It's only May and my skin is already beginning to darken, between softball (in which I am improving, though that's not saying much), and the garden, and the left side darker than the right from driving around listening to Mudhoney, ending the night at a friend's birthday party where an attempt to have a night of music-making turned into something resembling an unplanned performance art piece, as the kids were banging on pots and pans while the grownups gamely tried to coordinate ourselves through basic three chordishness.
My life has become so much more quiet and the noise was something I've become unaccustomed too, but it felt good to play music with new people even if I didn't have my own guitar and beloved Silvertone and my hands were clumsy.
too much coffee yet again. I should have been sleeping by now, not drinking tea and listening to Siouxsie and procrastinating on doing any writing or anything useful.
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4 comments:
See what happens when ye imbibe too much of that sober and pleasante drinke, chords a' fumblin', though one can imagine a future Desert Sessions except not in the middle of a patch of sand.
Very excited that I will retain the title of library's palest employee. Thanks, Serrano.
Word verification: sybermun, the Scottish Supermoon of Doom?
howz yer underlying anxiety level?
Randal,
I miss the weekly Desert Sessions-style get togethers I used to have after work before everyone I played with got coupled off, scattered to the four winds, or relapsed.
It's hard to maintain those cafe suntans. I applaud you for your (lack of?) effort.
dmf,
angst on here usually involves some combination of sleeplessness, estrogen, and not being able to turn off my brain. Between the incomprehensible peace of God and having some positive outlets for catharsis, I do ok.
i can relate, just keeping an eye on the old undertow, have you read any kevin brockmeier?
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