Today busted out a tennis outfit, the lucky raquet, and the new high-tech tennis shoes and met a pal over at the public courts where we were neck & neck with good solid rallies for each point. Then his g.f. showed up and she's my pal, too. As I was serving I heard her cheering me on at a volume he couldn't hear over the din of traffic on the expressway alongside the courts. I knew I was going to kick his ass at that point and had one of my classique shit-eating grins on my mouth and then I wiped him all over the court, forcing him into unforced error motifs. Despite all my self-back-slapping we ended tied at five games to five and decided to break for dinner. Photographed a social event this evening at the art gallery and spent a moment talking to Ani DiFranco's mom and hubbie - her mom looks just like her and they have the same effervescent way of shining at you. Her husband Andrew now has manic panic red hair. I got my images, talked to an archaelogist about digging holes here & there, and scooted away into the night - my leather-bottomed shoes slipsliding me down the stairs and into the night.