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We went to see a band called Television, who were, according to my History of Rock professor, well-known proto-punk CBGB regulars way back in the when. I enjoyed their music, which was heavily instrumental and surprisingly accessible*, although they tended to milk out the finales to hilarious lengths.

After, we wandered in the growing chill, found a place to eat cheese of the goat and bleu variety, and returned on the PATH. Kitana did not throw up this time, as we were not full of liquor this time. There was a frightening moment when we were followed by a group of rowdy guys on the way to the car, who shouted disturbing and threatening taunts at us to the point where I was actually reaching into my knitting bag for needles or scissors, anything sharp and dangerous. We made it home safely and discussed scary things like men who make women feel like prey.

At home, she fell asleep on the couch while she introduced me to the magic of Bollywood!

*I seem overuse this word when describing new music, only because I normally find it so difficult to access anything.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:22 AM | shower me with attention