Stritch was the kind of performer who one hopes will live forever, because she gave the impression that she just might.
LeeAnne and I went and saw Belle and it was everything that I wanted in a movie today. Dresses, drama, and based on a true story. Go see it.
Outside the fireworks exploded and I thought for the millionth time how holidays are always disappointing, even when they’re just about hot dogs and jello shots. It’s the expectation of that big bright fullness that makes me want to take a nap or pick a fight with someone. I always cry on birthdays. I’ve hid in the bedroom on Christmas. It’s possible I’m just not good with structured celebration, or the accepted calendar for joy.
I love fireworks. So after carefully examining my sleeping schedule and deciding that I’d rather be tired than unhappy, Chris and I drove downtown right before the fireworks started. I didn’t really plan it I just drove. The most magical thing happened, I found a spot right beside the river only a few hundred feet from the bridge. We stood, shoulder to shoulder leaning against my beat up red car with our faces lifted upward. After watching the finally we quickly jumped back into my car and we were back in less than 15 minutes. I cant get over the spot we found, or how well traffic went afterward.
Today I talked t o 4 people who are currently trying to sit in a car for two weeks in order to in a truck. I fumbled over my microphone when it stopped working and enlisted a local radio personality to help me fix it. We gave up and I found up that my other mic still works. (Backups!) I also went to the park and filmed toddlers splashing in the fountain, water bubbling over stairs.
Today I received my media badge and I’m super happy with my new piece of laminated paper. I’m not sure what to do with it yet, other than hold it and feel official.
The results are in. One 3-12 shift and several sweaty trips in and out of the station later and I’m ready to declare my love for silicone based primer. Seriously, best decision.
It’s day 1 of me integrating primer into my makeup routine. I’m attempting to battle Tennessee’s legendary humidity. It’s 4AM and humidity is at 96%. I just want to look like I didn’t run a mile at the end if the work day.
Every couple of months I set down and try my best to convince myself to write a book. I just don’t know what to write about. I keep thinking about plots and characters that have personality. Characters that make sense, who do what they would do rather than what they should do in any given situation.
And every couple of months I close my laptop after sipping my drink and give up.