The Zach chronicles continue here in a fashion that you can easily predict. And when you call a plot predictable or trite and use that as your grounds of critique, aren't you really critiquing reality and the way things actually operate? That the world does operate in predictable ways and your interactions and relationships with other people can be predicted twenty pages before you get to the ending? So yes, sorry for being so predictable. Zach and I make plans and then he cancels them or doesn't cancel them and doesn't call me, and then we make plans again, I get reexcited, and then again, that excitement crashes into disappointment. And the cycle keeps repeating itself.
And so, even though it was him who suggested we hang out yesterday in the afternoon, drink forties and watch Swingers - the plan did not realize itself because Zach never called me. I was a little bummed, but not too much, because that's stupid and that's predictable. The actions of the world and the people on it may be predictable, may be trite, but our reactions to them need not be. The weather was amazing yesterday. Amazing. Blue skies, warm weather, the sun was out, everyone was out because it was Memorial Day weekend and it felt so good to be here in this town. I biked around town, to Paul's house, and then over the Williamsburg Bridge and right back over it again when Niki turned out to not be at her house but at my house. My ass is still sore today from riding Peter's old, heavy bike with a seat that stabs you. I ate a burger, hot dogs and drank lots of beer at our barbecue. In addition, I consumed a delicacy I have not had in probably over two years: cheese curds!
Josh had a bag of them from his recent trip to Wisconsin and I was in heaven, eating them like chips because they are so fucking out of this world yummy and seriously as soon as I have some cash, I am going to make a tour of the cheese shops in New York and find out if any of them sell cheese curds. Surely, if you can buy any random, foreign food here, you must be able to find cheese curds. Why aren't they sold in grocery stores everywhere? Why just Wisconsin? Eating those cheese curds and having the thoughts and memories they provoked was my reaction, my nonreaction but a reaction nonetheless to not hearing from Zach. Those cheese curds were so good. I relived three summers ago eating them on my neighbor's rooftop here in Brooklyn, felt so good to be living then and now with the knowledge of all these numerous thens, so many in number.