Just how humid is it???
- it’s so humid that when I get out of the shower, I don’t bother drying off with a towel
- it’s so humid the fish in the tank are swimming freely throughout the living room
- it’s so humid that paper wilts immediately upon leaving an air-conditioned building
- it’s so humid the weather people don’t even bother telling you anymore; on the über-doppler map under humidity it says “what the fuck do you THINK it is? It’s Virginia Beach in the summer.”
right. Very productive day today, spent all of it until about 6 pm in my pajamas. I love those kinds of days. I got all my pictures from Spain sorted or in albums finally, and the enlargements look great. I’m rather proud of a few of them. Also realized the ambiguity of my effervescing about D. Eggers, novelist extraordinaire, whose book I am currently reading. I laughed aloud today, alone in the kitchen during breakfast:
We are young and naked and on the beach! [preparing for photo shoot] It will be beautiful and poetic and it hurts like a motherfucker. Our penises flop up and down, and then we pick up speed, slap left to right, back and forth–who would have thought left to right? The pain! People should not do this. Penises were not meant for running. I think of a distended muffler scraping the pavement; I think of a bird shaking the life out of a worm–the agony is ridiculous…I can’t imagine what it’s like for the pierced-penis guy. It’s definitely not helping to keep it in place. If he had some sort of hookup, like to his navel–
HA. HA. Ha. That’s my diversion for the day.
The road trip to NYC, New Haven, and Philly is still on for tomorrow morning, estimated time of departure, 7:00 am. Things packed: 0 (that’s zero), people who know I’m actually coming: indefinite, possibly 2. Hoping for 4. Guess I should get cracking on that.