On the perils of using rubber cement in bed
Oh, today has been lovely. I slept until I wasn't tired. I woke up and talked to Jeff, an internet friend who had disappeared outright. I showered and dressed and strode around campus. My friends went into the city, but I rejected the bad air and traffic and chose to stay home. I cleaned my room, hung a snowflake on my window, and smiled all day long.
I spent my day reading Renaissance lyric poetry out loud (if you want to hear how that sounds, you can but it is not pretty). Astrophil and Stella, ah, I have a favourite poem and I will read it properly when I get the chance. I record myself, and listen to the poem as I read it over again, and it helps me get a good handle on the poem.
I spent the day cleaning up my CD collection, listening to Bob Wills, Chet Baker and Stan Getz, Laura Nyro, Virginia Williams, and Sleater Kinney, oh, it was a good music day. Sometimes I get in a rut and forget to change my music, but I listened to things I haven't heard in years and they were wonderful. Virginia Williams does a verison of Nature Boy, and it gives me goosebumps. I can't quite picture what I'm going to play tomorrow on the radio, I know a few shoe-ins but I'm almost afraid that if I play every song I love I will run out of ideas.
Now I can hear crickets and peeping insects, and perhaps even frogs out in the darkness. My room is warm and lit up, and I am making postcards in bed. I spilled rubber cement everywhere, and made postcards so lovely that I almost want to keep them for myself.
Now we are going to go watch The Stepford Wives. I am afraid they won't like it, and I always feel responsible when my suggestions go awry. But I think everyone needs to see this movie, because it's the most hilarious thing ever made. It's so heavy handed, and so earnest, it's really funny.
The other day at lunch my friend came up to me, and said in a clear, quick tone that she wanted to apologize for teasing me last night. (I had lost my ID card in the most blatantly obvious place.) I had forgotten that she had even teased me, and I was just so touched by the flurry of kindness. I was just blown away, swept off my feet, knocked over with a feather, and melted with love for her. What warmth of spirit! I was startled out of my wits.
Oh, I want to tell Melissa that if she comes and lives with me in a little house in Maine we can live on red yellow honey, sassafras and moonshine. I want to whisk her away and live with her for a year and write with her. I am only a little selfish. I'm rediculously serious too. Pipe dreams are fun but making them real is even more fun.
2002-09-21, On the perils of using rubber cement in bed
before / after
archives / website / hello book / diaryland