Tuesday Bluesday
Yesterday I won the heart of one of my tutees by recognizing her reference to a Velvet Underground song, and regaling her with the time I saw Lou Reed at the Beacon in leather pants.
He was in leather pants, that is. And they were gorgeous. And my friends and I had snuck in a poland spring bottle that wasn't poland spring, making it all the better. But I didn't tell her that part.
I'm wondering if I should give up the tiny smidgen of pretense I have of being a good role model and just embrace being a "cool" teacher/tutor thoroughly, start bragging about my nonexistent tatoos and the nonexistent trail of brokenhearted exes/heroin habits in my past. And then offer my students some nonexistent weed. Thought, dear readers?
...But c'mon now folks, who can forget hearing their first Velvet Underground album? I mean, I'm not going to describe it here because I'm saving it for fiction/memoirs, but even more than the Beatles or Bob, that was a seminal moment. Let's just put it that way.
Lou, I love you!
PS I had another crazy early morning dream involving a kidnapped Chelsea Clinton, Mel Gibson, a car crash and financial ruin. But not necessarily in that order. Try to interpret that, Sigmund.
PPS Studio 60 on the sunset strip needs to make like Aaron Sorkin when he tokes up and CHILL THE FUCK OUT. Hello, it's a show about a COMEDY. But it's kind of seriously addictive.
He was in leather pants, that is. And they were gorgeous. And my friends and I had snuck in a poland spring bottle that wasn't poland spring, making it all the better. But I didn't tell her that part.
I'm wondering if I should give up the tiny smidgen of pretense I have of being a good role model and just embrace being a "cool" teacher/tutor thoroughly, start bragging about my nonexistent tatoos and the nonexistent trail of brokenhearted exes/heroin habits in my past. And then offer my students some nonexistent weed. Thought, dear readers?
...But c'mon now folks, who can forget hearing their first Velvet Underground album? I mean, I'm not going to describe it here because I'm saving it for fiction/memoirs, but even more than the Beatles or Bob, that was a seminal moment. Let's just put it that way.
Lou, I love you!
PS I had another crazy early morning dream involving a kidnapped Chelsea Clinton, Mel Gibson, a car crash and financial ruin. But not necessarily in that order. Try to interpret that, Sigmund.
PPS Studio 60 on the sunset strip needs to make like Aaron Sorkin when he tokes up and CHILL THE FUCK OUT. Hello, it's a show about a COMEDY. But it's kind of seriously addictive.
Labels: My bumbling life
posted by SarahMarian at 9:09 AM
2 Comments:
It's a DRAMA about a comedy.
Really? I thought it was a comedy about a drama. I'm going to have to re-assess.
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