Curiosity Kitten.

People are drunk in my livingroom, but I'm upstairs and quiet, working on a mix that is meant to be for Terrance, but keeps turning into one for someone else.

I've a lovely day planned for tomorrow: I'll make Dover sole for the first time for dinner, and we'll visit the cool kids' club the lovely piercing and tattooing place where Parker would like to get a second job, and then there will be drag kings, and possibly friends. (Let me know if you'd like to join us for drag kings in west Philly tomorrow, by the way.)

And the only thing that could possibly be better than all of that is the news I just received. Philadelphia is one of my favourite places in all the world, but it is nothing at all, now, compared with what it could be.

Oh, good God. I've not listened to Elton John in so long. There are words I barely remember, so it is familiar and new all at once. He's perfect. I don't know what to do with myself.



My dearest Meredith,

My email isn't quite working, tonight. Also, I would seem to have lied: these are not all circus girls. Some of them are men, and one of them is probably more of a woman than a girl. I hope that you enjoy them anyway, and I also hope that you get whatever you like for breakfast every day for the rest of your life.

Yours,
Jack



This is my one-thousandth livejournal entry.