No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction at anytime.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
a blessed unrest keeps us marching and makes us more alive than others.
-- Martha Graham to Agnes De Mille
Was || Will Be || Past Moments || Now || Notes

2002-01-22 - 12:21 a.m.

Using MLK Day to be really, really lazy.

Yeah, well here I am again. I remember when I found time to update every day, come Hell or high water. Now, I have a hard time finding the time to update. I'm not happy about that.

In other news, I am happy in general.

(I wonder if that's part of the reason I'm not updating as much. I seem to work out angst and issues in writing. I've always journaled less when I'm happy. E. M. Cioran once said "You cannot undermine your reasons for writing without also undermining your reasons for living" (or words to that effect). My personal corollary is that I cannot bolster my reasons for living (or at least enjoying life) without also undermining my motivation for writing. Weird, no?)

Today there were many plans and things to accomplish. Not a one got done.

RockGirl and I stayed in bed until 1 pm.

(I can't even describe the decadence of that.)

Then we drove down to LoDo, and had lunch at the Celtic Tavern. We walked around LoDo, and I played tour guide, pointing out all the cool night spots (she promised to wear a really small dress if I took her to the Cruise Room sometime), and telling stories of drunken nights of debauching at same. I managed to walk right by the really cool russian art gallery that I really wanted her to see.

We then drove over to the art museum, parked, pumped two dollars worth of quarters into a meter, only to have a kindly stranger say "You didn't have to do that. It's a holiday." Also, the art museum was closed because of said holiday.

So we went back to my place and made the bed. (Really. Honest. We just made the bed.) Then I had to go to rehearsal.

I could talk about what else happened this weekend, but really, it's late and I need to get some sleep. I have that job interview tomorrow, and I need to be rested.

I promise you, dear D-Land, that I'll make more time for you. I miss you.

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