I spent the day in the apartment, writing. Which is a more gracious way of saying I did not leave the apartment–not once!–until 5:30 pm when I went to meet a friend at the park so her son could swing. It’s been so hot in New York lately that I expected it to be sweltering outside and so I dressed accordingly. But there was a lovely breeze, and it could not have been more than 80 degrees. After my friend and I chatted while the baby swung for about 30 minutes (don’t babies get dizzy?) I left with the intention of returning home. Except it was so nice out I kept walking west, to Central Park. I walked around the footpath at the Jackie Onassis Reservoir. The setting sun reflected pink off the buildings, and I felt so grateful to be in New York. Except for the fact that I felt like an idiot walking around the reservoir. EVERYONE was running. I didn’t know if I should walk to the right or the left or in the middle or what. All I knew was that every few seconds a stampede would come pounding behind me, and I would be transported back to high school, where the male track coach used to bark, “LANE! LANE!” when he and the boys came swooshing around the track. We girls, even if we were running, were expected to get the hell out of their way.
Back home I poured myself a glass of A to Z rose-ay, and ate the rest of the potato salad. That probably should have sufficed for dinner, but I felt obligated to eat a salad. Glad I did. The salad I fixed was good: arugula, pitted bing cherries, toasted walnuts, chunks of Gouda, and balsamic vinaigrette. Granted, the gouda was from a cut up Baby Bella, but it did the trick. Afterwards I watched 1/2 of Manhattan, but got too wierded out by Mariel and Woody’s relationship. (She was 17 to his 42.) The best part of the evening was eating half of a Michel Cluizel chocolate bar. I like the milk chocolate bars best, though the snob in me wishes I liked the darker varieties. But Cluizel’s milk has a 45 percent cocoa content, so it’s plenty intense.And there is no way to describe the experience of eating it other than cliche: it melts in the mouth, leaving behind tiny little cocoa nibs. It’s really fabulous. Almost made Mariel and Woody easier to swallow.