i went to the library to check out patty hearst’s autobiography (click on the link if you don’t know who she is–it’s a pretty interesting story.) i couldn’t find the book myself so i had to get a librarian to help me. “patty hearst, where is she now? well, wherever she is, she’s probably got a lot of money…”
biking home, i heard beautiful accordion music. some guy was playing, barefoot on the grass–no hat out full of coins, just playing because he wanted to play music in the sun, wanted to share it with all of us. i sat down to listen. i cracked open the patty book and saw that it had been checked out the day i was born:
it made me feel connected. i’ve been having lots of moments of synchronicity lately, it makes me feel good! so, i read, the guy continued playing. a dude in a convertible stopped, yelled, “my uncle used to play the accordion!” sounding excited and proud.
i saw kate bornstein read tonight, she said to write every day and so that’s what i did. forewent watching “wayne’s world” with my housemate for baking cookies and cracking 32,000 words on my book. but before that, at the reading, i was standing in line and this middle-aged butch who i’d spoken to earlier that evening said, “didja see the title of this book?” the title was why do women crave sex more in the summer? the way she said it, it sounded like she was hitting on me, which was sweet and annoying all at once. “weird,” i said, curtly. i’m a new yorker, good at shutting people down. what i should have said was, “this doesn’t feel like summer to me, and i’ve quit romance anyway.” no, actually, i shouldn’t have said that at all. but probably, something.