I went to the bar with Mark Bibbins after class.  He bought my first drink and then he bought my second drink and possibly my third.  I don’t remember.  I asked him about Gertrude Stein and he told me about Gertrude Stein but no great conclusions were arrived at.  No, wait.  One great conclusion was arrived at.  I came to the realization that when Gertrude Stein said “when painting becomes abstract it becomes pornographic” she was talking about pornography in the 1930s and not the pornography I usually look at.  But I’m getting ahead of myself.  When we sat down, an actress walked in and Mark recognized her.  She walked over to Dean, the bartender, hugged and kissed him.  Mark said they were making out.  Then the realization happened.  Then we talked about money, power, and domesticated animals.  Mark has a cat named “The Pagoda.”  I remember being amazed at how good the name “The Pagoda” is, yet not acknowledging this in any way to Mark other than a brief nod of my head.   I talked a lot of shit about nearly every person in my MFA program in harsh and intolerant ways.  I tried to draw a picture of a cat on a napkin and failed and continued to do this over and over.  I made Mark do this with me.  Justin Taylor appeared.  I don’t think he recognized me with my beard on.  I made Mark introduce us for fun.  We talked about a few things.  I talked to another person.  It became late.  I don’t remember leaving the bar.  I took the wrong train and ended up in the wrong part of Brooklyn.  I could have easily taken another train and gotten home quickly, but instead I took the train back to where I had originally gotten on and just started over.  It took a very long time.  I’m going to be blogging here now.  Sup with you?