-Lovell's back, love of my afterlife, little bit of darkness in my soul. How I have missed you. Me, you, after work phone calls to meet up on Dickson. Me in my fluffy alpaca hat. You in ink splatter and greased hair. I was so glad Husband liked you bc you made my life incredibly bright! Sitting at the hard wood bar, gossiping like old women. You picking ladies out. Me picking ladies out. Masons. Pirates. Asphalt. Boys who would be men. Kids who would be kings. I have missed you so my man. Glad you're back in pocket.
-It's been killing me not to Christmas shop so far this year. But I understand what an economic, ahem, downturn, will do to you.
-I don't want Piper to move. I'm glad Ambler's home.
-Tom Petty. Lots of Tom Petty. Golden Smog. Loose Fur (Jucifer?). Wilco's AM. dancing dancing dancing in my mind. One of these days I'll head back west, Husband in tow this time, and we'll dance in the big New Mexican desert like all those times before. Count the Pleiades. Call the Shekina in. Top down. Arms open. Area 51. Just the two of us.
-Did anyone see the Winter Solstice the other night? God's fingernail sliver moon with Jupiter twinkling (bc it's gaseous, see) and Venus above. A perfect triangle. My dad called us, told us to head outside. Me and Husband and the Universe seemingly so close one could reach out and grab it. I felt like touching it. If only I could reach a little further. But good conscience tells me not too. That all things out of reach are put there for good measure. Turn the handles on the pots on the stove. Good childrens' fingers reach fast and mightily.
-Tim Gunn's Guide to Style is quickly rubbing off on Hubs. Damn is he fine lately.
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You were so brutally cast as the malcontent.
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