stool into something distinctly her own, something vital, something alive. It was a world I tried to inhabit in my own diary entries but without success. If I was an interloper in her world, at least she was a vibrant tour guide. Her diary filled my computer screenâa new entry at the top. I took a sip of juice and settled in to read it. [from http://users.livejournal.com/Ë MzMisery ] Time: 1:55 p.m. Mood: Exhausted Music: Interpol, âNYCâ Oh yeah. THIS is why I moved here. What a fucking night. Started innocently enough: Ben and Debra came over with bottles of wine and we ate leftover takeout Thai on the floor (Stevie sold his kitchen tableâlong story) and they toasted me and made me a provisional member of the VSC. Ben wasnât even being weird to me, which was nice for a change. Then Debra got cranky because it was hot in the apt (no AC yetâmust change this immediately) so we went to Hi-Fi which is so totally the rock critic nerd bar on Avenue A but it also has a digital jukebox with like 3000 albums on it, so itâs worth it. So I was drinking beer because it was going to be a quiet night and I put 7 bucks in the jukebox and was taking forever to pick out songs (they have every New Order album on thereâEVERY ONE) when I noticed this guy sitting in one of the booths, totally checking me out. Now this does not happen all the time but when you are a young lady in the big city it happens SOMETIMES right? But not like this. This was so brazen. He was not my usual type (kinda skinny) but had cool hair and big brown eyes and he was just boring holes into me with them. I kept trying to stare him down but he wouldnât even blink, so I ended up blushing and turning back to the jukebox. I was taking so long up there that Debra came up to me and was like âthat dude is totally checking you out.â But she didnât know who he was either. Finally when I ran out of credits I took a big drink and turned around and walked right over to him. He was just sitting there, staring at me as I walked over, with this totally cocky lazy smileâthe kind you just want to smash either with your fist or your lips. I didnât know what to say so I was like âdo we know each other?â And he just keeps smiling that lazy cat smile and says something like âI dunno but Iâm pretty sure I know you.â And I donât know what came over me but something about his confidence or his assholeishness (same diff) was so overwhelming I was just like âyou are very cute.â And he was like âyouâre not so bad yourself.â I felt kinda queasy but kinda turned on and I feltâfuck it, right? This is NEW YORK CITY. This is where I live now. So I sat down with him just when my songs started on the jukebox. The night took a different turn from there. The VSC wanted to leave and I didnât even notice them go because I was still talking to this guyâIâll call him âD.â And the thing about him is that heâs SMART but heâs also older. Heâs a writerâabout music and heâs working on some kind of bookâbut not a dorky, trainspotting shut-in like most music writers. This guy was vibrating on some sort of crazy frequency and we just clicked but in a totally fun and confrontational way. We were arguing about movies and records and he got all my references and he laughed at all my jokes. We kept taking turns running outside for cigarettes because we didnât want to lose the booth. At midnight he ran out of money so I bought him two more drinksâhe was drinking vodka on the rocks which seemed kinda cool and writerlyâand then he asked me to go to the bathroom with him and I was kind of loaded at this point so I said sure. We got some funny looks but the place was crowded and people were hammered so no one stopped us. He locked the door and broke out drugs and gave me bumps and then grabbed me just so and I let him