Sunday, November 8, 2015

Party at my sister Donna Cartagena's house - Great food, great music! Hold yer ears, it's noisy inside!

We drove down in Neil O'Keefe's window-tinted stunning black Toyota. That man is an excellent driver.

My camera got a good talking-to when I got home and downloaded the photos. Very blurry.

You should always learn one or two new things when you're around people. I learned about the Netflix film Master of None with Aziz Ansari. Never heard of him, an atheist Muslim Tamil, according to Wiki.

 The birthday boy, David, was under the weather. He's with his dad Tyler and Jill, who just had back surgery.
 I thought Jill looked like Claire Danes, the actor who plays Carrie Matheson in Homeland.
Lynn and boyfriend Neil.

 Kamelia is David's mom. A wonderful cook, her hands were raw from working so hard. She showed em to me.
 Matt and Jade, who wore a darling short skirt. I told her she looked like a cheerleader. Here's Lynn who guided Neal with direx. He went by the instinct of a homing pigeon - what? they're all extinct - but we got there with no mistakes made.
Every single dish was delicious. Spectacular. Scrumptious.  Delectable and all the other synonyms in Roget's Thesaurus.

Trisha made bean dip with cheese and a spicy dip with a kick. Mmmmm.

 Mom and Carlos. His wife, Barbara, was home with something or other. He's holding a martini that Rich made with pineapple juice and almond flavoring. Yum!
 Hello Sarah Lynn. Mom kept on her coat bc "I'm always cold," she said.

Altho she had her walker, she was helped to walk by the guys there.
Quinn Roche and Anthony Cartagena. I did an about-face when I saw Quinn. His looks totally changed. Donna had told me that months ago. Could it be Pew-Burt-Tee?

Later Quinn and Anthony were trying to explode a big Coke bottle by putting Mentos in it - they only had the gum - by shaking the mixture. It did not work.

Image result for coke and mentos experiment  Actually this is how NASA tried but failed to get the first spaceship off the ground.

 Dig those shoes! Sarah left early with a woman named Lisa who drove Sarah to the Philly train station where she then got the train home to Bklyn.
 Driveway filling up with cars.
 Best grapes I've ever had. I think they're from Mexico.

I injected 10 units at least four times. Before I left for home, I took my blood sugar. 78. So I ran back in the house and brot out to eat in the car, some more potato salad with parsley flakes and a new cheesey bean dish that must've emerged from the oven.

 Maria Cartagena, 91, does yoga and walks like a young woman.
 She was talking about someone in her family - a great granddaughter - Jana's daughter and how smart she is.
Steve Roche looks like a homunculus in this distorted pic I took. He was pouring martinis down people's throats, like Gerry in my short story Lethal Weapons.

 Maria, Melissa, Mom and Nikki.
 Maria busses her granddaughter Mel, who wore fishnet stockings, as did Sarasita.
 Yoly from El Salvador and husband Roberto from Ecuador. We always called him Herman, but I switched to Roberto.

The new president of Ecuador wears the above shirt Herman is wearing. It's made by an indigenous tribe in Ecuador who have changed little over time.

 Thought I'd share Yolande's photo with Stalin Campos, my transplant surgeon, who hails from El Salvadore.
 Under the stars, we heard a toe-tapping concert by Pat, who takes guitar lessons; his teacher and his teacher's friend, Doug.
Mom and Ellen's cookies. I heartily indulged. Where's my Novolog pen? Swedish wedding cookies.

 Sarah's husband Ethan and The Bad Plus are playing in Poland.
Maritza is in the middle. Everyone loves "Ritzy."

Anthony Cartagena roved around taking photos.

Ah, poor Persephone. She just couldn't resist eating six seeds of the pomegranate after Hades grabbed her.

 I wrote a poem about my account which I called The Prince of Corono. Then I fired him bc he never gave New Directions a contribution despite repeated requests. But the new guy did such a lousy job I got The Prince back.
 Brian and his partner, whose name I can't remember, are moving from Manhattan to Riverdale, the Bronx. Their old apartment, which they paid peanuts for, is now worth over a million.

They're friends of Joyce Burke Margolin, who flew up from Cleveland to be at the party. She's a childhood friend of my sister Donna. Joyce's daughter, Genna, would have been 40 years old today had she not died from a heroin overdose.
 Sandra is a friend of Rich's, working at the same office he does. Her BF Gerry was recently operated on for a brain tumor.

Luckily it's accessible, she said. He has a horseshoe-like scar on the side of his head. He takes two pills a day of chemo and is also still getting radiated.

His hospital?

Cornell Presbyterian, right across the street from Sloan-Kettering where my dad got experimental treatment for his brain tumor that didn't work. 
 Hello Josh Cartagena. Nice kid! He turned me onto "Master on None" with Aziz Ansari.

I watched the first episode last night on Netflix. It's about immigrants. It was a riot! Sexually explicit.

I told Josh about the great Indian filmmaker Satyrijat Ray and The Apu Trilogy, plus the Japanese Kurusawa.


Today I had two stunning pieces I wrote REJECTED!

But three of my poems were accepted. Here's one of em

All across the nation
the International House
of Pancakes opens its
loving blue arms
a shelter from
the dark chilly
so brightly lit
we blink our eyes
as Brittanie leads
us to our seats
The endless pot
of coffee is brought
out and I fill myself
with the soothing
hot liquid I desire each
time I pass a
Dunkin or a Starbucks
Does the coffee have any
flavor? Not really but
it sure looks good in the
white IHOP mug
My potbelly could hold
a two-month-old baby
were my nubility not a
thing of the past
My friends
Harriet - Karen - Christopher
Brett - Ron and Elissa have
smaller bellies than mine and
order up!
Suddenly we are transported
to the African desert where
Mount Kilimanjaro soars
in the distance. Inside our
flapping tents, Brittanie and
a young Ernest Hemingway
with mustache and piercing
black eyes all women dream of
march in with our order
Blueberry pancakes with a
side dish of sweetened blueberries
French toast with banana and
“A favorite of mine,” says Papa
and Brittanie nods
For Karen, both pancakes,
eggs and hash browns
Christopher goes for the
piles of whipped cream
“My second wife Pauline
ate too much whipped cream,”
said Papa, “but by then I had
fallen for Martha”
The only potbelly who did not
drown herself in pancakes
was Harriet, not Tubman,
of the slave revolt,
but Harriet, president of
our Flat Tummy Club
Elissa has a cat to come home to
Brett a dad
Christopher a madhouse
Harriet a Steve
Papa a shotgun
Karen a man
Abrams a bike
Deming a red couch
Where she dreams of an eternity
sipping hot coffee
and eating reams and reams
of whipped cream on
chocolate chip pancakes
up to the sky.


Read new book about Hemingway and his wives - Hemingway in Love: Between Two Women - by A E Hotchner, now 94. 

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