Sep. 17th, 2016

brandywine28: (squid)
I am all about The Get Down right now. True, I wasn't around for the seventies, and it's (slowly) edging into autumn, but it's giving me all of the gritty, outer borough, summertime-in-the-city feels. Love.

What's the best way to make it seem like you have news when you really, really don't? Bullet points!!

- I woke up clammy and disgruntled. I know it's still technically summer for another week, but part of me cannot believe it didn't immediately turn all nice and crisp at 12:01 am on September 1st.
- Every year that fails to happen and every year it surprises me.
- I had some errands downtown yesterday, which took me past the WTC site. Walking down that street always puts me in a foul mood. I didn't like it when it was a smoking crater in the ground and I don't like it any better as a tourist trap.
- They're turning my neighborhood Barnes & Noble into a Target and I want to die.
- I got a letter from the V.A. telling me there's another vet out there somewhere -- still living -- with the exact same name as my dad and it's complicating my mother's widows' benefits. So that's...great. Just great. They even sent me copies of the guy's application forms, which -- ????
- I mean, that's gotta be a major fuck-up on their part, no? I now have this man's social security number! I could totally steal his identity...if I were the identity-stealing type.
- My not-father is apparently eight years older than my actual father, has brown eyes instead of blue, and was born in Rhode Island, but other than that I'm gonna go ahead and assume he's a direct carbon copy.
-I shall also assume that if I were to randomly show up on his doorstep with a case of Budweiser and a cassette tape of Clapton's greatest hits, he'd be down to chill for twelve to sixteen hours. Possibly in lounge chairs next to a beautiful lake. And there'd be head pats and validation and stuff. *fantasizes*
- The word 'squee' is being added to Oxford's, and I approve.
- A couple of nights ago I dreamt I was playing Anita in a low budget production of West Side Story and I guess my acting was so bad that there were angry picketers outside the theater screaming that I ought to be shot? I woke up feeling pretty insulted.
- Three days later, I'm still kind of insulted.


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