Grey Gardens, Pistol-style
Didja ever have a whole week where you couldn’t latch on to anything?
Case in point: I wrote that sentence like an hour ago. And I haven’t really done anything in the last hour except put my hair up, and rebutton the top two buttons of my nightgown. That, and a little bit of pacing.
So yeah, I am totally wearing a nightgown. That’s how entirely creepy I am! First of all, I have a nightgown. And second of all, I’m wearing it at 8:30 on a Friday evening.
Also, all my shoes are inexplicably strewn about the apartment. I have not started dinner, despite having IMed Mr. Pistol a detailed description of what I am allegedly cooking. We are supposed to hang out with Mr. Shaky and company later, but it is really hard to imagine getting back into my street clothes. Blargh.
Every day this week I’ve had at least one moment where I come to, and I’m like, HEY! JEEZ!
It’s like drinker’s remorse, but without the drinking: Fuck, how long have I been walking and talking and doing whatever else, without even realizing it?
My whole life, possibly?
One Response to “Grey Gardens, Pistol-style”
1 Man Eater 12 May 2007 @ 10:59 pm
Prior to reading this post via my precious sidekick I replied to an invitation for “drinks + more” with this text:
‘Currently doing a foot paraffin mask, wearing no bra with fleece pants covered in doggy hair. Life is wonderful.’
Does anyone know what drinks + more means exactly? And when did I start wearing fleece, and when did I start doing paraffin foot masks, and when did I decide to spend my Saturday nights texting and reading blogs on my telephone?!
AND I’m at my mothers house. JESUS!
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