Here are a few things I discovered in New York:

1. It really isn't that hard to find satisfaction in one's exes' weddings. Even though this was not the first, it was the first to which I have been invited. Sometimes I worry that I don't really like anyone. I reason that if that were the case, I would have been miserable at little owl's wedding party. Instead, I was enormously happy. QED.

2. The waiters/waitresses at the Ollies at Lincoln Center are exactly as hostile and unhelpful as those at the one on 87th. God, I love Ollies. When I think good food, I usually think Ollies. Which is odd: it's good, but no Chez Panisse (he said, glaring at %%diary-floodtide%%,) and like I said, the waitrons do their best to make you feel unwelcome. But ye gods! their Hot Little Sticky Buns are good. And their vegetable anything. And their scallion pancakes are like no scallion pancakes you will ever, ever get anywhere else. I'm sure there're places in Chinatown that're more authentic, but I don't think I could do without the hostility.

3. I have to break up with my girlfriend. I thought I was being all open-minded and such, but really, marriage to a third party does tend to change the dynamic of any relationship. I can't help seeing most of what she does in terms of the last guy, and I think that while she can't admit it, she makes her own choices in terms of him, too. She's a little clingy and I can't deal with it. We don't have much in common. She didn't know who Henry Kissinger was when I mentioned him, but pretended to get the joke. Not to mention she's married. My priority right now is getting a better job and moving to New York. This was my priority even before I went up there. Now I see that there are only a few ways things with R. will proceed.

(a) R., having realized that I want to move to New York alone, will want to continue dating just to have someone around. This I will not do.
(b) R. will grow increasingly attached, while I begin the process of separation that one goes through before any move. Drama and emotional turmoil will ensue. This I will not allow.
(c) R. does not so far want to break up despite the fact that she knows I want to leave more than anything, and alone. This tells me that she may be attempting to prove to me that I should stay, or bring her with me. I don't want to be in that position, and anyway, we've been dating for three weeks, so I do not consider either of these a possibility.

So, I'm afraid I'm going to have to break it off. I am miserable at this stuff, absolutely miserable. I try ineptly and patronizingly to soften the so-called blow, or I just walk away. Neither is the proper way to end a relationship. We shall see. I like her just fine, and certainly don't want to stop hanging out with her, but I don't think I can really deal with the sex and the turmoil and everything else.

This does not make me an awful person. I am not, in fact, an awful person. I am a person who is unwilling to swap loneliness for dysfunction. Sue me.

Last night I was having a lovely conversation about Raphael, London, New York, museums, philosophy, and "despair" with %%diary-girlsdontcry%% when she asked how I met fulminous. Like a good journalist, %%diary-girlsdontcry%% managed to find exactly the wrong question to ask, but it's still a funny story. We were at a party at our mutual friend Barry's. It was a sort of blushy, spin-the-bottle type atmosphere so of course we ended up talking about sex. Suddenly there was a lull in the conversation right as I was expressing my loud enthusiasm for fisting. Ful and I stayed up until like seven in the morning (talking, you dirty people!) and fortunately have been close friends since. And that is all I have to say about that.