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Taking deep breaths

Just finished writing a long entry in my shared journal with my friend Christopher. The journal is an old tradition of ours, recently resurrected, in which we write, then send it back and forth to one another across the country. Over the years I've grown less accustomed to writing longhand, and I had much to write. In the wrong hands, that journal would be scandalous. That's how I know I wrote the truth.

Gerald Diamond is tickling the ivories (as well as the ebonies, one would assume) in the background here at Victrola. Gerry is an ancient, bespectacled, balding, white-haired gentleman, impeccably attired in a vest, knickers, and stockings (his headgear alternates between a bicycle helmet and a wide-brimmed straw hat). He plays each Saturday. A listener has interrupted him to give him a hug.

My day is unplanned, other than a couple of necessary phone calls for work. Tonight I could come see the Trachtenberg Family Slideshow Players, or go to the Pedro the Lion show, but I may simply stay home. I have the luxury of choosing whichever option gives me the most energy.

Finally got to watch the Buffy season finale on tape. Redeemed the season for me in many respects.

Time for another chapter of The Sacred Romance, I think.

Comments

'knickers.'

*hoots*