Day recklessly spent loafing, reading, buying xmas presents for nephews, and stuffing myself with incredible paella, dolmas, chipotle tomato soup, ginger wine, and some sort of persian candy at Brenda's house. After not eating since Tuesday it was HEAVEN. She is a sort of food poet. I must remember to introduce her to D. over some more poetry. My buddy Pastiche was in top form with his impassioned readings which I recorded... I forgot to record myself. There was another guy who seemed pretty nice but he did not read.
I had a brain wave while B. was talkkng aboutt her aunt's tea caddy, and explained to everyone that it must be called a caddy because of the chinese measure of weight (the catty or cattie). It was a glorious moment of deduction and I wished that Minnie had been there to howl in outrage and protest that I was making it up. Yes, I was making it up, but I was absolutely right.
Iris, remind me to record some CDs of us all reading poetry and I will mail them to you later this week.
I am now listening to Chavela Vargas singing "Macorina". On repeat. It makes my heart stop beating. Chavela! You can put your hand here! I don't mind if you are like 80, or even that for all I know, you are dead! Touch me baby yeah!
I feel like a new woman. Food! I sing its praises!
It's nice to be back, and perky, and full of womly vigor.
yes I said womly. Deal with it, all you wim (and menwim).
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