tavie.com

I did it on one hour sleep and a nose like a saltwater faucet. The whole thing (which, did I mention? was an appointment at the unemployment office so that I can keep getting my benefits) took half an hour.

So's I's spent the rest of the morning dawdling around midtown, then had lunch with Sis. Korean. Spicy.

Now I'm home and once again looking at the clock and noticing that I have to be out of here in 3 hours to meet Gina and Kirsten. When will I get my makeup sleep? The world has to let me sleep at some point or I'll go into a coma and miss both Gina's birthday (Saturday) and Kitana's whirlwind visit (Saturday and Sunday).

I don't do well on no sleep. I really don't. I tend to pass out on people's couches.

I started Toni Morrison's Sula last night and I'm almost done with it. It's the first Toni Morrison I've read and it is breathtaking. Literally, every few pages I keep gasping. Shock after shock. That's some good readin'. Now I know what Kirsten's been talking about all these years.

Last night in Afr-Am-Lit, we watched a documentary about Audre Lorde, a black lesbian poet scholar (good friend of Adrienne Rich, who Matt had me read and she was stunning), and at the end of the documentary you find out that she's died of breast cancer. And it's a shock because the information comes about very suddenly at the end of the movie, as you see film footage taken later and later, and she's getting frailer and frailer. And it made me cry. And the lights came up and I was the only damn one crying. And I'm not even black, lesbian, a poet or a scholar, although my friend Debbie, my Cybermom, died of breast cancer four years ago so maybe that's it. You know that story-- I was the daughter she never had, she helped me through my high-school depression, we kept almost meeting but something always happened to delay it, and she died before we ever met in person. Just like Helene Hanff and Frank Doyle. The story of whom also makes me cry.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:56 PM | shower me with attention