Leo 11° (August 2)

Yesterday does feel like something of a dream having gone into Rome, and hour by car, each, there and back (after doing the same thing the night before to eat at La Pergola (and now this monring we will head into Rome for the third time in a span of thirty-six hours. I don’t know how people feel rested. Well I do, actually. It’s because they don’t really have the same stresses as we do. I’m sure they have their own which are just as real and challenging; and, truly, I don’t want anybody else’s problems but my own really. I could easily never have white wine again, nearly, for the rest of my life. Although the first two whites at La Pergola the other night were probably some of the best wines I have ever had in my entire lifetime. Anyway, the alarm went off. I definitely kept S. up a bit. I tried to go sleep in the salon but when I did so I realized that everyone was still up and I could here J. and others still in the throes of conversation. So it wasn’t really an option. The alarm went off at four and S. was already in the bathroom; then what I thought was a second alarm went off, but it was the crew calling. We finished packing, got a couple Americanos brought up to us; then we were ready to go. J. and N. got up to say goodbye which they really didn’t have to do. Otherwise it was Al, Alex and Paula and the taxi driver packing our bags into the trunk and we were off. It was a shorter drive than suspected this morning and check in was relatively painless. The lounge always makes things easier; however they really weren’t set up and they weren’t in the least apologetic about that. I am not a big BA fan to be honest. I’m on the plane and there is this total blowhard sitting behind me talking none too interesting about gods know what.

The reset needs to be the real point of all of this. I was saying to S. that, in light of the people who now populate my life, I can’t for the life of me understand why I allowed myself to be surrounded by such judgy people in the past. Why would I do that. Both J.D.s fall into this category. Who the fuck are they. I am so done giving a shit about what folks like this feel or do. There are still forty days left until festival and I am determined to bring in a thousand dollars a day. I also need to frontload the work needing doing on the Margie Ella Jacket side of things. I have big fish to fry and I am going to fry it. We are going to create an excellent product. We are going to get this podcast recorded, up and running. If we are indeed in a nearly six weeks scenario, I’m also going to spend the next fornight reducing because who needs all this extra, not I. In a week’s time, too, is the deposition. And I have to make sure that we sail through that without any stress. The people on this plane are talking so loud behind me it’s really getting annoying. I sent Harrison a note this morning asking him to reserve us a table for tonight. I love the way our cozy little world works, I really do. It would be ideal if I could take a little walk this afternoon to clear my head. I will try to make that happen, perhaps, if S. takes a little nap. I could use a little something like that today for sure. The last time I had a moment to stroll around on my own for an hour was in London which was more like half an hour really. We will be solving the living situation soon in any case and I will be able to enjoy some more city time in the coming year. I am capable of pulling out all stops these next several weeks for sure, giving it my all being something I owe to myself really. I’ll never know why certain people stopped donating to the cause. I may never know the reason why. I can only hope that I have other, new, means of making it all come together.

There is this totally annoying family behind me on this plane from Rome to London. They are taking up two full rows, both sides, and they keep changing places and pulling on my seat and then, when there are kids in it, they kick the back of it. I am trying not to lose my cool because that always ends badly but they need to fuck the fuck off. I can only hope they are reading this.

I dream a world and I’m going to make it happen. I am going to be ever more expansive and go for the jugular when it comes to this fundraising jazz. I see no good reason why not to pull out all stops on that score and all the others. We have an opportunity now to make some real magic and I have to use the festival work as a springboard, actually for the larger Glow work. We are met at the exit from the plane by Jenny who looks like what I’d imagine J. will look like in twenty years. She used to work for the airline and knows everybody. Obviously retired now, she plays this kind of role as an expeditor. We really couldn’t have negotiated this transition without her. She powered us through every point and still we had time to hit the lounge for twenty minutes. She has two grown children a teacher and a doctor. She had her gallbladder removed and wishes she hadn’t. She has fairly thinning hair dyed blondy red. She cured herself of a hernia and of acid reflux by doing a daily morning ritual of drinking water and jumping up and down as if on a trampoline. Anyway she took us to another terminal and all the way to the gate where the giant plane was loading with a mass of people. She recognized the voice of the person at the gate and said something to the effect of: Ah, that’s my friend, we are going to go right through. Then she parted the people like the red sea and we sailed through and were one of the first people to board the plane.

The flight was the best ever of our lives probably. The food was great. I watched the same movie over and over—Tolkien—between naps, meals, drinks; and the staff were very kind and there was no amount of snark that can characterize B.A.. We sailed right through customs and passport control, though I barely remember it I was so tired and wined and dined. We called a Lyft and this incredible young Chinese guy showed up with all sorts of paraphenalia in his car along with candies and cookies from his homeland. It was a wonderful ride. Then back at the Eliot, our home away from home, we napped for nearly four hours before going downstairs to Uni for dinner. The only bummer, and it is a miniscule one, is that we were seated at the one table I despise in the restaurant—the one smack against a column with an overhead light that feels a little too much like an interrogation lamp. There was obviously some kind of sports event in town because there were lots of overindulged children in the restaurant—allowed to drum with their chopsticks for instance—so I moved to sit on the banquette with S. and just had cocktails with my tuna tartare (she had salmon sashimi) then we shared brussel sprouts, fried rice with shrimp, wagu dumplings. They brought us himachi and some kind of sorbet-y dessert. And some saki based cocktails. S. had ordered bottle of Riesling but I never even had any. Fell asleep to PBS American Masters about Ursula K. Leguin.

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol will be one degree higher than the one listed for today. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°,  for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360  degrees spread over 365 or 6 days per year—so they near but not exactly correlate.

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
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