THINGS I DONE SINCE YOU BEEN GONE
Saw the Rolling Stones. Second time. Began taking piano lessons again, this time with strict and serious discipline. Went to Venezuela, albeit only to a resort on the Isla Margarita. Drank many many bottles of good red wine. Started exercising. Turned 41. Saw my brother’s unbearably cool new loft in Montreal. Painted the bathroom dark brown and Thai buddhist orange. Planned an upcoming trip back to Thailand, including booking a room at the legendary Atlanta Hotel, which I believe to be one of the vibrating dwell points that form some sort of portal between earth one and earth two. Smited mine enemies. Or is it smote? I smote them? Kissed babies. Met beautiful new people and had dinner with them. Renounced my luddite beliefs and purchased a cellular telephone. Call me! Bought an adorable pair of plaid shorts. Switched underwear styles from the former boxers in a wide variety of colors and cute patterns to the currently vogue skin-tight low rise lycra briefs that make my package look delightfully humongous. Bought the fucking 25th anniversary edition CD of My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, bringing up to four the number of times I have bought the same album; once on vinyl, once on cassette, twice on CD. I feel that Brian Eno and David Byrne owe me both an apology and some money, but I am not holding my breath. Ate a lot of squid, at home and in restaurants. Befriended a neighborhood cat. Joined and then resigned from the community urban zoning committee.
I think there’s more, but that’s what mostly comes to mind at the moment.
