The first post!

Well, this is it, the very first post. I’m going to try to write in an interesting style (perhaps next entry, after I get over, in this entry, how sweet it is to blog, in very ordinary language, like you might see in a newspaper tabloid). Last week at a party: flipping through Virginia Woolf, shoes and stomach soaked in red wine, thinking all I care about is style. I can tell in practically half a page if I want to read something. In this particular case, style matters because so little happens to me that when I started buying shampoo in the really large containers, my life closed up like a sealed pocket. Last night I played poker. The game went terribly, so badly, in fact, that if I’d been a real gambler I would’ve been half-naked and wanted by loan sharks this morning. Instead I only lost three dollars and fifty cents. It didn’t feel badly at the time to lose; it was enjoyable, like something generous, plus I really got down the knack of summoning up two blue chips from the dish and throwing them across the table. Making a challenge. Playing poker with friends, though: not always fun because you can’t tell them after you bluff. After all, you know these people. You’ll be playing with them again before New Year’s. If they knew you were bluffing the flush, they’d force the hand to its crisis every time thereafter. So, when the poker game ends, you shift around uncomfortably, talking about the next morning and eating Swedish fish. Drinking out of a huge octagonal cup with the little edges that bite into your fingers. I have to go downstairs for dinner (sorry, slipping into realtime, only for a second). A friend comes tomorrow to stay. I watched a Coppola film this afternoon. Rumble Fish; Mickey Rourke, amazing as always, a wounded king (I’m only really paraphrasing the lines in the film, but Barfly is the same). Matt Dillon spends most of the movie with a big grey slash across his side, because the film is black-and-white except for some Schindler’s List style colored fish. I have a shaving cut from shaving too fast, shaving nervously, thinking about an upcoming date. The cut is dark, red-pink, silly-looking. In color.

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