the alarm was set for 9:51; i woke up this morning at 8:30. there was wine in my head, it is sinking away now. last night bee & beck came over for blackbean soup & cornbread. bean made the soup because she is cuban, & i made the cornbread because i am from kentucky (even if i commit the horror of sugaring it), & bee & beck brought the wine. we watched
le cit� des enfants perdus which lulled me to eyes-closed & so i learned that i've seen it enough that i don't need the subtitles anymore, or even to see marc-caro's-art-directioned terry-gilliam-approved visuals.
at this dinner/movie party, we were all in pyjamas. except the cats.
i have had so much to say in the past week. i have had no time to say it in. i am carrying three halfheartedly begun letters in my army-surplus-store bag these days. i am starting diaryland entries in my head only to remember, i am not going near a computer anytime in the forseeable future. i've hardly had any time with my headphones & i am carrying around the World's Heaviest Novel & i haven't gotten anywhere with it. i don't know What.
bean is in the other room sniffling in her sleep.
lately oh i hope she does not mind i am hurling this Out There i am suddenly feeling all kinds of new/renewed feelings toward her & am finding myself happy, thrilled to be with her. maybe it is our Impending Anniversary or maybe it is the new cute-girl specs she has (red! indie! red!) or maybe i don't know. i'll hush before i turn giggly.
i hope she does not mind.
she is turning around in the next room & is i think calling out my name so i will see what this is all about. & get dressed & go to mass & come home & do a lot of What Looks Like Nothing But Is Actually Quite Rewarding, like making you a hefty stack o' tapes.
qui a vol� le r�ve de l'enfant?
c'est Krank, le m�chant savant.
