Things I am reminded of when I smell the winter smell

October 9, 2010 § Leave a comment

Going to Marie Antoinette, with my bi-sexual friend, whom I referrred that way in that particular motion because it was ironic, because I was making a point, because it was often misunderstood. I was wearing a long cashmere stripey t-shirt and cashmere tights. It was so cold in Worcester that my overly puffy ankle length coat wasn’t helping. It was a glorious movie. I was struck. It was magic. And I couldn’t get over it for days.

February. A sunny day in Worcester. Me and my friends wear strange outfits after smoking our Saturday grass, after a heavy night of who-fucking-remembers, and we get into a white van, smiling, listening to the Beatles, and arriving into the theater when the gorgeous Australian Joe Anderson was singing his throat off as he was sliding down the stairs at.. Harvard? It was anothe rmagical film that kept me captive hours as hour after I was still singing into the microphone at a (poorly) decorated nargile house my close (and crazy friend) operated.

The first day of snow when it fell upon Boston, and I was cold and lonely, it was a particularly sad memory that will remain in my head forever. I got myhair cut and dyed because I couldn’t take rejection. So I rejected my then-current hair. You know how it happens that way.

 

 

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