last night it did a reading at the dirt palace, which i had been tearing my hair out over for the whole week previous. it went pretty ok. mike t said the writing was smart but i was talking too fast, which (the fastness) i had anticipated but decided to do nothing about. typical. i mostly read journal entries and it went over well, people laughing at the funny parts and such. right about smack dab in the middle i snuck in a passage from “rememberance of things past”, disguised as another diary entry. lots of people came up to me later saying “i really enjoyed that longer one!”. i fessed up immediately and consequently a lot of people went home with “marcel proust - rememberance of things past” written in ballpoint pen on the backs of their hands. considering that my musical shows are always intercut with enourmous sections of just me talking, i figured it would be best if i interspersed the reading with music, so i brought a shmaltzy nostalgic piano album (john wallowitch “this is…”, which is actually /the/ shmaltzy piano album) and seeded the night liberally with random needle drops. it was good. the theme for me was nostalgia- the snow is melting, revealing a winter’s worth of forgotten lawn trash, and as for me, i think i reached an acceptable ratio of getting pumped for the future by looking at the past, and honest (for what it’s worth) pathology. hung out at the dirt palace for a while afterwards- “no boys, babies, heroin, dogs, or reality tv”.
today i helped jenine move (because i lways help people move) and she bought me and matt coe french fries falafel soda pop and soy dogs w/ sauerkraut. tonight i’m just chilling at mike’s house spending a quiet night reading comic books. bigfoot paul’s cooking up some grub, and he got the maltese falcon dvd from the library.
oh, i almost forgot, i added to my list “tick tack” “rick rack”, and “riff raff”. tiffiniy, i’m still abstaining from “tick tock”. and “tighty whities”.
