drooling on books, excessive flirtingYesterday:

drooling on books, excessive flirting

Yesterday: happened across an sfsu prof's estate sale of books, books, books. Ran about room full of books, actually squeaking with joy and nearly having heart attacks every few seconds at the fabulous books.

An old Pancatantra. The Robert Graves "Song of Songs" with illustrations by Hans Erni. A nice Velazquez dictionary to be my spare one (old one is worn out, spine cracked and broken) Old hardback copy of Burton's "Anatomy of Melancholy". An old Everyman's Library translation of the Kalevala. Minty fresh paperbacks of Bly's "Leaping Poetry", Sea and Honeycomb, Kabir book, Light around the body. Ahhhh!! Brain on overjoyed overload!

And those are only a few of the keepers. Some I will read and pass on to Walter's bookstore (like the Dryden and the Anne Sexton's letters). Some I will save for presents (e.e. cummings first editions to Dossie, ezra pound to Janel) Some go straight to the bookstore. Some are worth hundreds of dollars but I don't know if I can get it. I found a copy of "Country of Survivors" by W.S. DiPiero and noticed there are no other copies of it for sale anywhere, and in fact no bios of him even list it as his first book. I wonder why? Does he not like it anymore, or just not bother to list it since it's not available? Should I keep it - I took a look and liked the poems (and I like his translations). Should I call up DiPiero and ask him if he wants it, as a nod of respect from a fellow translator? Should I donate it to Markham House? Should I try to sell this one online? Hrmmm. Well, dear reader, if you are here because you are searching for it, you can email me and I might be persuaded to sell it.

Dude, dead professor, kindred spirit, whoever you are, lover of poetry, scribbler of notes in margins, translator of Chinese, secret collector of lesbian erotica, I'm sorry you're dead and thanks for the books.

I love to try to see the person behind the estate sale.

Ended up at La Fondue in Saratoga for Max's birthday. Was boggled by the decor. Why the red velvet upholstered archway? Why the tent motif? How do the orbs and crenellations and christmas ornaments come into it? A castle (crenellations, orb/scepter concept) and a carnival (tent) ? And some kind of sideways whorehouse (the red velvet wall)? Yet what does any of that have to do with FONDUE? Then in the back where we sat, squares of plastic and hanging beads in a mod, "In Like Flynn", Flynn's pad sort of way.

Ate things dipped in cheese and chocolate. Squeezed and was squeezed by guys and girls alike. Was awash in sea of pleasant flirtation. Usually I feel a bit old and dowdy and mom-ish, or alternately seem to be around people who would consider all this lap-sitting and squeezing and smooching to be either shocking scandal, or signs of Eternal Love. So this friendliness with mild hint of sleaze was unusually nice. Especially nice to have one hand in S.H.'s thighs and one in S.N.'s, simultaneously. They were so soft and cushiony, I wanted to roll around and wallow on their laps and just sort of gasp in astonishment. Okay, sure, I have my own thighs, but it's not the same. Girls! I love them! I think they were all drunk, especially Max. I don't get enough friendly flirting lately.