magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

Julia was hosting a Cinco de Mayo tacos and margaritas party tonight. At precisely the same time, back in Manhattan, Geoff Farina, possibly my favourite songwriter, was playing a show. I hedged back and forth as to which I was going to attend, eventually settling on Julia's. Geoff is playing in Philly tomorrow night (which, although it's only an hour and a half way, if I'm being completely honest with myself, there's really no chance I'll be going to) and two shows in Massachusetts next weekend (also unlikely that I'd make it out there, but within the realm of theoretical possibility).

And taco night was a good choice. It was a small, but friendly crowd. We ate, then drank on the rooftop until the wind picked up and it started getting a little bit chilly.

Leaving, around 1:45, drunk and a little stoned (as I'm sure I've mentioned here before, when combined in my system, alcohol and pot tend to multiply eachother's effects, rather than simply adding to one another), I briefly contemplated making a certain phone call, but (wisely, I think) just got on the train home instead.