Threnody

Just got back from St. Patrick's Manor where Cheyenne, my 5th grader (and the rest of the 5th grade orchestra) played the violin for a room full of the elderly. I want to say something poignant about the justaposition of pediatric against geriatric or the spirit of the season or the warm glow on the papery skin of those all but lost to this reality but you know, it just isn't coming to me. I guess the words of a shriveled up little fossil of a woman behind me kind of sums it up. When she heard that the sisters were moving the wheelchairs back to their rooms first and that she would have to wait five minutes before leaving she yelled, "This place is stupid."

The Last two things I put on my new Myspace Blog, in case anyone ever looks here again.

My editor said that sometimes you worry about the person you've interviewed for an upcoming article might die before the magazine comes out. But he's never heard of worrying that the person you just interviewed for an upcoming article will run over your dentist's receptionist's 200 pound husband then keep right on going. That's me. Setting precedents.

Today my editor (maybe i'll shorten that to Ed because editor sounds a bit pretentious but Ed just sounds like my trucker boyfriend.) OK. So. Ed told me that my next article will be interviewing human statues. At first I thought that he was trying to subtly tell me I was fired. But then I realized that interviewing statues is really more like making up a bunch of crap which is what I LOVE BEST so I became very happy and excited. Then I realized (after visiting the website for the aforementioned statues) that human statues are people who stand really still for a living. Sigh.