Big weekend. Too much sleep. Burritos from a gorgeous stand on the 9G with funny skinny Bard students at next picnic table. Drivin' on 9, 9G, 9H, 9 9 9 9 9. So much of the 9 up here. Neighbors who were screwing over my sweet landlord got evicted (hows that for the whole point of "fuckin' go" last week) and the funny downstairs neighbor admitted he still cannot tell the difference between me and my friend I share the writing studio with which is hilarious because I don't think we'd ever be put in the same lineup or anything.
It wasn't news: his normal greeting for either of us is "WHO ARE YOU??" and we've been up in this joint for months now, since March I think.
Porch sitting, snack eating, love the little pretty laundromat cafe around the corner all orange and yellow and nice and with internet. Stars. Dog. Writing. One of my friends didn't recognize my voice on the phone, I guess my voice sounds different.
I have cut my work email down to just Monday afternoons--I have a little autoresponder up and this system is in fact totally working, it's a surprise. It was scary but now it is planet liberation over here. We are all so addicted to our email. It is ridiculous. It sort of snuck up on us. It coincided with the Bush administration: think about it. Life in 2000 vs. life as we know it.
The thing is now I have to bribe myself to even get it done on Mondays. I have always loved a little bribery, however; it is a skill I enjoy and have no problem with.