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Letter from Los Angeles
We saw Greenberg and Greg wanted to know why a 25-year-old would willingly subject herself to a 40-something misanthrope and all I could say was um; I need to treat my stomach better when I get back, better than tacos and milkshakes, I had this episode where I was swimming in dark beer and medication and deposited three pounds of puppy chow on the sidewalk, and then we took a picture of the vomit, I had never seen so much, it seemed like the Hollywood thing to do; I'm not sure about graduate school, I don't do well in institutions, I'm bootstraps and breadwinning and there are many names I haven't read, and every year that passes, it seems like there are more; when I crashed my bike I was filled with a liter of wine and my arm turned purple, then yellow, aurora borealis from wrist to shoulder, and I took pictures of scars because that, then, seemed like the Chicago thing to do; and I remind you that you have to be careful, you are irreplaceable, I saw you made your dad write in all caps, don't keep doing that. Last day here, can I bring you a souvenir?
2 comments:
you are very intriguing to me. write more.
You are very intriguing to me as well. Please SHUT THE HELL UP. I can hear you from my condo. Sheesh.
I love misanthropes...the single eyebrow and that gigantic orb looking out at the world wit...oh. That's a cyclops.
People that hate the WHOLE world are fun, but only for short bursts. I'm actually Misanthropoholic; it took 60 days in "recovery" and lots of Stuart Smally because I am okay.
Proud to day that I've been dislike, distrust, disgust, contempt, and hatred free for almost seven years. (I don't count the times I run into assholes, slow grocery clerks, or shit drivers with pickups packed full of other shit drivers stuff.
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