Two things that put the last week into perspective:
1. "I Saw You" ads. Hands down, my favourite column in any paper must be "I Saw You", not so much because I'm hoping to be on the receiving end of one of these ads, but because of the potential therein. I keep wondering if anyone responds, or if the sender is somehow that much more pathetic for not having jumped at the chance when the situation called for brash action and bold moves. Which would make me pathetic, I guess, though my defense was that I was tired from the travels. Last month, I sent an I Saw You email which went sort of like this: I SAW YOU across our pal's apartment where we both were staying in Montreal (you on the couch, me on the futon) but it didn't even occur to me to act on it until after you were en route back to Brooklyn. He responded. He visited. Now he's home.
2. My dog Lecky and what he says about me. I'm not saying he's out at coffee shops talking shit about me, though he might be. I'm saying you just need to take one look at my dog to realize the kind of guy who'll fit in around here. And on the off chance I bring around a guy who's the living embodiment of my dog, Lecky treats me like I'm a colostomy bag (full, even) and just wants to head out for pints with his new alpha male. He's the unfiltered pure emoter in the house; a picture window into what's going on in my own head. Which is why one quick glance at him will let you in on the overriding emotion currently on display in the household. At the moment, he's moping on the couch, one paw held fast against his forehead as though he's holding his brain in place because his world has been fucked with recently. In a good way. He's keeping Jim O'Rourke's Eureka on heavy rotation.
