And, for the record, I really like my shower curtain.
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Last night. Oh, my, last night... Full house. Standing ovation. Sheer exhaustion. After party. Kudos. The usuals. Totally worth it...all the rehearsals, which in this case were rather tightly thrown together and quickly so, and the lines...oh god, the lines...I've never been that close to Shakespeare (he seems standoffish like my cousin Jonathan - sure, sure, he'll speak, he'll pass you the potato salad if you ask him, but he won't really like doing it, and you'll be able to tell from the look on his face, but it'll be a private thing, not broadcast to the whole dinner table). But, last night, Shakespeare...
He'd just always wanted a hearse, he said.
U.L. and I like to take Sunday drives, after dinner, each week. There's no rush to this ritual. We enjoy a long dinner with the rest of the family; we gossip, we share news (even the made-up News, an old habit we used to do when I was younger, that's found some way to stick, even to this day). What you do is, you mute the TV, you guess at what's being said by looking at the graphics, and then you tell your version. It was quite a shock, for instance, when I realized that Bush had actually been re-elected, and even greater still,...
Part Two: Aunt Lola
When and if I remember a dream it's because it has some potent element to it; I'd like to think I made that point, clearly enough, in yesterday's blog. And certainly, I would think so with the Billie Holiday dream; and those precious and upsetting few that have come true...all of which I've shared with you. But the potency, when it's there, is one that is, that must be, for me, necessarily Fascinating and Disturbing in its minutiae, as it invades my mind, my lobes, with its obsessive and small details; isn't that where God is, according to van der Rohe? I make no bones about...
"I'm not so sure that shrimps is correct."
...if you know me - and soon enough you will, I hope - you know that I'm a bit obsessed with language and pronunciation, etcetera. For instance, I flat-out refuse to drag the word comparative over four separate vowels and/or syllables depending on which part of the country you live in. Instead, I just say it shortly and sweetly, like this, comparative: emphasis on the first syllable, omitting the middle "a," and running the rest of it together under the "r" sound). It sounds more intelligent, I think. I am quite a strong advocate for doing all I can to...
I drank it as if it were holier than Coke.
Hold on, now. Don't think I'm crazy, entirely, but I have on three separate occasions dreamed things that have then occurred. In actual life. The first involved a childhood pet, Scruff, who had gone to live with my grandparents at Fish Camp, a family compound surrounded my cabins, ponds, a basic swimming pool, and a torturously long vegetable garden, where we gathered each summer for a fish fry and the annual task of grading blueberries and other such fruit; several on my father's side were in the fruit farm industry; after an afternoon of grading blueberries, there is no child on...
The Times they are a-strangin'.
I took a road trip yesterday with Kim and Amanda. We drove down to the beach, an annual treat, and one of the few things I look forward to the whole year long. Sometimes, two of the few things I look forward to the whole year long, if I can manage to get away again. I'd never taken a trip with Kim and Amanda, at the same time; I've certainly spent time with them separately, and had a wonderful time with each, but I wasn't sure the casserole would take, so to speak, when all the ingredients were added. We all have...
I can't believe I'm blogging.
But, then, is that really true? Aren't we all, deep down, deliciously wanting to be voyeurs, without a court trial attached; those always take up so much time. What we want is to break a law and get away with it. That's all blogging is, really, an acceptably broken law; windows made of words for the rest of us Peeping Toms to look at. Nobody minds it; no, instead, it's encouraged. Besides, isn't there something just too alluring about showing a little "skin" to the Peeping Toms, to the entire web-viewing world about how you feel, on any particular subject: racism, nudity, Republicans, orange juice,...
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