I won’t lie to you–sometimes nomadic life sucks balls.
It’s amazing how hard it is for me to not work.
Hey, kids! Feels like forever, doesn’t it?
I’m sitting here listening to “Dink’s Song” (the film soundtrack version) trying to get a little bit sad, because I’m so excited about getting on the road again that I’ve been nauseous and headachy and keep waking up every two hours at night, thinking of things that I’m about to do and see.
Jamie left yesterday…and I hardly had time to feel bad about it because news shortly came that Laurel’s flight had been delayed three hours in St. Louis. The search for wifi took me on a tortuous tour of the town of Riverhead (at least I think that’s where I am…these little New England towns run together so), and the dismal necessity of teaching a novice bartender (and his manager!) how to make a proper whiskey sour (with earnest but lackluster results) kept my mind occupied.
The light fell just as I passed through Hannibal, Mo. and the rest of the drive to Bloomington was shrouded in darkness and rain and that was just fine with me. Being back here is spooky. I was glad not to have to look at it. Read more
The other night, I shared a very great secret, in French, to an audience of expats from Colombia and Cuba. It was my 31st birthday, and they were asking what my hopes and dreams were for the coming year. Read more
At last I know where the Amish are coming from when they abjure cameras, fearing the theft of their souls.
Rachel has the soft willowy elegance of a former ballerina, and I only hope that my red lipstick can keep pace with her. Read more