As of right now, I have been recovering the hard drive on my powerbook for 24 hours.
It seems it will never end.
Today I ate lunch with my father. I had a freelance gig to do some edits on some Quark layouts with a Big Fancy Art Book Publisher for the past two days (they like me, so I might do more, which is good because I haven't had a print-related job in a year) and their offices happen to be across the street from where my dad works.
He only works out of his office one day a week, because he is near retirement age, and he works for a government agency. I think you can connect the dots here. I refer to him as The King, because he is basically in an ivory tower.
My father and I ate at Sammy's, a smallish Chinese place next to the IFC Center on 6th Ave. We sat in the window seats and watched people get blown down the street by high winds, and little dogs meeting and greeting each other. I teased him gently about the hugeass bandaid on his neck (he had some basal cell skin cancer remover the other day) and commended him on not taking the chicken way out, which was to wear a neckerchief.
In the midst of our meal, we hear a loud explosion-type noise, and I see a smokelike vapor. Every pigeon in a 2 mile radius is airborne. Five minutes later, three fire engines and a bunch of NYPD are stationed across the street from us. I still do not know what happened.
On the way back to our respective office buildings, we walk down Carmine Street and I notice there is a
Beard Papa! Even better, one of the feature flavors is Double Chocolate. I go inside, and tell my dad excitedly how awesome their cream puffs are. The man who came into the store right behind us is also a Beard Papa fan (he agrees with me that the green tea ones are fabulous), and when I turn around to actually look at him I have a bit of a girly meltdown because
it is
Campbell Scott
Who I have always had a thing for, but now that he is going grey and plays a moody photographer on a show called Six Degrees, well, I don't need to tell you that seeing Mr. Scott was a little bit exciting, and yet wholly embarrassing because I was with my father. How could he fall madly in love with me over a choux cream when my dad was there? It just wasn't going to happen today.
As it happens, they were shooting an episode of Six Degrees in the neighborhood, starting at 5pm, and I contemplated stalking Campbell but I really had to come home to spend my night recovering my hard drive.
Tonight, I will dream of Campbell Scott, possibly feeding me green-tea cream puffs. Or maybe just talking shop about medium format cameras.
