This image popped up when I googled stealing. "Bigfoot stealing" it would be.

I’m leaving at 4:30 am tomorrow for the Dominican Republic. I’ll be gone for two weeks and although I will not be reading much while climbing Pico Duarte, I will be spending some of that time sitting around and reading. Here is a list of the books I am contemplating bringing:

Confessions of an English Opium-Eater by Thomas de Quincy (this is a reread- I read it 20 years ago)

Dopefiend by Donald Goines

Open Secrets by Alice Munro

New Orleans Review

Electric Literature No. 1 (I submitted something to them recently)

The Lathe of Heaven by Ursula K. LeGuin (I started it and then put it down…we’ll see)

The Light Years by Elizabeth Jane Howard

Suicide Squeeze by Victor Gischler

The Collected Short Stories of W. Somerset Maugham

Maybe some other lit journals

Now, on airplanes, I no longer can read books, wierdly. (That goes for subways, too. I think it’s age related- I need a peaceful envirnment to read, whereas once I read walking down the street or anywhere.) So I have this ritual of buying Esquire, GQ, Details and Maxim. Last time we went to the DR, I also bought the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition and threw it at my husband who was sitting in the row in front of me next to a massively pumped up Dominican man. I then preceded to get very jealous and angry, even though I’m the one who bought it and threw it at him. The Dominican man asked he if could look at it: my husband gladly shared it with him. Anyway, I read shitty men’s magazines on airplanes. I find them soothing. I can’t read women’s magazines- I never have been able to–because I really don’t want to read about handbags and botox. Really, really don’t want to. Potato chips, cars and women with boobs and slutty, as opposed to fashionable, clothing? Aaaah. Maxim is my favorite! Who doesn’t like “hometown hotties?”

Also, I have new shelves in my office here in Brooklyn! That means I had to empty out and go through four boxes of crap from my old office that I never had anywhere to put for the past year, because I had no shelves. It was very moving and very dusty. One folder I found contained my fifth grade basketball team photo, my first grade class photo, musical arrangements of Shaker music from my dad, the lyrics of “where did you sleep last night” by ledbelly, three articles on husbands/boyfriends killing thier wives/girlfriends  as well as my freshman year of high school”note”  and grade (a 2.5, which was a C minus/D plus- my school had a wierd grading system) from my Spanish teacher ( I was seriously stoned everyday that year- not my best year) which I will share with you here:

pr- Your work has been consistently in the middle all term.  I find  your fatigued presence in class and lack of focus during class particpation most disconcerting as it seems you either don’t get enough sleep or something. You have the tools in Spanish so use them. Your final was very disappointing. Let’s see if you can start fresh next term–you are capable of better work.

Oh Ms Just! I am so sorry I disappointed you! It was definitely “or something”, um, and I didn’t sleep much. How can you sleep much when you are busy sucking down endless bongs all night long? Anyway, if you saw me now, you would be maybe not proud, but less disappointed. I am not high all the time anymore! And I speak Spanish fairly well. Anyway, sorry again, wherever you are.