Written in an email yesterday to a friend who was talking about a slumber party with his best friend:
"I am in fierce envy and admiration on your best friend sleep over. When my best friend lived here, we'd have sleep overs at least once a month. Not crashing at each other's house but specifically a sleep over with movies rented, ice cream eaten, thai food ordered, clove cigarettes smoked, secrets told. It was bliss."
I could use one Jen for my city living. In the meantime, I might actually manage to see Capote tonight. If PSH can manage to not only believe he's Capote but also gay and hence prevent me from wanting to make out with him, THAT will be the true test of his skill.