they pulled my hair at charm school.
they
stole my guestbook during
rolecall.
do: play first song on interpol's antics + September 19th = 9ish p.m. '04
+ It's almost ten. Hours of train travel make me sleepy & wound-up all at the same time. Am weeding out my old hotmail inbox. It sounds like someone on street level is yelling "Ben! Ben!" up at our windows. I peek through the blinds but all I see is a girl click-clicking by in her high-heels. She's clipped a big fat gardenia to the back of her ponytail and her boyfriend is all swanky looking in a tight tweed suit. It's chilly, but not nearly as cold as it was in Stratford yesterday. The alarm failed to ring at 6 a.m. Somehow Ben woke me up at 8. Threw a trench coat on over the black dress I had on the night before. Sneakers, wallet, present for my sister, umbrella: I'm on my way to catch a C train to Grand Central. Grand Central. All green-ivory. Ticket booths & gilt lettering. Horribly impressive. The whole space looks sleepy & serenely calm & efficient. Board a Metro-North train bound for a flooded town in CT. When I arrive, my sister is frantically trying to reach me in her silver car as the police shut down road after road. They fall in quick succession like a particularly successful game of Dominoes. I'm waiting at the end: shivering, lips nearly blue, clutching my phone to my ear as my sister panics on the other line. Keith directs her through an obstacle course of back roads and we reunite in front of The Lilac Tea Room. Very successful weekend. Meet my sister's bridesmaids & best friends. After huge glasses of Shiraz and shots of something awful that N. picked out at the tiny package store up the street, I have a lot of fun revealing hilarious/horrifying facts about my sister. Secretly, I know she loves it that they will refer to her as Queen Bee from this day forward. * Am tired. Keep dreaming about dogs at night. New pets and I am so sad in the morning that the little dog bowl I thought I set down on the tiny black & white kitchen tiles isn't really there. Haven't seen the beau all weekend. This weather makes me all introspective and heartsick. we're not goin' to the town/we're goin' to the city
p.s. did you go to your 10yr highschool class reunion? was it good for you? email me: sparks@junkmedia.org
prev/next
class
notes, file of pom-pom
ghosts!
