I feel like Santino imitating Tim Gunn robotic-style only instead of saying "Make it work," I'm saying "Downstairs in the auditorium. Downstairs in the auditorium. Downstairs in the auditorium."
There's a program right now in the auditorium.
Obviously.
I'm having a bit of trouble lately with my reading material. Post-Anna I read Oscar Wao and then quick like a bunny read some Ask the Dust by John Fante which despite it's Bukowskiness was underwhelming and then I started Among Other Things I've Taken Up Smoking which I believe I found on GoodReads and though it has prompted me to put 2 different translations of Ovid's Metamorphoses on hold, it has ultimately been a disappointment and I'm anxiously awaiting my copy of The Yiddish Policeman's Union (next Coen brothers project, by the way) and am dangerously close to the end of this Smoking business.
It might be a good time for some short stories. Or maybe some poetry.
Speaking of, tomorrow night we're going to see Mark Yakich at Hope. We're Butch-ing it up first for a martini and then we'll grab some food elsewhere. Grey Goose vodka and poetry will be delicious.
3 am Sunday morning found me awake and alone with a Cadbury Creme egg and an idea for a series of essays. That's all I'm willing to say at this point, but it might end up being a sprawling mess of a manifesto.
I'd like to thank the sun and rising temperatures for giving me something to look forward to.
And read this.
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1 comment:
i heard there was a program, can you point me in the right direction?
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