Too much fun! Lunch with the newlyweds at Bouchon on Saturday; white bean soup with tapenade, a boudin blanc with prunes and wonderful potato puree, a chocolate mousse. Claire behaved disgracefully, but looked very cute in her yellow and purple kimono. Afterwards we wandered through an Argyle Centerish shopping mall filled with cynical tourist art. I was the last one out; the others were waiting for me, tweeting:
“Twee! Twee! Twee!”
Saturday night a vast cold descended over me, so that I could hardly even concentrate on Porco Rosso, except to note that it’s now among my top ten films of all time. Sunday I dragged myself out of my sick bed to go to Ada’s birthday party. I should explain that Claire uses “apple-juice” for a large set of vaguely homonymous polysyllabic words: octopus, obelisk &c. So:
“Can you say ‘Happy birthday Ada’?”
“Apple ju-ju Ada!”
The party was wicked fun, as far as I could tell from my bleary-eyed perch in the corner.
“Ada’s TWO YEARS OLD,” said Danny in amazement. “Do you know what that is in dog years?”
“Do you know what it is in human years?” asked Quinn.
“Do you know what it is in PARENT years?” asked Jeremy.
Last night we ventured out onto rainy Mission to try Fortune Cookie, the new local Chinese. Outstanding potstickers, delicious duck salad and a Futurama-worthy orange peel chicken, according to Jeremy:
“Popplers with a light dressing of Slurm.”
Claire greatly enjoyed the live crabs:
We pinched each other with pincers. On further exploration, she found a small shrine with two candles. She sang to it:
“Apple birdy ju-ju, apple birdy ju-ju.”
I like to interview her at the end of the day, to find out how things went.
“Did you have a nice time at Ada’s party?”
“Did you see Quinn?”
“Did you see Danny?”
“Did you see Gilbert?”