I feel that I’m once again getting down to the nitty gritty and that everything else is gravy. How to explain? Life has never felt less dramatic. I’m not sure exactly from what that is resulting. I guess I feel secure emotionally and financially and that I am, for the most part, representing myself in such a way that I feel proud. I feel detached, autonomous and not under any scrutiny. I don’t feel particularly creative perhaps, another reason why forcing me to write these Blagues every day can be a boon. I don’t feel like venturing to far forth. I want to stick with the same territory. Which is why I’m so happy with the trips coming up. I don’t need to go back to Maine as yet. I’m happy to explore the Cape this Fall, but that will be so fast and fleeting. And then away for three weeks. Not only are we staying in our old familar London neighborhood but also in our old familiar Paris one as well, near the Pantheon, in walking distance to Bikram Yoga Rive Gauche and the Luxembourg Gardens and our favorite, and I mean favorite, cafe, probably, of all time, where I plan to eat two meals a day, at the least, every day I’m there. You think I’m kidding but I’m not.
Meanwhile, however, and I’m glad it happens in this order, we have a costume party to attend in Edinburgh on a dystopian theme. I’m confused too. Besides going as a Zombie or some character in 1984, I suppose we could come up with something original. But it’s hard to think costumes while traveling with a medium sized suitcase. One must be clever. I suppose I could just find some proletariat workers jumpsuits or some cast-off costuming from a Janet Jackson video, or do something vagule Mad Max ish. I don’t know. I have a few joke ideas up my sleeve that involve minimal baggage, real or emotional. Anyway that happens in the highlands of Scotland which will be bookended by nights at the Edinburgh Residences. There is quite a good pubby restaurant right in that area, a kind of basement grotto witchy pagan Scottish kind of place with a soupçon of Presbyterianism.
I do plan on being rather thinnish by the time the party rolls around; and then I plan on letting myself completely go. I jest (not really). But, from Edinburgh we will take train to London then Eurostar to Paris all in one day to arrive at our tiny flat in the fifth. Je cannot wait. Well I can. I have to be clear about what I’m taking with me and what I’m not taking with me. I have to have all of my 2018 Haute Astrology Books finished and designed and ready to go. I must also have any Christmas show we’re planning to do at Joe’s Pub all mapped out. We will return mid November to Boston to see Bridget Barkan, whom I’m producing perform at Oberon/American Repertory Theater—I first produce John Kelly in September—as party of an expanded series, now in its third year, that I do there. Which is quite fun, I must say. So we return mid November meaning I should probably have the new Christmas show mapped out if not before, than while, I’m away. If we have a magazine feature to write, as well, I will write that before I go away, between end September to end October.
I know I have to start working on my own solo show this year. And my musicianship and improvisational talent. I think about that time I wrote about here, year one, of the Cosmic Blague, about playing the piano at The Bell Caffe. I have quite a bit of story now, here, under my belt. Several thousand screenplays probably. We will one day unpack it all. But for now I have some entrepreneurial plans to hatch and hatch them I will.
Typos happen—I don’t have time or an intern to edit.*
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