I know I promised a full report on the annual Spirit of Elvis Festival in Garden Grove. Well, I didn’t write it. Yet.
I also didn’t go to Anaheim for the awkward “I’m not gonna buy a timeshare from you” tour of a hotel. Whoops.
I also didn’t exercise as often last week as I told myself I should.
I also didn’t clean the apartment because didn’t I just do that?
Oh, and I didn’t do my laundry. There’s always so much laundry.
But.
I did hear from a client who’s been quiet since these fucking (but necessary) strikes.
I did buy a ticket to see Priscilla this Friday (omgomg).
I did schedule an appointment for a haircut because I will not see Priscilla with split ends.
I did convince some neighbors to fact check what they hear on MSNBC.
I did figure out that the disgusting smell in my kitchen wasn’t coming from an old sponge but from a bag of rotting potatoes.
I did finally see — and meet the delightful children of — a friend I haven’t seen since 2019.
And I did start writing something else you’ll get to read very soon.
This week? Maybe. That’s the goal.
Soon.
I’ll also be dusting off my microphone because yes, my voice is only rivaled by the great Richard Burton.
Also, I’m thinking of everyone I know and have ever known…as well as those I’ll never know. I’m thinking of how much fun I had in seventh grade when I went to Bar and Bat Mitzvahs for 13 consecutive weekends and memorized the blessing for putting on a tallit. I’m thinking of our former president reacting to a U.S. based white supremacist rally with a Filet-o-Fish scented fart. I’m also thinking of Halloween 2001 when the air was thick with paranoia and news outlets warned me about anthrax in my Buncha Crunch. I’m thinking of the absurd rumors that all the malls would be blown up next. I’m thinking of the stories from grown-ups that sounded like, “I saw a man wearing a turban at Costco. What was he doing at COSTCO?” I’m thinking of equating patriotism with being super horny for war.
I won’t tolerate that shit because I’ve seen it all before, and I recognize that shit for what it is: hate. My bones are tired of hate. My teeth, my jaw, my shoulder muscles and eyes are tired of hate.
Anyway. More soon. And it’ll be above love.
Here’s a picture of earrings I didn’t buy.
I too didn't workout 😂
I too am tired for Hate.
Thank you for sharing.
Great sleuthing on the on the potato stank. Also, IMO, posting a pic of the Elvis earrings is just as valid and purchasing them, if not better, since you probably would never have worn them!