songs: the temptation of adam, josh ritter; foregone, the decemberists; the park, feist; big jet plane, angus and julia stone, wagon wheel, old crow medicine show; a record year for rainfall, the decemberists.
It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything in this blog that wasn’t about the Marriage Project, but my head feels a little clearer today, being on the Lower East Side in a new coffee shop, where lots of cute dogs march by the window. I want to eat some gd damn dumplings from Vanessa’s, even if I have to wait in line, which I probably will. (Jami Attenberg tweeted once that she wanted to go to the Fairway in Red Hook and buy some gd damn cheese. I find this charming.)
The ankle is sore, but not in a boot or a cast anymore, although I’m now afraid of crossing the street or walking down stairs. I could my ankle would snap like a pretzel, the bone disintegrating into salty dust.
I have a pile of writing to do, and I feel fried by it all, except for the people running around in my head. They’re loud. I keep making doodles and and thinking about California. I want to do a million sketchbook pages and read and take photos and drink a lot of coffee. And eat Brooklyn, as though I were a spoon.