It’s dangerous being alive. Anything could happen and there’s no way to know what that might be.
I want to stay up all night but I need to wake up early.
The people who sit on two subways seats by sitting on the seam between two seats, thereby rendering the seats on either side of the seam un sit upon able really tick me off. Move over you skinny bitch! This is the morning commute!
Dinner out with a friend and she said “it’s not enough to be not racist, you must be anti-racist.” Been thinking a lot about that. Talked to Dave about it. This is a new, conscious goal. Be anti-racist. Good friend.
I wish I’d seen Amy Winehouse live.
C and I are sooooo ready for vacation. We are counting the days.
We put C in two camps this summer. He liked BAX Camp best. I hope they liked him, because hopefully they’ll see lots more of him next summer.
I’m super glad I’m not working full time for a regular job right now. When I’m full time I feel like I can’t breathe. Time to do my own shit is so necessary.
I’ve been writing little motivational messages to myself. I’d feel like a dolt except they actually make me feel motivated.
At the end of the month it will be a year since I started consistently working out. Yay me! I want a heart that can pump iron. I want to live forever. I don’t understand the impulse against immortality; it sounds amazing to me.
I want to start a new thing where I pop a bottle of champagne when I’ve finished a new full length, or at least like the first good draft. Y’know, throw a little welcome to the world of letters party for the script. Which means I’m overdue, because last week I finished a good draft of my new play Hippopotamus. It’s about 4 moms who all have kids in the same pre-K, and yes, it’s rather crass at times.
NYC has a cold brew conspiracy going. I hate cold brew. I just want coffee with ice in it. Wtf happened NYC? Why you gotta push this bitter concoction?
I like how adult everyone is on Star Trek TNG. I go through life like a wayward child, but it gives me hope that these fictional astronauts know how to behave in life, how to take action, how to direct their own lives.
There are so many beggars in the financial district. It feels useless to help one person in the face of such vast need. But each is an individual, not affected by the relative boons or hardships of their peers.
C is not a big fan of camp. That’s what he says when I ask “how was camp?” He says “we played dodge ball, I’m not a big fan of dodge ball.” Is anyone a big fan of dodge ball? Why is this torture still being inflicted on unsuspecting children? It’s ludicrous.
Dave and I share the same tastes only from a very specific time in our lives. Now we don’t read the same things, listen to the same music, share the same interest in tv or movies. He reads the news, I read novels. I like new music, and have an ever-changing playlist, he likes old jazz, soul, r&b. He wants to watch Sons of Anarchy while I want to catch up on Charmed (I know it’s old, but I never watched it for some reason having to do with the episode of Who’s the Boss where Alyssa Milano wanted pre-distressed jeans, which I now realize isn’t a reason because I love badass witches.) I like either exquisite films or stupid stoner comedies. I nearly fell off the couch watching Hot Tub Time Machine. Dave likes classics. So the other night we realized this when we were listening to music. I put on Air (not that new, but I thought he’d like it), and he hated it, and put on Benny Goodman live from Carnegie Hall about a million years ago. We compromised by listening to Galaxie 500, which we both love, and is from that time in our lives where we liked the same things.
Walking behind the slow person on the stairs at Atlantic Avenue is almost enough to make me violent.
Being a kid is super hard. I’m watching C experience a lot of what I remember about childhood. Which is that other kids suck, and no one gets you, not even your mom, no matter how hard she tries. It’s okay, I’ll keep trying.