Thursday, Apr. 03, 2003 | 9:52 AM

Yesterday I went grocery shopping, something I seldom do yet love doing and should do more.

I went to Harvest Co-op, which is right down the street and just the kind of market I dig�whole foods, health foods, gourmet foods, wine, beer, fancy bath products and candles. A coffe bar in the front serving chai tea and latees. The store exists somewhere in the netherworld between progressive hipster and Cambridge yuppydom.

I bought sourdough bread and Annie�s macaroni and cheese. Near East cous cous. Red bell peppers. Chicken breast. Crinkle cut french fries. Paul Newman�s mint chocolate chip cookies. Carrot sticks and humus. A bottle of Chardonnay and a six pack of New Moon White Ale.

When I got home I put everything in the fridge and settled in for a nice night of not having to do a damned thing (at rehearsal they were working on choreography that I don�t participate in, and thus I had a rare evening off.)

I made myself a cup of hot cocoa, got into my flannel nightgown, and watched the E- True Hollywood Story on Karen Carpenter. Then I finished reading Bel Canto which I recommend to one and all, though it tore my heart in two and brought back some haunting memories�not because anything plot wise paralleled my life, but because of what the book suggested thematically about love and connection.

See when I get to the edge of that subject I shut down and can�t write about it. Because I don�t own the copyright any more. It�s like how Mr. Brady is erased from any Brady Bunch marketing. My writing is air brushed. Glossed over. Run through the machine of the Ministry of Truth.

Anyway�

It was weird not being out all night. I felt a little antsy. And oddly, I didn�t feel like drinking. I had one glass of wine and then put the bottle back in the fridge. That was a bit of a relief.

I fell asleep early�10ish maybe. Usually I�m not in bed until 3 or so.

I had a beautiful dream and I cried when I woke up and it wasn�t real.