Friday, April 29, 2016

Bobby G's Pizzeria

One of the fucking awesome guys who works here snapped a few pictures of us and came over with a grin. "I showed this to my staff and some of my regulars," he said, "and I said, you see this family? This is what it's all about, you assholes."

Thursday, April 21, 2016

Annie Proulx, "Postcards"

Marcus said this passage reminded him of me:

"When she turned the ignition key and steered the car out of the drive, the gravel crunching deliciously under the tires, she went dizzy with power for the first time in her adult life. The radio played 'Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White', and she was glad. She felt she was young and in a movie when she drove. She had never guessed at the pleasure of choosing which turns and roads to take, where to stop. Nor the rushing air buffeting her face and whipping her iron hair as though it were child's hair. As though they had given her the whole country for her own. Did men, she wondered, have this feeling of lightness, of wiping out all troubles when they got into their cars or trucks? Their faces did not show any special pleasure when they drove. Men understood nothing of the profound sameness, week after week, after month of the same narrow rooms, treading the same worn footpaths to the clothesline, the garden. You soon knew it all by heart. Your mind closed in to the problems of cracked glass, feeling for pennies in linty coat pockets, sour milk. You couldn't get away from troubles. They came dragging into the mirror with you, fanning over the snow, fillled the dirty sink. Men couldn't imagine women's lives, they seemed to believe, as in a religion, that women were numbed by an instinctive craving to fill the wet mouths of babies, predestined to choose always the petty points of life on which to hang their attention until at last all ended and began with the orifices of the body. She had believed this herself. And wondered in the blue nights if what she truly felt now was not the pleasure of driving but being cast free of Mink's furious anger. He had crushed her into a corner of life.

"Coming back from her journeys, from seeing houses set in a hundred positions, some beside the road, some back in a knot of trees like a brooch on a hill's breast, her own house showed up as a slatternly lean of paintless clapboards, the porch slipping away like melting butterscotch."

Saturday, April 16, 2016

Adam: "A good old Landa rant"

"Don't ever feel sorry for me. I have everything I want. I always had me."

Ava Adore

Listening to the Smashing Pumpkins on a Saturday morning, thinking about the conversation on the drive home from Santa Cruz yesterday. There is definite grit in Adam's and my history, and most of it takes place before we ever officially got together. We fought so many fights. Ultimately we resorted to getting nearly blackout drunk every time we saw each other because we couldn't handle our feelings for one another.

The result: the love of a goddamned lifetime.

It's you that I adore
You'll always be my whore
You'll be a mother to my child
And a child to my heart
We must never be apart
We must never be apart


Lovely girl you're the beauty in my world
Without you there are no reasons left to find


And I'll pull your crooked teeth
You'll be perfect just like me
You'll be a lover in my bed
And a gun to my head
We must never be apart
We must never be apart


Lovely girl you're the murder in my world
Dressing coffins for the souls I've left to die
Drinking mercury
To the mystery
Of all that you should ever leave behind
In time


In you I see dirty
In you I count stars
In you I feel so pretty
In you I taste god
In you I feel so hungry
In you I crash cars
We must never be apart


Drinking mercury
To the mystery
Of all that you should ever seek to find
Lovely girl you're the murder in my world
Dressing coffins for the souls I've left behind
In time


We must never be apart

And you'll always be my whore
'Cause you're the one that I adore
And I'll pull your crooked teeth
You'll be perfect just like me
In you I feel so dirty in you I crash cars
In you I feel so pretty in you I taste god
We must never be apart



Friday, April 15, 2016

Caffe Pergolesi


I used to come down here all the time. Who the hell ever knew that I would be here with my husband and baby? If you told me that, I would laugh. But it's my birthday gift, and so instead I just smile.

Wednesday, April 6, 2016

Monday, April 4, 2016

Last night

Baz was sleeping, I was inebriated, and we were listening to Spotify. I was spouting stupid philosophy about somatic memory to Adam, lying on his chest with eyes half-closed.

"The pseudo-science in that," he said, "is like nails on a chalkboard."

THIS is why I did not marry someone like me. I love him more than I can say.