The good ol' days

I just met a woman named Flash. You gotta love New York. When asked where she grew up, she said, "Delaware, but I haven't grown up yet." And true that was. She is a comedian, writer, illustrator, designer, among many other things I'm sure. I met her with Nicole at a book signing party in Chelsea. The author whose book was being honored was Laurie Rosenwald, another amazing woman in her 50s. The woman created a font fer gosh sakes. But her book is an utter hoot and a half. I started reading it on my way home and it's like a thought dump that I wish I had written. She is utterly insane and I love her even though I don't know her (yet). This group of friends that she has accumulated over the years were unreal. One of them said that 30 years or so ago, her friend with incredible blonde hair and just that way about her, was pursued by Jimi Hendrix. These folks are the real New York. These are the people who used to hang out with de Kooning, Pollock, Ginsburg. I have to get into this circle. I think Nicole and I found a good way but I can't write about it here because soon you'll read it about it elsewhere (he he). Anyway, the only downer was that someone took my umbrella, the one that I found left at a bar in Flatbush. It was my favorite. Now it's gone. But now that I meditate, it's all okay. I took another black umbrella. Granted, it was broken and not as functional, but I believe I got as wet as I would have with my awesome one that is currently in someone else's hallway. Ommmmmmmmmmmmm.....