Baa.

Baa...

I just saw the film Black Sheep. Oh man. I thought it was great. It plays again at midnight on Saturday at the Neptune.

It is what it looks like. A "horror" film where a bunch of sheep start attacking. That's all you need to know. See it.

My bedroom is effing hot as hell right now. Seriously. This time of year always rolls around and I get really excited by the lovely weather - but it always is accompanied by a small bout of insomnia. I have ways I like to cope, and they often involve sharing overly personal info about myself and craving cold beer and white wine (or champagne). I'm not writing this because I have this urge to write (which, if you know me, is pretty much always - not news...). I'm writing to delay laying here, thinking about how sticky I feel. And thinking about how dry the air from my fan feels. But the movement of the air is necessary.

So there are two distinct seasons I experience from my bedroom. And the shift is truly monumental. There's "open window" season, and then there's "closed window" season. There may be a few anomalies - but for the most part, there's a day I open my bedroom window in May, and it stays open until September. I start to get used to, and even crave the fresh air. I wake with the birds in the morning, and can hear the clicking of high heels on pavement as roommates stumble home late at night. Car alarms and construction across the street only add to the chaos of sound. But I love it. I love feeling a little closer to the outside world. Feeling less a part of this house, in the purely physical sense. Like I'm camping on a rooftop or something.

See the moon tonight? Beautiful. I love it.