| dewy decimal |
2003-07-02 - 2:27 p.m.
"Hello."
"Hello."
"What's your name dude?"
"Dustin."
"Oh, any relationship to Dustin Hoffman?"
"Yes. He is my father."
After press check last night, I went back with Jeff to Vanz place and we exchanged tales from our trips. It is so good to see Vanessa look so good. To witness her conflicts that push and pull in her head like a youthful Tug of War game. She is an extraordinary girl. I am pleased by her questions. I anticipate her answers. I know they will be coming soon. I expect that she will become very, very happy. I hope she decides to go to NY and share happy with me.
Went with Jon to Le Gay. We played Dbl Dare with our beer-fevers. We skipped around tables. Spun in hesitant circles on the empty dance floor. Scolded the lights with pointed index fingers, naughty, naughty lights. Asked people what brand of rubber slipper they were wearing. Flattered the invisibles. Let our hair down. Sat in the worst light. We played. As in sand boxes and sprinkler parties. as in immediatism. As in spontaneity. As in foolish. As in harmless. As in Creative fucks Social. More fun than paper airplanes! More than that though, on my drive home before I spun on the wet freeway in a 1440 degree doughnut of near death (completely freaked me the fuck out), I realized in a moment that I have found a real friend, tonight in Jon. Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens.