This Polish brew packs quite a wallop. I had 3 pints.

Savage drunk last night, and reason escapes me. I was about ready to call it a night at 8, but I had to wish J-Mo a happy birthday, and I got started in on some hearty Polish beer. This precipitated an adrenaline-soaked ramble through the midnight streets. The pavement is choppy these days after so much snow and ice and salt, and I'm still a little gun-shy from last weeks accident. Still, this didn't prevent me from simultaniously weaving through traffic, eating a slice of pizza and nodding my head in time to Grisman and Garcia, a new addition to my mellow weekend music mix. Clearly my fear of death has dissapated.

Spinning back down to earth in Brooklyn with a dizzy head, I took a relic of the holiday season -- a charmingly anachronistic Santa -- down off a telephone poll, scribbled what I'm sure was a barely intelligable note and delivered both to the doorstep of a girl. In my impared state, this seemed like my best woo to pitch. To be honest, I'm a little out of my element, up against a challange. I'm also divided as to how and what to chronicle here in public. Romance is sometimes well served by enigmatic behavior. For the first time in a long time, I'm excited, nervous as to how to proceed.

However, the Santa gambit was a success and I have a date for Tuesday. I feel quite high. "...and I stumbled to safety."

I took some ok photos yesterday in the sunshine.