don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys.
tonight i stood on top of a picnic table in the rain with a boy i hardly know and ate wet, soggy goldfish. my clothes are currently drying on the heater, and my hair is frizzy and wet. in five days i leave for columbus, ohio where i will be living in a closed movie theater, and building an acting theater for a production company called vaud-villities. recently, i've attended an 80's prom dance, broken a huge ceramic plate, walked around downton d.c. handing out flyers, and attended a presentation in the dwight d. eisenhower building (next door, the white house) with speakers including david eisner, the former CEO for aol time warner. i'm so tired of wearing my gray and khaki uniform that every morning when i wake up and put them on, i throw up in my mouth a little. today in maine, jim had to shovel his car out of his parking spot, and i walked around the district of columbia in this 60-something degree weather with only a t-shirt and jeans on. lately i've been listening to a lot of jeff tweedy acoustic stuff, and i've fallen asleep to 'when harry met sally' every night this week. currently, as in right this second, i am frustrated because i made a bagel and put strawberry jam on it, and now my hands and even some of my arm is very sticky. and now. since i just wrote that sentence, my keyboard is sticky too.
must go, i miss you.
an important post script: the oldest person in my family, my great grandmother mamo, died last night at the age of 97. as someone who looked up to her wisdom, and unbelievable beauty, i can only hope to be even half of what she had become in her lifetime. she will be missed.
must go, i miss you.
an important post script: the oldest person in my family, my great grandmother mamo, died last night at the age of 97. as someone who looked up to her wisdom, and unbelievable beauty, i can only hope to be even half of what she had become in her lifetime. she will be missed.