The sound of Ataris

God, I'm itching to get out of here (I leave on Saturday). Barrels of fun waiting for me back in the U.S. of A; cruisin' around in Lolly jamming out to the blues on her sad old speakers, trippin' roads (and face) to Wesleyan and back with L. Greco, drunken sailor chat with R. Fonticoba involving the far east and everyone we know, catting around NYC for the first time since I moved out here, job hunting (really?), getting to know our capital with Joey G., getting to know Joey G. with the capital, watching The 400 Blows on the big ass tv in my parents' house whilst munching on Whole Foods products a-plenty, sending my clothes to the dry-cleaners, giving my lacy undergarments a nice hand-washing in my lovely little rose-covered bathroom, and many other things.

I finally made it to Barry Lyndon today. T'was long. But the more I piece together the plot, in my head, the grander and more significant I find the entire story. And the film, is beautiful. We should talk about it sometime. Now is not the time nor place. But, I have never seen an actress as doll-like as Lady Lyndon; if I had a dime for every still I wish I could replicate in painting form.. well, I'd be able to pay my phone bill instead of skipping the country. Although, pft, Ryan O'Neal. Whose idea was that? On my walk home through the meadows, I saw a guy walking his ltd. edish mini-leopard cats--two of them, they must have been expensive --on leashes. They had some serious issues with the leash thing, most of them, I presume, stemming from the fact that they weren't dogs. You should have seen the guy trying to get them to cross the street. I just stopped and stared.