Flamingos, among other things

I had this big plan that I was going to write a nice long post last night and have only to click "publish" today and: voilà! But, instead, I ate my weight in goulash, fell asleep trying to read a book, woke groggy and confused at 10pm, then watched some old British police-ish drama which became infuriating when the smart psychologist protagonist said, "I know you're a murderer and I'm going to tell everyone" to a guy when they were alone in a forest. Then, duh, he tried to kill her. I mean. Tssss. (I don't know how to spell that, but imagine it being a sound of derisive disbelief because that's just what it is.)

As you can see, I'm very busy.

I am both excited and dismayed that there is goulash available on my street. A friend said she was entirely unsurprised there was a new goulash restaurant in my neighborhood, so I clarified, "it's not like 'Hi. I'm a hipster and I like goulash.' It's like 'Hi. I'm Hungarian.'" I think this is an important distinction. Whatever its provenance, it is not costly and it is delicious. I think I may have gained ten pounds in about thirty minutes, however. In further good/bad news, it happens to be next door to the crème brulée shop. I don't think you need me to draw you a picture. But if you do, it will be a round one.

I have my eye on a highly impractical silk dress that may be too short to sit in, but is also very loose and perhaps ideal for goulash-eating (while standing up, obviously). Did I mention that it is festooned with flamingos? It totally is. I suspect it may be a dress for a slightly different woman who I am only in my imagination, but since she's more fun than I am, maybe I'll see if I can dress for the role.

I know I have medical bills and car registration to pay. Don't be a killjoy. It's almost my birthday. Flamingos for everyone, say I.

Tonight I'm going to a party on a streetcar. The F Line is part of our regular ol' public transportation, but it is exponentially more charming. Who doesn't want to toodle along the waterfront in a vintage streetcar? Probably someone, but that person would never be my friend. Generally the F is too full of tourists to even try to get on it, but tonight, that won't be the case. Tonight it will be all jazz trio, passed hors d'oeuvres, and no stops along the way.

I suspect that tonight might be the first time in my life I regret not being on instagram. You'll just have to use your imagination. But not right now. Right now you could just go here. (A photo I tried and failed to upload like a grown-up. It claims to be part of creative commons, but it is either just kidding, or I'm missing a step. Probably the latter.)

Oh, F Line. I have quite a crush on you.