The last seven days have been such a Christmas. So many gifts. My stocking is so stuffed. Delight myself? Not Auntie Mame. Teej had two gigs, a storytelling deal in Echo Park Park Parkβ¦and something kinda Harlem Renaissaucy that was to happen in Long Beach during the witching hour.
TJ rode Miss Daisy, Nagem rode shotgun, and as I drove us up northbound freeways, I kept a pink eye out for jaywalkers. A Range Rover had Twizlered him, his face looked to relaxed to be alive, and a firefighter presided over his body with a clean-up-on-aisle-seven expression. She abides by an extremely Midwestern value system and along with the belief that green bean casserole is a vegetable, she honors punctuality.
We froggered across Alvarado to get to the joint and commented on how rock star it was that the venue was sardine city, packed to the crannies. I am Merci Beaucoup! She comes from a people who experience them. The host of our English storytelling series, Tatyana, a deer- crossed with gelfling-like woman welcomed all less-than-ten of us. Tatyana happens to share a name with my favorite Colombian poet and slain Russian princess.
She warmed up the room with a story about being coveted by five men in the snow. This was her first time at Sundance. First times. Virginal losses. Like you thought that tampon took your virginity but then found out oh, I still need a wrecking ball. He told about his first, and hopefully last time, finding a decapitated person on a local freeway.
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Heading into the slow lane. Tomboy carny? I need a cold shower. TJ was followed by Canuck Cat Black. After Canada came Alex Hooper.
