mallorys_camera: (Default)
[personal profile] mallorys_camera
Still 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.

Date: 2014-07-15 04:44 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] original-broad.livejournal.com
Still loving your writing. Wish I could keep up.

Date: 2014-07-15 02:44 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mallorys-camera.livejournal.com
Hey! You have a life. Did you decide to come East?

Date: 2014-07-15 04:21 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] original-broad.livejournal.com
You have a life too! And we all used to have lives when we all used to post here all the time before the dawn of Facecrack. I say it's no excuse!!
Anyhow, yes, it looks like I'll be spending my August in scenic Bushwick, Brooklyn.

Date: 2014-07-15 04:27 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mallorys-camera.livejournal.com
Great! Can we meet for an adventure?

Date: 2014-07-18 07:45 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] original-broad.livejournal.com
I'd love to. I bet there are still some remaining little secret NY corners each of us knows of...

Date: 2014-07-15 09:52 am (UTC)
alexkaufmann: (Default)
From: [personal profile] alexkaufmann
Other people appear happy and carefree because you are not privy to their internal dialogues the way you are to your own.

Date: 2014-07-15 02:45 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mallorys-camera.livejournal.com
I don't know if that's really true. I tend to come down on the melancholy side because of the way I was raised.

No Drinks For Him In Bardo

Date: 2014-07-15 04:03 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] robby.livejournal.com
Bardo must be a sort of bar. I don't think you can a get a drink is Purgatory, and everyone in Limbo is too young to drink.

Re: No Drinks For Him In Bardo

Date: 2014-07-15 04:12 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] robby.livejournal.com
There are two Limbos, one a temporary place fort he Patriarchs, and I'll bet at least beer and wine are served there.

Re: No Drinks For Him In Bardo

Date: 2014-07-15 04:31 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mallorys-camera.livejournal.com
I've always pictured Bardo as a kind of roadside tavern where you're forced to wait out the administrative details between reincarnations. But I believe the Tibetans see it more as the Haunted Mansion ride at a really rundown amusement park.

Re: No Drinks For Him In Bardo

Date: 2014-07-15 05:21 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] robby.livejournal.com
Well, if It does turn out to be tavern, and a wizened East Indian is selling hotdogs, ask him to make you one with everything.

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