funnel cakes,
speaking of bad monkeys. another scientific certainty that really yanks my pigtails is the whole speed of light thing. it's not so much whether it has slowed down or sped up over time, it's the whole "nothing can go faster than..." routine they always pull on you when your jet blasters are revving up. You're ready to travel at the speed of magic and they tell you, "err, excuse me sir but you cannot travel faster than the speed of light or you will be cited by the Sun Police," and I just gotta give them the big pizza nose (yknow, the intergalactic sign of disrespect).
The Sun Police remind me too much of Scientologists. Always trying to keep you in line, remind you who's boss.
My awesome neighbors, Mary and Hovik, are so rad. they are completely sweet humans and they truly grok the special secret magic of Sloopy, my dog. They love him and they keep saying, "He's so nice!" People can't believe a dog can be so gentle and heavenly soft. Of course, i can't believe two people can be so gentle and heavenly soft. Mary and Hovik like to walk Sloopy down to the corner. We play on the lawn of the children's school. Mostly though we just sit because Sloopy is not doing so hot lately.
Mary and Hovik have some family in Iraq. They also have family in Armenia. Hovik doesn't speak much English yet, I think he's about six, but Mary said that their parents don't understand why we all can't live together in peace. Their parents are deep Americans, in the deepest sense of the word, to me. They fled the Turks and came to America, a young sexy Armenian couple with dreams of surviving together, of children, of life. Life. They have two beautiful kids now and they work their asses off and they have an American flag and they are salt of the earth people. But you can tell they are tired. They seem sad. They're sad and tired. Of course their lives are better now and their kids' lives are better, but I think they're sad and on top of it they don't feel sexy anymore. If I could wish anything for them, I would wish them to feel sexy again. They need time away from their kids. But I digress.
I told Mary I was sorry she had to experience this kind of ugly grown-up bad war stuff. But then I thought, well, when I was her age we were mixed up in Iran and Iraq too; we were involved in Afghanistan; we were making nuclear bombs and killing people in Central America and Southeast Asia. I grew up in times kind of like this. I almost felt like, I don't know, some kind of deja vu.
Still in L.A.
5 p.m. still feels the same here as it did then: cars, pink sky, palm trees, some kind of sadness.
The 5 p.m. melancholy; the L.A. sunset aching feelings; the longing of childhood: it's really just the sadness of this world. this sad and beautiful world.
now i must go drink much more whiskey.
peace
kate
speaking of bad monkeys. another scientific certainty that really yanks my pigtails is the whole speed of light thing. it's not so much whether it has slowed down or sped up over time, it's the whole "nothing can go faster than..." routine they always pull on you when your jet blasters are revving up. You're ready to travel at the speed of magic and they tell you, "err, excuse me sir but you cannot travel faster than the speed of light or you will be cited by the Sun Police," and I just gotta give them the big pizza nose (yknow, the intergalactic sign of disrespect).
The Sun Police remind me too much of Scientologists. Always trying to keep you in line, remind you who's boss.
My awesome neighbors, Mary and Hovik, are so rad. they are completely sweet humans and they truly grok the special secret magic of Sloopy, my dog. They love him and they keep saying, "He's so nice!" People can't believe a dog can be so gentle and heavenly soft. Of course, i can't believe two people can be so gentle and heavenly soft. Mary and Hovik like to walk Sloopy down to the corner. We play on the lawn of the children's school. Mostly though we just sit because Sloopy is not doing so hot lately.
Mary and Hovik have some family in Iraq. They also have family in Armenia. Hovik doesn't speak much English yet, I think he's about six, but Mary said that their parents don't understand why we all can't live together in peace. Their parents are deep Americans, in the deepest sense of the word, to me. They fled the Turks and came to America, a young sexy Armenian couple with dreams of surviving together, of children, of life. Life. They have two beautiful kids now and they work their asses off and they have an American flag and they are salt of the earth people. But you can tell they are tired. They seem sad. They're sad and tired. Of course their lives are better now and their kids' lives are better, but I think they're sad and on top of it they don't feel sexy anymore. If I could wish anything for them, I would wish them to feel sexy again. They need time away from their kids. But I digress.
I told Mary I was sorry she had to experience this kind of ugly grown-up bad war stuff. But then I thought, well, when I was her age we were mixed up in Iran and Iraq too; we were involved in Afghanistan; we were making nuclear bombs and killing people in Central America and Southeast Asia. I grew up in times kind of like this. I almost felt like, I don't know, some kind of deja vu.
Still in L.A.
5 p.m. still feels the same here as it did then: cars, pink sky, palm trees, some kind of sadness.
The 5 p.m. melancholy; the L.A. sunset aching feelings; the longing of childhood: it's really just the sadness of this world. this sad and beautiful world.
now i must go drink much more whiskey.
peace
kate
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