Word to the wise, kid: don't just go blithely reaching your hand into that bag with the razor blades in it.
Good mail from Hot Whiskey and Ryan Murphy.
Just discovered where I stashed all those books I bought last month. Fernando Pessoa has been hiding under my sofa.
Going to work on a new Big Game chapbook this weekend. I'm also coming up to NYC on Sunday for businessy goodness on Monday. I am going to hit the bookstores. And hopefully eat guacamole. Mmm.
I no longer know what to do about NPR. The bumps on the morning news get weirder and weirder. I just heard "Setting Sun" by the Chemical Bros. Aren't NPR's bumps supposed to be all classical music and noodly jazz?
Best costumes: a 10 year old kid with a ridiculously outre "Blade" costume; a long-suffering four year old whose parents had dressed him up as an airplane (a ridiculous cardboard, silver-spray painted getup).
Made a teenage girl's night by correctly identifying her as Ariel, the little mermaid (how many other red haired, blue-green tailed mermaids d'ya know?) I too know the sorrow of the kid with the unidentifiable costume: I once went as a totem pole in a meticulously researched costume only to be called a candy bar, and most mortifyingly, "Gumby." Whatevs.
Funniest kid: chubby little girl with tiny fuzzy wings strapped to her back and pipe cleaner antennae who walked straight up to me, and deadpanned, "I'm a butterfly." "And you're beee-yoot-iful!" I said back.
I did sort of flip out at work around 5 p.m. and now I feel like an idiot. Casualties: a broken plastic "outbox" tray and some annoyed paralegals. Oh well.
Today I realized why my bathroom is always so cold -- and why I occasionally find leaves in it. There's a four-inch gap between the top window pane and the window frame. Like four inches of plain old open-to-the-air-space. I fixed this by pushing the window pane back up and then locking it into place with the bottom frame.
I have been living here for over a year and never noticed. Mark often comments on my inability to notice things I am not already prepared to notice. Like angry clowns in the park or people with horrible disabilities.
Today I am hoping to leave work early enough to get home and give out candy to the thousands of tiny children that litter my neighborhood. I carved two pumpkins to adorn my stoop, so that my house will be properly marked as a place of candified goodness.
There's nothing particularly wrong. I just feel cringy. Perhaps I'll spend some time under my desk, being secretive.
Then you should come out to the Burlesque Poetry Hour tonight at 8. All of those things will be present and accounted for.
Now, alack, I must go to work.