Daydreamer

Today I received dueling emails from places of my residence.

One, a familiar email from the small neighboring arts community a few towns over from my hometown, the other from the place where I presently reside.

I found it ironic, the juxtaposition of it. There’d been a robbery at one of the tentpole jewelry stores back home, and Friday evening in my present beach town there’s a cosmopolitan art show in the metropolitan area replete with cheese and wine (the latter I will not be consuming for obvious reasons);

I had two strong cups of black coffee this morning. Last night, in a fit of fancy, I decided to add to my David Lynch collection of films I permanently own in the digital landscape. I’d already purchased Wild at Heart, but then I added Mulholland Drive, Lost Highway, and Blue Velvet to the list. Now all I need to add is The Straight Story, Eraserhead, Inland Empire, and Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me, then I’ll be golden. It feels like security, usually I just rely on the carousel of films on all streaming services, but as a David Lynch fan, that sort of casual relationship to films that mean so much to me seemed a bit too unreliable. Now if I could own them on *physical* media, that would be the tops.

Yesterday, I made the mistake of sleeping through my therapy appointment. I hadn’t meant to, but there’s something so drowsy about the Florida coast when a squall is about to plunder through, I found myself unable to resist a nap. Usually, I have a hell of a time napping, but I feel as though I’ve turned into a regular Rip van Winkle with the way I can just lay my head upon a pillow and drift away.

I’m somewhat resenting showing up to volunteer. I don’t know why, it’s the easiest and most satisfying thing in the world, I guess I just resent having to sit and stay in a place as dictated. How could I not? But then again, I resented the same thing when I had the liberty of staying out at a coffee shop all day. How can anyone not resent being told what they should do? I’m a Sagittarius Rising and Venus, with a strong Scorpio Moon and Sun, so I suppose I hate any kind of interference on my freedom. If I had it my way, I’d dawdle the day away reading my embarrassment of books and cooking every recipe that tickles my fancy.

Like this morning, I thought of doing a Milanese: breaded chicken cutlets brined with green olive juice and oregano, the coarse breadcrumbs bedecked with lemon pepper, oregano, and finely grated Asiago and Pecorino cheeses! I would pan fry them until golden brown then broil them topped with a decadent slice of Halloumi and crumbles of brined goat cheese. I want to serve it with crispy fingerling potatoes seasoned with more lemon pepper and oregano, and smashed Castlevserano olive halves, crispy shallots, and a delicious lemon vinaigrette with a small salad of cucumbers smiling with pickled red onion.

I miss cooking so much.