Friday, January 6, 2017


The apron (above) is done. As said before: You have to read the story to fully appreciate it: It’s made as a compromise by a man who has a secret desire to wear women’s clothes.
No heat. The building boiler was down overnight and this morning—during one of the coldest winters we’ve had in a decade. Lucky for me, my decorative fireplace has a heating function and it is keeping me warm.
My property tax assessment has arrived. Last year my place was assessed as being worth $349,000; this year the assessment is for $462,000, an increase of 32%. I am going to defer my taxes this year for the first time.
I have to stop calling Mr. Inappropriate by that name. Yes he is challenging and distant when he has a girlfriend but when we talk it is like I’ve taken a drug. He is constant, honest and affectionate; he doesn’t deserve the name I gave him long ago when I couldn’t control my response to him. But now I can, so he is now Dr. Soothe.
I’m still deriving comfort the speech therapist’s frequent response to things I told her: “Yes, it’s often that way with stutterers.” What she said made me feel less alone and less unusual; her words were like a caress.

Writing the script is not nearly as much fun or as satisfying as listening to a good movie and sewing my brains out in idyllic symbiosis with Leon.  But I have to write one to see if I can produce a monologue of merit that lasts about 75 minutes. So Friday morning I got a toe damp and I liked it. I think I can do it. It’ll be short and I’ll use sections of the letters and curatorial BS I’ve written about several dresses, but it might work.

No comments: