Dining near the stars.

I went out for dinner with friends. Off in another corner of the restaurant, Peter Strauss and Rachel Ticotin were having their dinner. If it wouldn't have made me look a fool, I would have wanted to tell Peter Strauss what a huge crush I had had on him when I was a girl. Particularly because of Masada and a remake he did of Angel on My Shoulder. That was when I was just on the fringe of beginning to realize that I found men -- certain of them -- attractive and wonderful. Of course, all I ever wanted to do was marry them. Nine year-old girls don't generally hope for a hot night in the jacuzzi with the celebrity of their choice. They just want to marry him and change their surname. Love was so simple in those days, hm?

I wore the cutest shoes in the world tonight. I love them. That's another simple kind of love that I find to be entirely manageable. A hat gets tossed in the air for that.

Peter and Rachel left the restuarant as we were standing outside on the sidewalk. We watched them walk to their car. It's a shame that everyone doesn't just know everyone. Or that the world doesn't have so few people in it that such a thing could be true. It would be nice to never be barricaded by that wall of unfamiliarity. I would have liked to say, "Hi," in the same way that one might ask one's neighbor how the tulips are coming in this year. I would have liked to ask how their dinner was without actually caring what they answered. Good old casual acquaintance. Would that take the fun out of everything? I'm on the fence about it.