I had a really long talk with my mom last night before I went to bed. I love the occasions when I can call and chat with her and rather than getting updates on the family and going through the general "what's new there?" kind of stuff, we actually get to have conversations like friends about life in general. Last night we chatted for a considerable amount of time about the publication of my book, not so much if I want to do it and how I'd go about it, but more about my fears of people reading it and assuming so many things. Certainly the stories is heavily heavily based on the people in my life and my experiences with a specific person in particular, but let's also face it and say that the book includes things that if people were to recognise, it would hurt them. So we chatted about that and just about writing in general. It was refreshing to have that kind of conversation with her, it's been a long time coming.
We went to this two man play on Friday night and well.....well....no, I won't go there, I'll leave it. Let's just say it was called "weepie" and it was supposed to be about these two guys who commit a murder and it was advertised as being this intense look at how murders are simply scapegoats for the social problems of today. So I thought it'd be interesting to go and see how they play that out, how they argue it, and it really wasn't about that at all. I like to think I have a really open mind and I can understand the symbolism of certain things, but this thing....well, it was a stretch. A Loooooooooooong stretch. Saturday night I fell asleep with my hands both under my pillow and at one point in the morning I awoke to find they'd BOTH fallen asleep in that way where they felt like they weighed a million pounds each. It made for some comedy when I tried to pick my phone up from the bedside table to check the time. It amused me anyway, as much as anything can amuse you at 6 a.m.