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And a good morning to you. The day’s off to a rocky start, but I’m not letting that get me down quite yet. The corner store was out of cream, so I’m drinking my coffee with whole milk instead and making a go of it.
Packing packing packing, that’s what I’ve been doing. I got a bunch of stuff over to the Fakehouse and that’s getting in pretty good shape but my god! When did I get this much stuff? I thought I got rid of all these records! And the old love letters and photos, my god. Pictures of that time J made me pick him up and take him to Pat’s because he was too drunk to drive, then he housed two cheesesteaks on the hood of my car and made me drive him back to his and then he hit the road?
Isn’t this interesting? Reading about all these trinkets I’ve found, reminders of days gone by? Sorry Ben, moving is just lame. Writing letters about it is even lamer, I guess.
It was nice to see you and G this weekend before all that though. It was a good, easy night. Sitting in Abe Lincoln Center, watching three 60 foot people dancing impossibly slowly. I was so hungry I wanted to die. If only I’d found a Papaya Dog, we could have stayed there all night.