when i go a while without driving i forget how much i enjoy it (obligatory ferrick link here). in fact i fret about perhaps-having-forgotten how. bollocks. i slid behind the wheel like a pro this morning and fit so nicely there i continued driving through most of the day, from errand to errand to lana’s house way out in the ‘burbs. we watched little women, our second women-centered dress drama in two days where the characters end either dead or married. a century ago or more i suppose there were fewer options. why on earth would anyone want to live in any time except the present? or is that just me being time-ist?
when we were done weeping over beth and reconciling to laurie+amy, we crawled out onto her roof with the latest issue of bitch — ooh, read the frontpage article — to grrl-talk and take pictures of each other looking cute. this successfully put out of mind the young gentleman’s pre-noon departure. he joined me in my limbo so easy-going-like; just with him, i felt better. henry james, my parasite, faded to near-insignificance, as though he knew immediately he couldn’t compete. he can go the way of daisy miller for all i care. hj, that is, not ben.
i’m listening to imperfectly, the lyrics of which consistently surprise me. vintage ani, aged 20 years: strangers are exciting, their mystery never ends, but there’s nothing like looking at your own history in the faces of your friends …