Two weeks -making lists

Tonight the boy who might have done it called my name as I walked home. Or my sort-of name: "Jennifer." We were about a block from my apartment building and it was the first time I'd seen him Friday night. He's been laying low.
"Come here for a minute," he said, standing by the playground.
I shook my head vehemently and kept walking.
I didn't want to talk to him, to be pressured into telling him things. To consort with a possible stabber. I don't want to know any more than I already know.

I felt a little bummed today. Got the news late last night that none of my data was able to be recovered, after all. And the external hard drive where I thought I'd backed everything up - turns out I didn't do it properly somehow. It only has a little bit of data. From now on, I'm learning how to back it all up and I'm doing so every few days. I hope you all will, too.

It rained off and on all day, which made me think of umbrellas again. My second day here I bought my first New York umbrella and I opened it indoors. "Bad luck," I said, before I opened it. The store clerk scoffed and urged me to open it, to make sure it worked. So I did.
And I sure have had a lot of bad luck.
But my roommate (Dave, not Jen) reminds me bad things come in threes: 1) left a favorite jacket in a taxi 2) someone got stabbed at my apt 3) computer broke and I lost all my data. Now, he says, three good things will happen. I'm ready!

Three good things did happen today (not that I'm letting those count as my three - the real three better be big.)

1) I had lunch with my new neighborhood friend, David Duhalde. Jen and I met him at my friend Maria's party and it turns out he lives only a few blocks from us. What's more, he grew up in the neighborhood, went to the schools I walk by, saw the demographics shift and the crime decrease.

He took me on a mini walking tour (the corner where the last remaining Irish establishments stood when he was a kid - the Irish have since moved on to the suburbs, he said - upward mobility; a Dominican restaurant where you can get a whole roasted chicken for $5 - I may have to start eating chicken again; a wonderful cafe, whose name I already love: The Hungarian Pastry Shop). Then it started to rain in the center of Columbia's main plaza and we fled down Broadway, past the farmers' market, and took shelter in a favorite Cuban spot of his - Havana something. The menu had pictures of Kerouac and Ginsberg and other Beats on the cover. David didn't know if they had frequented the spot or not - I'll have to do more research.
It was a big place, nice, like the spots flanking broadway are, with a horseshoe-shaped bar, high ceilings and the kind of big wooden booths that can seat six or eight medium-sized people in a pinch. I had the Cuban sandwich and stopped myself from eating all of it.

2) In the afternoon I met up with Jean Scheidnes, former style reporter for the Austin American-Statesman, and current designer market editor for DNR, the men's equivalent of Women's Wear Daily. (Though DNR is now weekly).
We sat on the half-moon shaped bench of the lounge at Ringo, a round space, whose curved glass window jutted high and made me wish it were still raining, just I could see it from inside. We drank coffee poured restaurant-style into cups on saucers.

I had never really talked much with Jean before (she left the Statesman shortly after I started writing for the paper), but I was delighted by her. She was very calm (she looked tired, poor thing) and seemed unconcerned about time. I guess the magazine had just gone to bed for the week. We talked about Conde Nast, why she didn't want to work at Vogue, people we knew in Austin. I had a great time, and I hope to see her again.

3) After leaving Jean and picking up my computer (with new, blank hard drive installed and the wounded one handed off in a bubble-wrap pouch), I rushed home on the rush-hour subway, dropped my bag at the apartment and set off to meet Tim Elliott, PR director of men's wear for Barneys New York, the luxury department store that also does Barneys CO-OP. I had met him once in Austin and he had given me his card, so I emailed him once I was here.
He was very kind. I chose a sort of odd little coffee shop to meet, and then found myself wishing I'd picked a more sophisticated spot on Broadway. But I'm so new here, and he wanted to come to my neighborhood (it was on his way home, since he lives in the Bronx).
We talked for at least an hour, about men's fashion (which I had also talked about with Jean - a sign?), and the kind of bespoke items such as suits, shirts, shoes - custom made - that we both have an appreciation for. Maybe I would like men's fashion. I'm apprehensive about diving fully into women's fashion, because 1) I feel like I don't love it enough - there's too much bullshit about a lot of it 2) I'm not sure I want to insert myself into such a reputedly catty world.
But men's fashion has the tailor-made realm, and that aspect still has integrity.
He told me that everyone in the industry reads two blogs: 1) the Moment - on the NYT website under "T" magazine, and 2) On the Runway, Cathy Horyn's fashion blog (also on the NYT website). Good to know! The moment had a good list of links to other blogs, said, and urged me to check out the ones concerning men's wear. I think I will.