The Truman Show

Last night I dreamed that old men were "self recreating" while I read from the collective works of Tennessee Williams on the phone.

I think that I am still recovering from the Festival, because really - that's just creepy.

So we are in post-festival mode, which is still rather hectic. I have about $12,000.00 in credit card purchases to run - I finished about $6,000.00 WOOT! I also spoke to IN TOUCH magazine. Apparently the scoop is Angelina attended the Fest, and they wanted confirmation. My response was "Wow. I don't know about that, I think someone would have screamed or somethin'. " I said it with my best southern accent too. I figure they think we're a bunch of slack-jawed rubes here in New Orleans, so why ruin it for them Then I passed the call on to K-town. Apparently the reporter knew every step Angelina made that day. Again with the creepy.

I did manage to swing by Garden District Book Shop and pick up Answered Prayers by Truman Capote. I have a confession to make. You see I like Tennessee Williams, I LOVE Truman Capote. Every word he wrote was perfect and beautiful. I can't think of any other way to say it. A lot of my friends don't get why I love him so much, yeah he wrote like an angel, but he was a mean little bastard - but I don't see him that way. I once heard someone say that they felt that Truman was a lot like Marilyn Monroe, a lonely little blond with a little voice, starving for love that got caught in a world that was more cutthroat then they imagined. That rings true to me. Ultimately they both overdosed on love substitutes, drugs, alcohol and celebrity... all because they felt empty. So Truman has always held a little bit of my heart. I always felt that he was stuck in a world that was cruel to him. Anyway, enough about my love of Tru - I got the book because I have always been afraid to read it. What if it sucks? What if it's not beautiful? What if it's just mean? So tonight I will see, wish me luck. I want to enjoy this read - unfinished or not. I am sure one night when I am sloppy drunk I will wax poetic on Truman, in depth, and it shall be wince-worthy, just a warning!

Oh, and as one more post Festival wrap up, one of the best things was meeting Amy - so you know, I did try your "song and writing" thing ... Sadly, the only song going through my head lately has been Lollipop by Mika - YIKES! Catchy tune -- have no idea of what it means - a sure sign that I'm aging, and not doing it well.