i like november, even if "november" is a bitter, depressing tom waits song.
i like that addie will be here this weekend & that her spicy-hearty dinner-party will be at my house, which i cleaned yesterday not ferociously as i usually do, but calmly. (maybe it was the talking-to-jeff, the half-watching-the-television, during, instead of the listening-to-loud-music that i usually do.)
tonight, oh heaven, bean & i are going to see future bible heroes at the andy warhol. i say we will but surely it cannot be. surely my heart will explode somewhere on I-70. it cannot be true. the explosion will happen where the hills somehow rise up out of the flat.
(to humble myself & regale others. the other day i was tending to a patient who doesn't speak english but speaks a very good, clear spanish & probably thinks i am a bumbling fool based on my own grasp of her language, & anyway i set her up for surgery & was telling her who her doctor was, reassuring her that i would be in the room with her, & then i meant to say "regresaremos pronto," but said instead, "regalaremos.")
(it means not "we will return soon" but "we will give you presents.")
