Still this weather? I've been away on a trip upstate with my friend N., from my previous life... the trip was refreshing and stressful and pleasant and a little sobering, as we spent most of the hundreds of miles of driving on subjects like prospects seeming bleak, no one being trustworthy, the future appearing when visualized as a sort of black glacier overcoming the horizon, and the iniquities of the prison-industrial complex. ("Republican strategists love the war on the drugs because it makes blacks and Hispanics into felons, so they can't vote!" etc.) Cheerful times. I read Just Kids, by Patti Smith, which is pretty lovely. Sometime in the last week something happened with that Lolita post I wrote on the Paris Review blog a while back, because a bunch of comments all of a sudden appeared (they get automatically emailed to the post's author). In the hotel we watched a movie so utterly false and contrived with regard to the way human beings behave that it seemed obscene. I believe it was made by sociopathic aliens who have never encountered a human being. The lead actor is profoundly off-putting in both appearance and performance, and every decision made by the filmmakers, from the casting to the catering, is disastrously wrongheaded. Then we watched several episodes of Entourage, which I hadn't seen in years, but which seemed pretty good. Just those two episodes guest starred, off the top of my head, Eminem, Sasha Grey, John Cleese, Malcolm McDowell, Christina Aguilera, Minka Kelly, Mark Cuban, Queen Latifah, Carla Gugino, Peter Berg, and I think some others. And then I had this dream that my family moved into a new house in a neighborhood sort of like the one I actually grew up in, and these tricky old men tried to sell us a cat that they'd caught in the neighborhood, but when they went away and we looked more closely at the cat, we realized it was some kind of dog.
Anyway, I'm back.