Trying to see if listening to modern classical, like that by Philip Glass, spurs me to write, more than my old stand-by, the Pet Shop Boys.
So, I had to go to the Jefferson ER the other night, and a really nice male intern became the only one to ever get the joke behind my listing Butch’s place of employment as Vanderlay Industries, a Seinfeld reference. It takes so little to charm me. I didn’t press it though, and just rolled home, when released.
Alone; to my cat.
I’ve gone over It again and again, in my head, HOW I could’ve played it. differently. I THINK most of my doubt comes from a fear of mis-reading social clues or inferences, as I DID OR must’ve done, most. notably, on 1/31/99.
Bottom-line, I forgave Ian and Glen right away for assaulting me. The fact that the Gardai caught them and they went to jail so quickly, allowed me the luxury of not wallowing on that too much.
I can forgive their ignorant, societally inculcated fear and brutality so readily; my own failure to see their fear and hate, not so much.
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