Tuesday, December 18th, 2007


All the hilly towns I’m driving through in central Pennsylvania are coated in a brilliantly glossy ice-coated snow shell due to a partial thaw followed by a freeze. The proprietor of this pet cemetery allowed me to look around, but warned me that if I let myself slide down the hill, I’d end up in the lake at its foot. He wasn’t kidding. I had to use my rental car keys to help claw my way back up the hill to the car, where my very warm and alive dog was waiting for me.

(Sent from mobile phone.)

Advertisements

I’ve been talking a lot of trash about New York in the last year or so, onstage and off, and have even thought about breaking up. (“It’s not you, it’s me…”) But as I drive across the Brooklyn Bridge on this bright winter morning, preparing to leave town for awhile, I’m keenly aware that this love story ain’t over yet.

(Sent from mobile phone.)