I’ve become a bistro bitch. Dress punk and go for one cream coffee. First thing.
All of a sudden, I have this job. I have A Job. This writing job. It doesn’t make much sense, the job itself. Not my having it. Woman named May is throwing all this information at me. & apparently, I don’t understand much of it. Hoping there will be a change there. A change full swing into understanding. Pays well, and I get to write and read for money. For Money.
I have to read some or all of the following:
Gullivers Travels
King Arthur
Huckleberry Finn
Murder on Orient Express
Dr Jekyll & Mr. Hyde
Chasing Windmills/Don Quixote
Roots
The Time Machine
Isn’t that fantastic?? It’s so cute I could die.
As for my reading last night. Well: any takers? What did I actually say. I was drunk like you. A couple of beers and a mickey of Beefeater, which happened to be a dollar off at the liquor store by my house. Scott and I shared a cab home. Unfortunately, we had the only Raping Cabby in Victoria. He looked like the lead singer from the Tragically Hip. Dressed like him, too. And he almost wept when I passed this information onto him. He wouldn’t let me leave the cab!
“I have to go. I really have to pee. I have to go,” I said.
“No, don’t go!”
What now? I seem to remember running upstairs at some point while the cabby was still parked in my driveway. I ran upstairs to google the song that Bowie did with Queen. !
I had to check; it was bothering us so much not to know.
Posted by caroline at March 10, 2005 9:17 AM