What I didn’t like was just now when I looked at my myspace profile (Yes. I have one.) and it said I am 34.

It’s not real unless you write it down and I think I have been in denial. What a very grownup age to be.

Also this morning in the elevator a man was making small talk with me and remarked that I was carrying an instrument. He asked me what it was and how long I’d been playing. I had to tell him that I have been playing the violin for 30 years. I am way too young to have been doing anything for 30 years, and yet there it is.

Thanks, random stranger in the elevator, for reminding me of the inevitable passage of time and, consequently, my own mortality.

Awfully swell of you.


Reading:
The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay

Hearing:
The tippy-tapping of chatting with P, the hum of the lights.

Needing:
A pee.

In My Car CD Player:
Peter Gabriel, So