The morning after all of the cars on the street had their windshield wipers up like they were dancing. The neighbor told Esme and I that somebody left a "scary, manic" note taped to his door that said something about "paper people." And somebody put my fake loaf of bread in my empty bird cage.
Nice mornings.
I started watching "Be Good Johnny Weir" and the first hour and a half long episode is actually so inspiring. I can't explain it, he is so inspirational to me.
Last night I went to a Magnetic Fields concert with Esme and Mom. I had no idea what to expect. I've never liked them that much. When I do listen to them I'm reminded of eating blueberry scones on a humid breakfast porch. This wasn't like that. They all looked really sad. Mom was sleeping in the middle of us. Esme was in heaven because Stephen Merritt is her Jesus.
Speaking of Jesus, Esme just came up to me with a Jesus candle and said, "Do you want this candle? It's too masculine for me." She put it in my hand and said, "Feel it?" And then put a Virgin Mary candle in my other hand and said "DO YOU FEEL THE DIFFERENCE?" and I said, "Yeah I guess I'll take the man candle."
I'm not working right now and really feeling the burn of my lack of friends. There is no point in getting another job at this point though, because April will be nuts. Coachella and then Toronto right after and then Montreal and New York. I'm not sure what to do with myself for the next six weeks. I have a stack of 20 yellowy green square trays from the 50s in my trunk I want to do something with. Esme and I just found a giant renaissance puppeteer frame on the side of the road and carried it home. Maybe I can start making puppets. Fuck.
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