I haven't been keeping up with this because I write everything now and I'm with you anyway so you know about New York and Caberet and the Titanic. but...

one of my favorite things about the summer is being able to catch up on my reading. Cosmopolitan and the lipstick novels with their shiny abstract covers. 14 day books and McCaffrey's latest.

Cherries in the Snow...
"Dutch courage.
I thought being a woman was knowing how to make love and breakfast.
Between credit cards and scowls.
The ghost of my disasterous love affair.
Photo-shop purgatory.
British shame versus the American need to be liked.
Cry over an artist. cry over a playwrite. please don't cry over a journalist.
You say deli, I say bodega. oh, it would never work out between us.
If I could turn him into numbers and math and science, maybe I won't be so attracted to him. the un-science of lust.
A $22 eyeliner does not make sense to a man who buys soy milk.
I who have played Lolita so long.
"We'll figure it out"- he zips up his raincoat, punctuation at the end of his promise.
Don't put two and two together and get insecurity.
That's what you wish? that's what you waste your wishes on?
I thought long and hard about it, but I couldn't bring myself to slit my wrists, so I drew red lines on them with a felt-tip pen instead.
He pulls me to him and I let him, but as he holds me I lean into his chest and think about my father dying one day, and my mother too, me all alone with my lipsticks.
Goddammit. why has no one kissed me like this before. Twenty-four years old and everyone has been joking with me all these years? what a rip-off. I want my money back. I want to go to each of their houses and stand outside until they give me my kisses back. I'll melt them down, sanitize them, and regenerate them in the shape of this: the real thing. "


between books I've been at work and rehearsal and playing solitare, editing photos. did you get them Caity? I never really liked email. I still have letters in stamped envelopes, Lisa Frank stationary and crayola banners. I don't save emails like that.

In the rush for this week I forgot myself and wished too hard. Phone calls help, but the conversations in my bluebook don't make up for the real thing.
2 years. 21 days. It only takes fifteen, but some people wait a lifetime.

ash @ 10:25 PM