Saturday, March 23, 2013

March 23, 2013

Today's Entry from Criminal Journal:

. . . illumed with the fatal
character and intelligent
actions of their lives
                                             
                     Allen Ginsberg


Nothing criminal to report! Nothing today that is. (It’s only 7 a.m. Stick around.) Lots criminal from the past. M– and I went to Edward McKay’s used bookshop, and I bought $50 worth of good, practically brand-new titles. You might say that’s criminal, since I promised Mo I wouldn’t buy any more books for awhile. But that was five months ago, and I’ve been hesitant to break that promise. Since I’ve shelved and alphabetized at least 5,000 of our current stock that was piled around and squashed into cartons, I feel I am re-acquainted with the stock and know what to buy to fill in some gaps.
     I treated M– to dinner at Ghassan’s. Ghassan’s is the cheapest restaurant in Greensboro. The whole thing, including tips cost me less than $15.00, and it only cost that because M– purchased a “Sprite.”  She didn’t look happy, but I didn’t take that personally.
     I intended to ask M– pointblank what was so criminal about wanting to hold her hand and put my arm around her, as we watched a movie. But at the beginning of our date, if you can call McKay’s+Ghassan’s a date, she looked so bitter, and by the end of our date, she looked so happy, I didn’t have the heart to bring up something sour.
     My rule for several years now is I don’t watch a movie with a woman without holding her hand or putting my arm around her. Consequently it’s been several years since I’ve watched a movie with anyone but men. This makes me a criminal?
     Lots of criminal activity from the past to report, but I intend this journal entry to be very brief. I’ll save some juicy stories for further down the road as we wordsmiths say.
     Anya off to New York for ten days. She’s braving the audition circuit, very ambitious of her. Nothing criminal about that. But. But Anya hasn’t been to see me for over a month. Nice emails. Excusing herself. She’s busy walking dogs and substitute teaching once a week. No time to visit Al. For at least three, probably four years, Anya has visited me for dinner, for a walk, for a visit once a week. This is the first month that’s gone by without such like, with the sole exception of her seven weeks blissing out at Omega Institute last summer. (She’s off to Buddhaville Omega again this summer. Nothing criminal about that on the face of it. But I wonder. Only kidding. Only kidding.)

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