Tuesday, February 25, 2003
the monkey saw a Very Artsy Show in manhattan, and now he's come up with a new genre: Wooster Poop.
the photographs for class are the usual heartening, human mix of fuck up and surprise-nice. i ran into twitchy casting director outside my house, at the bus stop, again yesterday. monkey's theory is that he is human in new york and scrabble-bag-of-nerves outside. this may be true, because he was only hours away from the city and while he still paced and checked for the bus every second he was talking to me (which, in reality--it's so rude, it's amusing. i can't describe it), he actually smiled and seemed engaged.
i just listened to two men with the same name play a song just for me, live on new york radio. who knew there'd be anything so good as running out of things to say? i'm going there, and everyone will be my friend.
is it really just a gradual process of reducing worry? is that the . . . thing?
so. gradual.
the photographs for class are the usual heartening, human mix of fuck up and surprise-nice. i ran into twitchy casting director outside my house, at the bus stop, again yesterday. monkey's theory is that he is human in new york and scrabble-bag-of-nerves outside. this may be true, because he was only hours away from the city and while he still paced and checked for the bus every second he was talking to me (which, in reality--it's so rude, it's amusing. i can't describe it), he actually smiled and seemed engaged.
i just listened to two men with the same name play a song just for me, live on new york radio. who knew there'd be anything so good as running out of things to say? i'm going there, and everyone will be my friend.
is it really just a gradual process of reducing worry? is that the . . . thing?
so. gradual.
