I had a nice little party up at the house last night for my darling Wendy and Wesley Stace, who is also darling, but not mine. Wes read some poetry and an essay and Wendy read my favorite chapter from The Wilder Life and then Wes put on his John Wesley Harding hat and sang us some brand new songs which were amazing and then all the creative people in the house sucked every last bit of alcohol from the bottles before them. The only thing remaining this morning is a half bottle of Hendrick’s Gin, delivered graciously to me by my editor Helen. I never drink gin because it makes me into a total bitch, but I admit I did sample some and it was delicious. (I shall not comment on the results.)
Today I have wet brain and the floor of my apartment is filthy and I need to rearrange my furniture and I can’t find anything. You know what I’m talking about. People were in your house, shit got moved around, and it’s the next day and where’s your cellphone/house keys/toothbrush? Where’s my shit, you guys? Where’s my shit.
Wendy’s here till Wednesday, and tomorrow night I’m interviewing her at WORD at 7:30 PM, so please come. Then I’m going to New Hampshire and I’m never coming back. No, I’m coming back, although I have been alerted to the fact that it will be the End of Days while I am there. Honestly I think it really only applies to big cities so I should be fine in the woods. But if we get never see each other again, remember that I always loved you.
