Once again, the world changes....
Today's morsel of wisdom:
We're currently in an astrological phase when we have maximum power to transcend limitations. - Rob Breszny, FreeWill Astrology
My non-believer friend poked at me yesterday with, "today my horoscope told me to bust Cybbie's chops," not that anyone has ever needed astrological permission to do that.
But.....I did hop around the house a bit last night. On one foot. My left.
Progress! I am transcending limitations.
I ran (yes, in my foolish boots RAN) up and down the courthouse stairs BECAUSE I COULD when I was there last week (last week, long past time for me to write about that, maybe today, interspersed with script revisions, damn how did things get so complicated and difficult and unrewarding, it's like a constant slog through the mud with this show, what happened to the joy, I want it back..)
Sorry. Stream of conciousness overflows.
Yesterday, we drive in on 66 to the Watergate for lunch. Letters leap out from a building facing me: CACI. For once, I don't have the mental energy to concoct nonsensical words for that mysterious shouting acronym. Anyway, my subconcious nags at me that I know their actual meaning, though I can't retrieve the information right now. We cross the bridge; I point left. My children recognize the rectangular regularity of the Kennedy Center juxtaposed against the curvy, organic, shark-toothed expanse of the Watergate complex.
We explore after an expensive but delightful lunch, seeing all the spots that made it into the lyrics, dodging raindrops, entering the office building, getting permission to skulk around the parking garage underground, meeting a long-time resident who was charmed by my daughter (so glad I had her, what a scam) and showed us around a bit. If the kids hadn't gotten squirrely, I might have wangled and invitation into Watergate West for a peek at an apartment, or at least the corridors (this fellow occupied a penthouse, though he didn't live there thirty two years ago when the break-in happened, he was in a different one. Come for vacation or stay all of your life, indeed.) He's tickled with the idea of Watergate! the Musical, and takes one of the flyers, hanging it on a resident's notice board with a thumbtack.
I finished Tom Wolfe's Bonfire of the Vanities, which contained mulitlayered sentences such as this: The poor filthy river sparkled. Ah, the style! the imagry! the bombastic pomposity! the exclamation points!
I've moved on to a Ray Bradbury novel, Graveyard for Lunatics, which is infinitely more satisfying in both style and content. He is one of my Writing Gods, and I work daily to create prose that approaches his exquisite craftmanship.