In Which Heroine Betrays Unbecoming Spite
Jul. 14th, 2014 09:07 amStill not sleeping. Anxious, anxious, anxious. Also hot. Really, really hot. Hard time mobilizing myself.
Pleasant enough weekend drinking vast quantities of beer at the Coney Island On Tap Craft Beer Festival on Saturday and on Sunday, doing a work session with BB at his and Claudia’s little Catskills cabin. Painted finger and toe nails purple for the former. Got amped on BB’s caffeinated rocket fuel at the latter. Collaboration promises to be very productive, and I’m so happy BB suggested working together. Plot is really strong. I always knew BB was super smart, but I don’t think I realized just how smart he is until I saw how fast his learning curve is on this thriller stuff. He is science-fiction-y bright.
Long phone chat with Max Sunday evening. Seems to have patched things up with the beautiful, intelligent but distinctly self-involved Mizz L. She is definitely angling to be the objet du desir there, and wants Max to be the eternal lover. He’s smart enough to see that but in love enough not to overly resist.
Gotta be careful there – if he does end up marrying her and she is the mother of my unborn grandchildren, I know full well that she’s not the type of person who brooks critical mien in any respect. Best that she sees me as an eccentric, goofy, lovable Golden Girls-type senior citizen if I want to enjoy full access to my F2 DNA.
“I had so much fun at that beer festival,” I told Max. “Everyone was just so… carefree. And I thought, Damn. I wish I could be carefree.”
“Why aren’t you?” Max asked.
“I don’t know. But I do know that’s one thing I’ve never been in my life. Carefree. It’s kind of a combination of happy and spontaneous, you know? And I’ve been happy, and I’ve been spontaneous. But never both at the same time.”
“You could learn,” Max said. “Why don’t you?”
“I don’t know. I’m taking a Bollywood dancing class. Is that carefree?”
“It’s a start.”
“And what have you been up to?”
“We were down in Santa Cruz. I hung out with Annie and Stew.”
“How are they?”
“They’re cool. They’re recording an album in his sound studio. We played music together.”
“Good. Good. Oh! How’s Rik doing?”
“Oh, didn’t you know? Rik is dead.”
Oh.
Not sure what I feel about that. If anything. I was positive he wasn’t going to survive, that however much Alicia was in denial, Janet had brought him home to die, and that anyway, between the dementia and the ICU, the Rik I was so fond of once had left the building long ago.
And just because he’s dead, I don’t forgive him.
I suppose because I view myself as deeply wronged in our last series of interactions.
The dead people I agonize over – lots and lots of those – are people that I feel in some way that I’ve wronged.
But I never wronged Rik. So no drinks for him in Bardo. And I’m not going to sit next to him and listen to his fucking stories either. I hope he gets reincarnated as a ragpicker in Lagos or a corpse cleaner in Varanasi. Or a cockroach.
Pleasant enough weekend drinking vast quantities of beer at the Coney Island On Tap Craft Beer Festival on Saturday and on Sunday, doing a work session with BB at his and Claudia’s little Catskills cabin. Painted finger and toe nails purple for the former. Got amped on BB’s caffeinated rocket fuel at the latter. Collaboration promises to be very productive, and I’m so happy BB suggested working together. Plot is really strong. I always knew BB was super smart, but I don’t think I realized just how smart he is until I saw how fast his learning curve is on this thriller stuff. He is science-fiction-y bright.
Long phone chat with Max Sunday evening. Seems to have patched things up with the beautiful, intelligent but distinctly self-involved Mizz L. She is definitely angling to be the objet du desir there, and wants Max to be the eternal lover. He’s smart enough to see that but in love enough not to overly resist.
Gotta be careful there – if he does end up marrying her and she is the mother of my unborn grandchildren, I know full well that she’s not the type of person who brooks critical mien in any respect. Best that she sees me as an eccentric, goofy, lovable Golden Girls-type senior citizen if I want to enjoy full access to my F2 DNA.
“I had so much fun at that beer festival,” I told Max. “Everyone was just so… carefree. And I thought, Damn. I wish I could be carefree.”
“Why aren’t you?” Max asked.
“I don’t know. But I do know that’s one thing I’ve never been in my life. Carefree. It’s kind of a combination of happy and spontaneous, you know? And I’ve been happy, and I’ve been spontaneous. But never both at the same time.”
“You could learn,” Max said. “Why don’t you?”
“I don’t know. I’m taking a Bollywood dancing class. Is that carefree?”
“It’s a start.”
“And what have you been up to?”
“We were down in Santa Cruz. I hung out with Annie and Stew.”
“How are they?”
“They’re cool. They’re recording an album in his sound studio. We played music together.”
“Good. Good. Oh! How’s Rik doing?”
“Oh, didn’t you know? Rik is dead.”
Oh.
Not sure what I feel about that. If anything. I was positive he wasn’t going to survive, that however much Alicia was in denial, Janet had brought him home to die, and that anyway, between the dementia and the ICU, the Rik I was so fond of once had left the building long ago.
And just because he’s dead, I don’t forgive him.
I suppose because I view myself as deeply wronged in our last series of interactions.
The dead people I agonize over – lots and lots of those – are people that I feel in some way that I’ve wronged.
But I never wronged Rik. So no drinks for him in Bardo. And I’m not going to sit next to him and listen to his fucking stories either. I hope he gets reincarnated as a ragpicker in Lagos or a corpse cleaner in Varanasi. Or a cockroach.
no subject
Date: 2014-07-15 04:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-07-15 02:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-07-15 04:21 pm (UTC)Anyhow, yes, it looks like I'll be spending my August in scenic Bushwick, Brooklyn.
no subject
Date: 2014-07-15 04:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-07-18 07:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-07-15 09:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-07-15 02:45 pm (UTC)No Drinks For Him In Bardo
Date: 2014-07-15 04:03 pm (UTC)Re: No Drinks For Him In Bardo
Date: 2014-07-15 04:12 pm (UTC)Re: No Drinks For Him In Bardo
Date: 2014-07-15 04:31 pm (UTC)Re: No Drinks For Him In Bardo
Date: 2014-07-15 05:21 pm (UTC)