File under things that worry me about Hillary Clinton: As far as she's concerned? The People only speak when they say her name.
When people ask me "So, what's new?" I usually look at my feet and go "Oh, y'know, working, writing," instead of looking them in the eye and saying "Well, let's see--I weeded a neurotic attraction from my romantic garden; I broke the Never Say Depressing Things Out Loud Because They Have Power Law in an e-mail conversation to Australia; I came up with an idea for a play that I'm amazed no one has thought of before, and after thinking about it in skit terms I'm now thinking about it in play terms, which means a better finished product but a longer time writing it, sigh; the novel chapter that's been kicking my ass for six weeks is finally done, or as done as it'll ever be, so I'm moving on to the next one; but every weekend between now and Shakespeare's birthday is booked with something, so when I'm going to do all this writing, I have no idea. And that's this week. You?"
During the Monday night preview performance of Gypsy that I attended, a piece of the ceiling fell on someone in the balcony. Two people, actually. You can read about that, and other falling-pieces-of-New-York stories, here.
From Vectors: Thirty-Six Aphorisms and Ten Second Essays, by James Richardson:
1. The road reaches every place, the short cut only one.
6. You've never said anything as stupid as what people thought you said.
9. If the couple could see themselves twenty years later, they might not recognize their love, but they would recognize their argument.
13. The best way to know your faults is to notice which ones you accuse others of.
14. No matter how much time I save, I have only now.
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