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Jun. 5th, 2006 09:53 amRenegade Craft Fair in my old 'hood. Damn, I wish I could go. Hmmmm, could I? Probably not, there is much packing to be done...still, *sigh*
Jun. 5th, 2006
wonderful things to look forward to
Jun. 5th, 2006 04:31 pmin order of their presumed manifestation
1. Donna Martin's Boyfriend blowing into town for a couple of days very soon. I have not seen him in far, far too long...since December 2004, when, en route to South America, I left a bag of random jetsam at his house in San Francisco and hid candy all over his room, under his bed, behind his books, and in his pencil jar. I hope he has found and eaten all of them by now!
2. Moving to our new sunny big sunny apartment, making a garden on the balcony, thinking up ways to decorate my study.
3. Victoriana in the Catskills, wigs and corsets at noon, electric blue drinks. Perhaps a piercing place has sprung up since last year, and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
amadea can acquire an extra hole somewhere on her lovely self...
4. Swimming in the ocean. I hope my first ocean swim of the summer happens before July, but if it doesn't, I couldn't think of a better place than the jagged Maine shoreline to submerge myself and get ocean-water-clean and exfoliate that last layer of winter dead cells in the sand and take dreamy photos of kayaks like krayons.
5. Prague Prague Prague, hanging out with my dad in a place where he is completely unharried, but that rather suits him well. He is so wonderful and strange and odd, and whatever his magic is fits will with the Kafka-and-streetlights magic of Prague. I want to find the hostel I stayed in when I was nineteen, and where I tried absinthe for the first time, and made friends with a girl who looked like Juliette Binoche. She and I heard about a place to go ride horses somewhere "in the country" and one morning we ventured, on a train, in search of this place, with only the vaguest directions. In the end we found a town with a graveyard of rusty cars and trains, a grim teenager on a children's tricycle, who followed us down the dirt road that was "main street," and a place where they plied us with vodka and let us ride horses...at night we waited for the train back to Prague. We didn't know what time the train would be coming, or if it would be coming at all, and we waited for about six hours in a train station in the middle of the field, a tiny wooden shack with no one but us in it or around it. It was lit up by a dim yellow lightbulb, and it had wallpaper! Typical Soviet-seventies wallpaper, peeling and with grease stains. Except for the electricity, the decor was quite like the places I am so fond of exploring today. We waited and sang songs and scared ourselves into thinking that we heard wolves in the field. I completely forgot about this train station until I just started writing about it now!
6. Burning Man? Odds are 1/4?
1. Donna Martin's Boyfriend blowing into town for a couple of days very soon. I have not seen him in far, far too long...since December 2004, when, en route to South America, I left a bag of random jetsam at his house in San Francisco and hid candy all over his room, under his bed, behind his books, and in his pencil jar. I hope he has found and eaten all of them by now!
2. Moving to our new sunny big sunny apartment, making a garden on the balcony, thinking up ways to decorate my study.
3. Victoriana in the Catskills, wigs and corsets at noon, electric blue drinks. Perhaps a piercing place has sprung up since last year, and
amadea can acquire an extra hole somewhere on her lovely self...4. Swimming in the ocean. I hope my first ocean swim of the summer happens before July, but if it doesn't, I couldn't think of a better place than the jagged Maine shoreline to submerge myself and get ocean-water-clean and exfoliate that last layer of winter dead cells in the sand and take dreamy photos of kayaks like krayons.
5. Prague Prague Prague, hanging out with my dad in a place where he is completely unharried, but that rather suits him well. He is so wonderful and strange and odd, and whatever his magic is fits will with the Kafka-and-streetlights magic of Prague. I want to find the hostel I stayed in when I was nineteen, and where I tried absinthe for the first time, and made friends with a girl who looked like Juliette Binoche. She and I heard about a place to go ride horses somewhere "in the country" and one morning we ventured, on a train, in search of this place, with only the vaguest directions. In the end we found a town with a graveyard of rusty cars and trains, a grim teenager on a children's tricycle, who followed us down the dirt road that was "main street," and a place where they plied us with vodka and let us ride horses...at night we waited for the train back to Prague. We didn't know what time the train would be coming, or if it would be coming at all, and we waited for about six hours in a train station in the middle of the field, a tiny wooden shack with no one but us in it or around it. It was lit up by a dim yellow lightbulb, and it had wallpaper! Typical Soviet-seventies wallpaper, peeling and with grease stains. Except for the electricity, the decor was quite like the places I am so fond of exploring today. We waited and sang songs and scared ourselves into thinking that we heard wolves in the field. I completely forgot about this train station until I just started writing about it now!
6. Burning Man? Odds are 1/4?