Messages from God

Well, not God exactly... but now that I have your attention:

Today I received a text message from the Director of the movie Aftermath (the one I posted about a few weeks ago). I will traduce here:

"Kat - Just watched the film from the police station- i was impressed. Text back so I know if this is you. You did a real nice job-- Thomas"

Thomas is the name of the director, not to be confused with Mister Thomnas the X who is doing oh such a good job of ignoring me nowadays, without reason.

I mean... what is it that I do? Is it me? God, I wish I knew. I ask myself all the time.

But I digress...
Isn't that awesome though? That the director, after seeing the footage went through the trouble of contacting me to let me know he liked what he saw. AH!

This could mean good things, very very good things.

In other news, today I took a little walk around the block, or blocks. I can say without reservation that our fine house is the ugliest house on the block. Everything else is.... how can I explain? Most of the houses here date back just a tad less than a century and many have undergone random, obvious restorations/renovations over the years with many different owners with varying tastes and styles. What at least unites 75% of the block are the neatly mowed lawns and the spacious whitewashed verandas that, now in Spring, look like inanimate apparitions from the old Southern towns. Something right out of To Kill a Mockingbird, how I picture it anyway.

I also, today, walked the few blocks over to The Muddy Cup where I grabbed a medium Colombian (coffee, not man) and a slice of banana bread. In between pages of Hemingway, The Sun Also Rises Book II, I observed the surroundings, did some people watching and silent critiquing.

Hey, what they don't know... can't hurt them.

I didn't like the feeling of forced Bohemian Vibe, although for a second or two I got lost in the feel of the token well-broken-in-torn-pea-green-leather chair in which I was reading. I saw a Professor I had once last year, whose class I dropped because he was so flamboyant that I couldn't concentrate on the material (and the material, besides, which didn't interest me very much). I saw familiar faces, eavesdropped on conversations and sipped my Colombian until it got too cold to drink, which was thankfully at the last few drops, at which point I concluded page 111 of the novel (which I had been marking up con cuidado), and walked to Price Chopper. I got some groceries which will serve as my sustinance through the next week, then walked home and here I am.

But now, Ladies and Gentlemen, Random Notes, Part Trois:

a) Self-observation. I've not begun smoking again. Good for me! [pats self on back]

b) I had the romantic notion today to take a bubble bath with a scented candle while reading Pablo Neruda's "20 Love Poems...". In short, the water got cold fast, the smell of the candle was lost to the room, the tub was too small and my book got all wet. I ended up taking a shower in the end. Note in Short: Next time use hotter water and listen to Vivaldi instead of reading Neruda. Also, use more than one scented candle and perhaps scented bath oils..

oh...

the list goes on, but...

so does life and life moves faster than words and so my words
should
stop
. here.