It’s become so cold in my room that per Michael’s suggestion I’ve stuffed every window in my room with T-shirts. Crumpled cotton is jammed into the airspaces. It’s poor man’s insulation, but since the home improvements, I no longer wake up with a dry, cracked throat. Instead I wake up to the smell of Italy as I head down our poorly lit, woody Victorian hallway. I can’t jump high, I have a despicable sense of balance (somewhat improved by a few yoga techniques acquired in Chava V’Adam), the optometrist says I’m something like 20/2800 – but I smell everything.
Aside from the obvious, my olfactory senses are quite consistent in providing the surreal experience. I’m talking about that moment when you detect a scent of something from your past, and how without thinking your mind is recklessly flooded with memories of flowers in another country, the perfume you wore on that first good kiss, your grandmother’s house. It catches me off guard, and that’s what makes it magic.
With the weather turning, reading is the sport of choice. I went through Dave Eggers AHWOSG, and now burning through Drugs, Sex, and Cocoa Puffs. It reads like long magazine features sewed together to form a novel firmly based on pop culture. So far, the author has discussed Pamela Anderson sex tape, the Boston Celtics rivalry, and why he fucking hates soccer. It’s good, and I realize how atrotcious my writing becomes once I stop reading how other people write. Writing is reading. And reading, for me, generally leads to writing.
In other news, I’ve found myself getting annoyed with…MYSELF. I’m compiling a list of words I use that I’m determined to eliminate from my vernacular, written and oral. I’m still working on the method of punishment for committing a violation, and I think it all comes down to my brother Edahn or Ashley Crandall punching me in the neck area.
The list: (Feel free to add your your own)
- for sure
- I just / It’s just that
Words I want to start using more:
- I couldn’t do it without you
- You’ve got it made
I’ll keep you all updated as to my developments. With any luck, I’ll be the next guy to slap jack that brisket, wicked style.
I have no idea what the hell that means. But feel free to use it.