bean has come down with a cold, which makes my new job that of bearing tea & orange juice, & keeping quiet while she is sleeping.
i am trying not to get sick, myself. i am trying to keep my head on straight. always when i was small i would get sad & testy in the weeks before my birthday. this lasted until i was in high school, when i was more or less sad & testy on a constant basis. in the past couple of years it doesn't happen so much anymore (maybe because it was somehow school-year-related, maybe because now the brunt of my calendar cathexes are in september & in march, maybe because i just got over it a little), but still: i remind myself not to fall into the pits of sadness & testiness.
& yes i have decided to go to kentucky for a whirlwind 24-hour tour (plus about 10 hours of driving, probably). i am touching all kinds of superstitious wood in hopes that i can convince my brother to be the one to bring me back to ohio on christmas night. i like to think of us sitting in the increasingly-glam living room, singing. i like to think of inviting over whoever happens to be in town that night for a christmas dinner. i love my father & am glad that he will come up to ohio, stay the night, on the twenty-third, before we commence the whirlwind tour, but i am selfish, i want jonathan here for the real night.
also, i am selfish, i want it to snow. & to snow on my birthday.
:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:from an article printed in the paper today, about andy warhol's neices & nephews & how they sold a soup can painting for a million-plus:
The children used to play masquerade in Warhol's old wigs � each originally intended for a different social function in Warhol's life � which he handed down to his older brother. On some days the house would be filled with children in strange white mops.
yes yes this is what's getting me through the day. j-lee says something absurd to me & i just shut down, see the little warhola kids in their uncle's white wigs.
