro were off to the Whitney, and I wended my way, anvils in tow, to Penn Station, where I enjoyed a late lunch of salmon salad (with lardons of bacon, white beans, and wilted spinach - not really what I'd call a salad), wrote in my journal, and meditated on life.

10) Impulsively, I ducked into Perf****** and bought a bottle of 4711, which I haven't used in awhile. I forget where I first read about it - might've been Lesley M.M. Blume's Let's Bring Back - but it's something fresh for a bitter winter.

11) The waiting room was jammed, but eventually I found a seat next to a Woman Younger Than I who almost immediately asked what I'd gotten at Perf******. This led to a discussion of Marie Antoinette's perfumes and the book that came out a few years ago about her perfumer Fargeon. Since scent is clearly this young woman's thing (and she confessed as much) I think she's going to have a great time reading that book.

12) But I got a little uncomfortable when she asked to plug her charger into my laptop, even though I acquiesced. But by then it was almost train time, and I left the waiting room to stand with other travelers watching the board for a track assignment.

13) I ended up in conversation with another Woman Younger Than I and her very young daughter, who'd never been in Penn Station before. "Oh, this special circle of Dante's Hell!" I joked, to general laughter.

14) After the usual chaotic bustle down the escalator to board, I managed a seat in the quiet car (next to someone). I got some writing done, but my concentration was compromised. I was reduced to sorting bookmarks in my browser, which was at least productive.

15) I'd thought about taking a cab home from Back Bay Station, and then economically took the Ligne d'Orange anyway. Somehow I forgot that with all the bombogenesis snow, all the sidewalks might just not be ready for a rollerbag. So I ended up walking in the streets a bit, but got home safe and sound to a warm house with intact plumbing and shoveled steps and walks.

16) I'm happy now to be home for one full day before returning full time to the office. This little New Year's vacation was too brief, and I sure didn't get to see everyone I wanted to see, but I managed to do a lot anyway.

New York New Year's Vacation, Day Three: Museums and Friends

1) Alarm woke me at 7 AMish, and I got myself together to make the 10:30 opening of the doors at MoMA. I was particularly interested in seeing the Items exhibition.

1a) As this was an exhibition about fashion, I did choose the Insane Tibetan Dentist tunic, since it would be highly unlikely anyone else would have it on!

2) Spontaneity turned out to be a theme for the day. A textstorm yielded the delightful bonus of a companion, Darke, who I know through that madcap set in Provincetown who dress up for everything. I had not really picked up that he lived in New York in the first place!

3) Another fast omelette at the Red Flame while reading Daily Ritual, and off into the Arctic to MoMA. "Caution: Falling Ice" signs cordoned off part of the sidewalk on Sixth Avenue - and I could see the ice falling! I didn't linger to take a photo, but gallumphed down the stairs into the subway PDQ.

4) Emerging at 53rd, I was, unsurprisingly, quite early. I ducked into St. Thomas, which was right there, and learned about their new pipe organ. Then imagine my surprise at spotting a random MIT colleague at the intersection! I walked a block to catch up with him, then drifted back and was one of the first people into Uni*lo when it opened. And I found myself some long underwear there.

5) Early to MoMA just to get out of the cold. Thank goodness the lobby was open. I paced the (empty) labyrinth of cordons to get to the coat check, thinking of Shrek (go to 00:38.) They cleverly incorporated the pickup line into the labyrinth, too! I got my ticket and absorbed myself in Daily Rituals until Darke arrived, and then we blazed upstairs to view Items.

6) It took over an hour, but this exhibition really made me think about why we wear clothes the way we do, and how designers can sometimes impact our body image. And how wonderful to see ordinary garments - a pair of Calvin Klein briefs, a leather jacket, a balaclava, a T-shirt, a pair of chinos - treated as art, as incomparable design. So compelled was I that I ended up buying the catalogue.

The list of items considered in Items. Note where Pearl Necklace falls on the list.

Elton John's platform shoes.

A playful take on the guayabera. I would totally wear this to the White Party, but without those gigantic pockets at the hem.

A traditional Breton sweater with a novel new interpretation.

7) Darke had to race off to continue his day, leaving me just enough time to race through bits of the permanent collection to find some old favorites (I love the work of modern artists who've been dead about 75-100 years - Vuilliard comes to mind) and trivialize some others.

7a) Monochromes are nothing but enlarged paint chips. Discuss.

This is not my bedroom wall. It's a famous painting.

8) Off to luncheon with Jonathan, who I hadn't seen since a) his marriage and b) his move to New York. I emerged at West 4th Street, blinded by the sun and by the dazzling mirrored display of glass pipes at a smoke shop. I rather bungled the directions, but eventually got where I was going by asking a nice man running a newsstand.

9) Jonathan had chosen A.O.C. at Bleecker and Grove, a charming and practically empty French restaurant. We got to catch up on married life (his), professional life (mine), travel, creativity, and our beloved Gibson House Museum (which is how we met in the first place). I enjoyed coffee and one of the best club sandwiches I've ever had. I think the secret ingredient was the warm guacamole.

10) The afternoon was quite advanced by this point, and I had to get back to Museum Mile to the Guggenheim. This time I got to West 4th Street with no difficulty, and the pleasant young lady behind the subway counter was able to advise me with only a moment's hesitation, something like "Take an [insert correct train here] to Lexington, and then transfer to the 6]."

11) As I've aged, I've become less anxious (rumors to the contrary!) about transportation delays over which I have no control. As the subway lumbered uptown, I completely absorbed myself in Dailyt Rituals and not on the diminishing time I'd have to see the Guggenheim.

12) Why might this be important? Because at my age, I'm ashamed to say that this was my first visit to the Guggenheim. Yes, I made it to the one in Venice in 2013, but then I was really motivated by its location in the Palazzo dei Leoni, the former Venice home of that deranged madcap the Marchesa Casati. I'd never been to the Guggenheim. And I don't know why I didn't expect this, but I was disconcerted on struggling through the front door to see the place thronged with people. And it was already 3:30, and I was meeting my friend Saverio at 4ish, and I had to be back at the Algonk to meet another friend at 5!

12a) Anxious about the time, I recklessly ignored the signs that all bags must be checked and kept myself away from the coat room. I was relieved to escape later without having been chastised by a guard.

A large intestine has colonized the Guggenheim.

13) As it happened, the Guggenheim helped me out by not having a lot to compel my attention. Saverio has alerted me in advance to see the Albers exhibition, and I enjoyed going through it, witnessing this artist's celebration of color combinations and geometry. But then what was on display in the famous spiral rotunda was some bizarre postwar Chinese protest art or something, including a gigantic intestine spewing bicycles hung inside the rotunda. It was definitely one of those exhibitions that make me ask in high dudgeon "WHY is this Art?!"

14) Saverio and I were to meet in the café, which was really more a cafeteria, and small at that. A timely text led me to the counter by the windows, and there was Saverio, who I hadn't seen in many years!

15) And he quickly took me in hand, whisking me off to point out architectural elements of the interior and highlights of the permanent collection, all while we were talking and talking, catching up.

Fabulous presentation of a Brancusi, dahling.

16) Then he ordered me to get into my coat, and we sallied forth on an impromptu tour of nearby Upper East Side landmarks. First, exterior elements of the Guggenheim.

16a) Then the Church of the Heavenly Rest. I was thrilled to discover this, since in the novel Auntie Mame this is the church Gloria tells Patrick where her mother has always imagined her wedding taking place. (Only I would care about something like this. I admit it!) I always thought the church would've been in Mountebank-oh-it's-just-above-Darien-you'll-love-it.

16b) And then he took me on a lightning-fast tour of the Cooper-Hewitt to show off the meticulous restoration of the interiors. This was once Carnegie's house, and it's true - the restoration work is magnificent. Saverio even pointed out the former solarium, which is now part of the gift shop.

17) Then it was time for me to get into a taxi and hope I wouldn't be late. About 20 minutes later I bolted into the hotel and up to my room, dropped my coat, changed my shoes, and got settled in the lounge. And right about that time I got the text from my friend that he was cancelling.

17a) The time to have sent that text would have been one hour earlier.

18) So I consoled myself with a boulevardier cocktail, caught up on the news in the lobby, and then retreated to my room.

19) The rest of the evening passed in both annoyance and writing. As Hugh Grant once said in Four Weddings and a Funeral, "I think I should be where other people are not." But a good night's sleep did me a world of good.

New York New Year's Vacation, Day Two: Dinner and Nightcaps

1) Collapsing in my room for a NAP, I gave myself plenty of time to wash up and dress before a 7:45 dinner reservation. The question then was what to wear for "bombogenesis chic," dinner someplace nice in the aftermath of a significant snowstorm.

1a) Of course the terms of the evening, arranged by my friend Julien, had changed from "Let's get all dressed up" when the plans were made to "Wear whatever you want" when I asked his advice. Those two points are not necessarily the same thing. I'd brought a suit and tie; after some indecision, I rejected my Insane Tibetan Dentist drag and wore the suit without the tie.

2) Having gotten through the snowstorm during the day, I now had to get through a textstorm between 6:30ish and 7:45. It began with a text from a strange number along the the lines of "Everything is closed around here," and ended with the arrival of Julien at our table. Snug and warm in my hotel room, I was loath to leave too soon, but I also didn't want anyone in the party to feel awkward.

3) Hailed a cab on Sixth Avenue and headed to Columbus Circle, the location of a Restaurant Named After Me. I had no difficulty finding the place - it was right where the map said it was - but there was a wee bit of confusion in the lobby since the museum to which the restaurant is attached was closed due to the storm.

4) The elevator opened immediately into the lounge - no foyer or anything. Very hip swingin' airport lounge of the 1960s vibe, enhanced by trees of glowing purple flowers and clear plastic lounge furniture. A ninth-floor room with a low ceiling and a dark ambiance (no doubt to enhance the view), in the far corner a pianist and a bassist were making with the cool jazz. I was the first in the party to arrive, and I sank into a deep chair near the elevator to get comfortable with a manhattan, while continuing to receive texts.

5) A couple sips into my drink and the elevator opened to reveal Julien's neighbor Shai and his partner Paul. They joined me in drinks (I believe they ordered old fashioneds or sours) and we set about party chat with sporadic texts from Julien.

My view at our dinner table.

6) Not long after we were escorted to our window table, Julien joined us in a burst of excitement. Julien is one of those people who exude perpetual energy. Hook him up to a generator and he'd run India for a year!

7) For dinner I ordered whatever the salmon was. It only occurred to me much later that I'd also had salmon for lunch. I am not one of Those People who insist on varying proteins from one meal to the other. However it was prepared, it was delicious.

8) Conversation over dinner went all over the place, but I was especially pleased to hear about some of Julien's creative endeavors.

Unashamedly borrowing one of Julien's photos of us at dinner.

9) Perhaps because of the weather, the place was not full; Julien said it's usually packed. The absence of a full house contributed to my enjoyment, it must be said.

10) My chocolate cake pod was frosted in pink and bile green, with a yellow-green bit of clear sugar capping a white truffle on top. One of us said "This dessert hasn't decided what it wants to be yet. Julien's banana mousse came in the form of three white bonbons.

11) I invited the party back to the Algonk for a nightcap, and we piled into a cab just off Columbus Circle for the trip downtown. Along the way we got stopped by traffic just outside Saks - and just in time for their Christmas light show to repeat. No wonder people love Manhattan at Christmastime!

11) Nightcaps in the Algonquin lounge = yes please. Just more good conversation in a beautiful room. Julien, to my astonishment, had worn down. So rather than read his tarot cards, I had to bid him farewell when Shai and Paul made their adieux.

12) I stayed up until a shade after midnight, and then set the alarm so I could get a head start on another exciting day in New York.

New York New Year's Vacation, Day Two: The Met

1) Lordy, I was a slugabed Thursday, after so little sleep the night before. I don't think I got going until after 8 AM.

2) I'll say this for the Algonquin, their provision of Beekman 1802 bath products is fantastic. Especially their goat's milk soap.

3) I thought I'd get some writing done at the Red Flame Diner (almost next door to the hotel), but I'd barely written one sentence before Mademoiselle returned with my bacon and cheddar omelette. Fastest breakfast ever!

4) After a quick stop in my room, it was off to the Met, prepared for the day's bombogenesis by wearing long underwear, layers, and hiking books. I toted along with me my journal, a notebook, a Barcelona bar from V*****, and my loafers. It had been suggested to me that tromping through museums in hiking boots might be rather wearing.

5) Now comes one of my New York traditions: going the wrong direction to get to the Met. Exiting the 86th Street Station at 86th and Lexington, I forgot - I always forget - the correct way to turn. I trudged down one block - surely Park Avenue couldn't be right? I reversed, two blocks back - well, Third Avenue was definitely the wrong direction! So say it with me people: Third, Lexington, Park, Madison, Fifth! Don't let me forget.

5a) En route I saw a steam shovel spin its wheels into a construction site (reminded me of Mike Mulligan and his Steam Shovel) and a taxi spin its wheels near fruitlessly in an attempt to get out of the soupy snow piling up everywhere; it almost didn't happen. Several of the doormen at those ritzy Upper East Side towers were meticulously taking care of their sidewalks. I heard one say "You welcome!" after a group of pedestrians went by without thanking him.

5b) I was wearing my new raincoat, purchased yesterday, without a lining. Even so, I'd worked up quite a glow by the time I got inside.

6) Finalmente, the Met! And three cheers for their staff sweeping off the enormous stairs in front of the museum. Sooooooo cold, and wanting nothing but to get inside, but the entrance was clogged with supplicants while the guards checked everyone's bags. After that it was ten minutes in the coat check line. Alas, I had to keep my boots on! Too late did I learn one must go directly to the bathroom to change shoes before checking anything.

7) Grateful the place was open, I paid full fare at a kiosk. Turns out that was the day that it was announced that the Met would make $25 admission mandatory for out-of-state residents.

8) I approached the grand staircase to the second floor. In hiking boots, it seems impossible to interact with a grand staircase in the grand manner. Posture is less a matter of elegance than survival. Rather than the Queen of Roumania*, I felt like a knock-kneed old nag headed for the Great Glue Factory in the Sky.

9) Saw this and immediately thought of a friend who looks a bit like him. "OK, beheading's done. What's next, b******?!"

David with the Head of Goliath, bu Guido Cagnacci, c. 1655

10) Then, unexpectedly, a Rodin exhibition! Let's face it, Rodin has become the Monet of sculptors. And I had the wonderful privilege this year of seeing Stanford's impressive collection of Rodins, including The Gates of Hell. Lovely works in this show, many of which I'd seen before, but the first work to excite me wasn't even by Rodin! I first became familiar with Gustave Moreau's Oedipus and the Sphinx in college (I forget which class - human sexuality? Psych 101? It surely couldn't have been Sociology Through Film!) and the tension between the two captivated me. Not only that, it was the first time a saw a sphinx that wasn't Egyptian. So it was an unexpected meeting with an old friend.

11) But here's a Rodin I hadn't seen before, just to prove I was paying attention to the headliner: Orpheus and Eurydice.

12) Then another wonderful surprise. (Museums tend to be full of them.) In two small nearby galleries were photographs by the Baron de Meyer . . . including one of my beloved Rita de Acosta Lydig, "the fabulous Mrs. Lydig!" She was one of the profligate ladies of style who died bankrupt that Cecil Beaton lauded in his book The Glass of Fashion, which someone gave me for my 30th birthday. Turns out she popularized the backless evening gown in 1913 (first it was a scandal, then everyone was wearing them), so how wonderful to see her wearing one in this photograph.

13) Then the Michaelangelo exhibition, one of the things that motivated me to come to New York this winter. Well, it was great. And sweet mercy goodness, the range of collections from which this was assembled! Even HMTQ sent a few sketches. Wonderful for me to see the range of his work beyond the Sistine Chapel. My photos didn't come out very well for the most part, but this one (of his sketch of two men on horseback) didn't come out too badly.

14) Once I'd gotten through Michaelangelo, it was about time to think about lunch. So of course that meant heading to the gift shop to find something to read. A diligent search led me to Daily Rituals: How Artists Work, by Mason Currey. It sets forth the routines of creatives from B.F. Skinner to Louis Armstrong to many many others. Perfect for me right now.

15) I treated myself to a three-course luncheon at Petrie Court in the museum, and didn't have to wait more than five minutes to get the last table for two with a seat facing outside. This was my view.

15) And a delicious luncheon it was. Baby kale salad with nutmeats and very thin slices of red apple, some sort of salmon business over lentils with a gesture of greenery, and then chocolate blackout cake. Heavenly.

16) Leaving the restaurant I noticed how very long the line was (#smug) but not so much that I missed this hanging by the host's stand.

Cain and Abel

17) I passed then through the Wrightsman Galleries, magnificent French interiors lit as though by candles, and with impressively convincing fake candle flame bulbs in the chandeliers and sconces.

I want this chair!

18) Time to go clod-hopping back up the staircase for more art (As Ruth Draper noted in her monologue A Church in Italy, "Well, they have Art over here, and that's what we come for.") And the first stop on this trip to the second floor was an exhibition of World War I art.

20) Then I wandered through galleries of paintings looking for my beloved Consuelo, Duchess of Marlborough, as painted by Boldini, but she had flitted away. Instead, I saw works both familiar and unfamiliar.

21) A David Hockney exhibition was also going on, and I learned more about him and his work. (Truly, I hadn't gotten far beyond some portraits, his Polaroid collages, and Sister Wendy's "David Hockney loves the male buttocks.") Some really astonishing (to me) compositions of buildings, of people (particularly Don Bachardy and Christopher Isherwood), and of some bold colors.

21a) I often "trivialize modern art" by using it as a background for myself.

22) Beautiful European paintings of the 19th century, a display of horn instruments, brass and wood, centered around a conch shell, paintings from Centuries Earlier Than the 19th, and the utter weariness that can settle on you when you're overwhelmed by Art, hiking boots, and chocolate cake.

23) Eventually, inexplicably, this led me to the Lehman Collection, which I hadn't yet seen. Full of delights, but I was wearing down.

At least I'm not about to succumb to the Stendhal Effect.

24) All I can say is, that Lehman had a good eye.

25) Arrived coat check line 3:01 PM. Emerged coat check line with coat and bag 3:20 PM.

26) Trudging up the sidewalk to 86th Street, a woman asked me "And was the museum open today?" "Yes indeed, and jam packed!" She seemed surprised!

27) I'll have to continue with the evening another time.

* "Head up, chin out, tummy in. Tonight, Agnes, you are Queen of Roumania!"

New York New Year's Vacation, Day One, January 3

1) Up at 5:15 AM after a rough night; I tend not to sleep well before travel days, but this was exceptional. Breakfast at home, dishwashing, final packing, and out the door, toting my roller bag.

1a) With the predicted bombogenesis, no cape!

2) It will surprise no one that I got to South Station about one hour before the train departed. Second breakfast and online news. Why so early, and why South Station instead of Back Bay? In order to get a decent seat in the quiet car, that's why!

3) And to my delight, I ended up having a whole banquette to myself all the way to Penn Station!

4) I love traveling by train. But I sure would love a return to the Beaux Arts palace cars of the pre-WWI era.

5) This time the trip went by in a twinkling, and before I knew it I was struggling through Penn Station to the correct subway platform.

6) Back to my beloved Algonquin Hotel! My room was not quite ready yet - no surprise, as I'd never told them when my train was arriving (oops) - so I parked my bags behind the desk and set off to get a raincoat in advance of Bombogenesis 2018.

7) First stop, Br**** Br******. And when I saw the prices I scoffed (to myself), "If I'm ever going to pay that much for a raincoat, it's going to be Kay Thompson's raincoat by Givenchy in Funny Face.

8) Instead I subjected myself to the 60% off hard sell of the Men's W********, where I eventually settled on a new raincoat and a new overcoat. There's a reason I don't shop at this store much. Guys, I'm buying clothes. We do not have a relationship! Back off!

9) I think of Manhattan as having diverse retail, but in my first two hours I shopped at three chain stores that I could find at home - and in most other places. #crimeofbeingordinary

10) Checked into my room and got freshened up in time to see one of my wonderful Interlochen friends, Katherine:

The Elizabeth Taylor filter is working! #blurry

10a) We had a great catch-up on a lot of different topics over a glass of port (how civilized) in the Algonquin Lounge, my spiritual home in New York. (Though I must say, it was much more populated than on my last visit.)

11) At 6 PM my friend Esteban arrived, and we ended up chatting over drinks in the lounge and I read his tarot cards.

12) By then I was absolutely destroyed with fatigue and rye, and I sank like a stone in my comfortable bed to prepare for the next day's adventure: the Met!