As the melodic strains of the
world’s smallest violin begin to play, I cry into the void, “To much fun!”
Over the last month,
I’ve gotten together with at least 10 different social groups. I go out
at least four times a week. Gone to afternoon parties, then gone to evening
parties. Danced one evening, wine tasted the next day. When I’m not talking,
dancing, shining my party light, I’m pushing my various little projects
forward. Must maintain forward momentum don’t ya know.
It’s a hard life having fun.
I mean it’s fun, “Life Am Good” and all that, but I can’t help but feel
like Superman obsessed with saving the world, with no time to sit in the
Fortress of Solitude reading comics. Except of course, he’s saving lives
and I’m discussing how the Dante/Inferno reference in one of the penultimate
Angel episodes was one of the most perfect literary parallels that I’ve
ever seen on a television series betwixt singing along to the Buffy Musical.
Then again I exist and he’s a fictional character over twice my age with
a spandex fixation, so whatever.
And so, with no further ado,
I list the events of the last month:
• July 2, Neil Gaiman Reading
in Berekely, which I actually reviewed
• July 4, Parade, Picnic,
Fireworks, Men in Black and Kevin’s Birthday
• July 5, Friday Night Waltz
• July 6, Dinner with George
• July 7, Wine tasting and
Oalalliberry picking in Santa Cruz
• July ?, scattered in here
are some lunches with Gina.
• July ?, ? I know I'm forgetting
something, I just forgot to write it down
• July 12, Dracula Movie
• July 13, Dieter’s Annual
• July 14, Wine Tasting
with Gina and Co.
• July 19, Friday Night
Waltz East Bay
• July 20, Mia’s B-Day Party
and Kevin’s Going Away party
• July 21, Picnic with Christy
• July 22, Dinner with Melinda
• July 23, Dinner with Mom
• July 24-30, Hawaii for
Karen’s father’s retirement from the Coast Guard shindig.
• July 31, move furniture
What can I say, Life am Good.
Life am exhausting. Next month, I’ve got to do some housework. I can’t
find my floor. Fun it seems is also messy.
Reading in Berkeley
I salivate over words. I
swoon over context and juxtaposition just so. And a well told story,
the rise and fall and pause of voice, clarifies the air into a simple sweetness.
So, there was much rejoicing
when Neil Gaiman came to town.
For the release of his new
novel, Coraline, he was going to be reading the whole darn thing.
It was a Tuesday, I had work
in the morning. I didn’t care.
Gaiman is one of those authors
that when he reads his work aloud, you see the people, hear the voices,
the world of which he speaks is alive and rich with color.
Last year he came to Cody’s
to read a chapter from last year’s novel, American Gods. Pfttt. A mere
chapter. Having experienced a novel, I don’t know how I can go back. Rather
than cram us all into Cody’s (it was pretty jammed last year), this year
they sold tickets and held the reading at a local church in Berkeley.
I sat and sewed (I had a
patriotic skirt to finish for the 4th of July) and listened. Drifted from
7:00 to 11:00, when someone made the suggestion, “Read it again.” Gaiman
quite rightly said no, but it was worth a try.