Earlier this week, I bought tickets to the Guster concert in Central Park this summer. So, now I’m listening to the new Guster album and enjoying it. I’m looking forward to singing loudly in the park. Also, my PA s had not heard of Guster. I had no idea that being a Guster fan meant one was old. Uncool, probably yes. But old, that’s new.
I haven’t blogged since Monday because, well, I’ve been bummed out. The death of Robin Williams bummed me out. Lauren Bacall’s death bummed me out. This situation in Ferguson is angst-ing me out. And now I’m pretty sure one of my contacts is stuck in my eyelid and I don’t know how to get it out.
So, last night I came home from work and started reading Franny and Zooey and drinking water. Because really, all I can do is hydrate and read some Salinger.
And it is cold again. I’m not that upset about the cold–everything is frozen again. Which means the slush puddles are gone. I had a lovely little weekend (and I didn’t photograph anything). I hung out in Brooklyn–and saw Maggie Gyllenhaal and Peter Sarsgaard at a coffee place in Park Slope. And then I hung out on the UWS. I must say, I’m more than a bit bummed that the weekend is over.
Whenever I get back from an extended vacation, I always spend the next week or so thinking “Last [fill in the blank day] I was…” It always makes me a little sad. Well, last Thursday, I was running errands, going to the grocery store, making paper flowers, picking up the one relative who made it to St. Louis at their regularly scheduled time, and other fun things.
Hello? I Forgot My Mantra. 