how long are you going to keep this up? my father asked.
i have made the mistake of informing him that- thanks to a combination of fun, work and biography- in an eight day stretch i’m going from l.a. to winnipeg and to nyc. all this during the season that i have trumpeted to the family as one in which i will be “taking some time off.”
i gave myself three years. we’re just past one. i’m having the time of my life! it’s a glorious wonderland of biographical dreams come true! a carnival of glitter and happy and cake staffed by jackie’s nearest relatives and dearest friends!
so, it’s almost totally irrelevant that, being the mistress of this carnival over the last year has aged me 800. at least.
and not in a helen mirren way. oh no, no. this is not a fine, full-bodied vintage, but a sour crustiness. the kind that typically comes from whole lifetimes of hardcore drug usage. we’re talking desperately aged. trashed. like keith richards.
i do wonder how long i can keep this up, but i don’t mention that to my dad. instead, i remain incandescently positive and say, i’m almost there! there’s just l.a. and winnipeg and new york and then maybe prague and paris and london and…
this is where he interrupts me. i know, i know. go, have your adventure. you’ll sleep when you’re dead.
(mm photo by jock carroll)