Montgomery, Alabama:Today my five year old friend Gwendolyn hugged me, looked up at her father, and said "they're not coming back soon". And for whatever reason, in that messy hallway, I teared up like a pregnant woman to Kodak commercials.
We bought a gun from Wal-Mart. A plastic shotgun, bandages, and a can of black spray paint. Watch out bitches.
Seeing Eamon happy makes me hopeful. Everything here is the opposite of the way it used to be the last time we were all together.
That whole southern hospitality thing....they weren't kidding. Dru and I have already been referred to as "rude". It's making me feel the overwhelming urge to drive straight up North, where it's safe.
Ha. We have 3 bands in the mental works. Our Regina Spektor cover band, Apple Paltrow. Our street band which basically consists of us singing "Hey" by the Pixies, Electric Bird Whistle. And the band that Dru wants us to take seriously (apparently I can sing. Flattered is an understatement) which is tentatively Aesthetic Cigarette Harmony.
I keep meeting amazing people. And for the first time in 2 years, my hands aren't shaking. I'm sitting outside a Starschmucks, it's chilly and windy and beautiful, cigarettes are plenty, and I'm actually alive.
No comments:
Post a Comment