Sitting on my front porch, reading a play on my iPad, Action lays at my feet, slightly confused as to why were locked out of the apartment, but happy that were together. Were not technically locked out, but the cleaning woman is inside, so no dogs allowed. The neighbor kids (mind you theyre in their 20s and theyre from the other end of the block) are blasting some good 80s music on the hill above me Im not the one who wants to tell you, just what you want to do, smoking weed, and talking about Korean people, hardly distracting me from this really great Amy Herzog play. I got hired by one of the larger Southern CA theater companies to do the graphic for an upcoming premiere and Im really psyched, because, while I dont want my career to be all about graphics, its nice that my years of doing graphics for theaters has finally drawn the attention of some big players. Action starts barking, I assume its at the unleashed dog the stoners have with them, but its a delivery man with a small white bag. Scholl? Im oddly not even surprised that he pronounced my name correctly, as I tell Action to Leave it and like a good boy, he settles. I take the package. Its those little ankle socks, but in argyle, that I ordered online because Im not wearing white socks anymore after seeing a fashion video that reminded me that you shouldnt wear white socks, like ever, and its about time I get with the program. I start thinking about how the delivery guy wasnt with UPS or anything, and envisioned my delivery being the only thing he did today, like he picked it up from the manufacturer in, like Fresno, and drove it all the way to me, and now that I have it, hes just gonna drive all the way back home to his apartment and watch TV. And now Action is sitting at my feet again, looking up at me affectionately, and Im actually getting a little weepy because, while things arent perfect, Im suddenly acutely aware of how lucky I am to have this life.
Posted on: Wed, 02 Jul 2014 19:01:55 +0000
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