up. too. late.

last night was worse. ended up having to take a sleeping pill. rarely happens to me, tho frequently does to james. he is snoring peacefully now, a quiet burr of a snore, a nice snore. i'd rather be the one up rattling away than him. let him rest. anyways, i feel hypnos creeping up w/a soft blanket, & that makes me think of windsor mccay & "little nemo in slumberland." what a gorgeous, odd, gentle, scary comic. can't wait to go to the library tomorrow. got a list of books i want to check out... yes, head's swirling w/a million thoughts, tho thankfully now not worries of family/mortality. for instance, i'm glad to know [a certain blues artist] wasn't the writer of "it hurts me too," a song i so so love. when things were awful w/a distant & cruel ex, i would drive around & around blubbering  & play that version of that song & just know that if james knew how that  guy treated me, he would feel that way... i told him this recently & he understood... back to the [a certain blues artist] pt, i've mentioned that james has met just about everybody worth meeting from the american music & boxing world (& others), but i guess this blues man was a racist jerk toward him. i felt bad when i heard that. he'd said the same about [another blues artist], but i somehow expected that from  that guy. james's #2 & #1 singers, big joe turner & cab calloway: really nice & cool... we watched a fantasy vid: ali vs tyson - what if? when i drank, i loved watching boxing, but sober, could no longer stomach it. w/james, i enjoy it again. realized what i didn't like was watching uneven fights, one-sided fights, ones where one guy obviously was having his brains beaten out before our very eyes. james shows me just the best ones, those examples of the sweet science, & w/his experienced commentary, it's really swell... yesterday we dropped james jr off at renaissance faire 45 mins north, then visited my dear friend at her beautiful new home in her beautiful town & over pizza & salad speculated that she & james might be cousins & had quite a nice visit. we came home & james went to rip van winkle land & i drove myself nuts thinking about everything all at once. today james had his 1st afternoon at don the beachcomber, so to pacify my mind, i hoofed it up there, 7 1/2 miles. it was a bit too warm to be a blissful run, w/summer on the horizon & especially since i always wear long sleeves (again, one of those things: i've always hated my arms & james repeatedly says the 1st time he saw me play, "i couldn't stop watching your arms. i thought, oh man, i wanna feel those arms...") he always does that: takes something i dislike about myself & says he loves it  enough times in enough ways that i know he's not just blowing smoke up my skirt. at the gig, james sang & performed his heart out, as he did the other night at gallaghers. he is stronger & sharper every day, & that reminds me: yesterday he had 5 months w/o booze & today we celebrate 6 months' married life. james's long-time gentle tough-guy friend marshall was right that some ppl are just "mean & jealous," but most are so happy for us. at both recent gigs, my name's mentioned & i brace for the boo's, cause i'm just like that, but people smile & cheer, & again the other night, when i got up there & sang w/him, we got the johnny & june comparison... i tell you, it's something else... at don's we got comped decent fish & chips & the staff was very nice & the blues express sounded finer than ever, finer every time lately (i think they missed james while we were on honeymoon), & scott & i exchanged info about james's upcoming europe trip (i'm working on finding bookings, too) & as we drove home, james  reminded me to concentrate on "being here" cause that's tough the last few days, not floating away, held my hand thru the grocery store, while he lay in bed & i finished watching the beautiful & sincere pseudoscience trip-pic "the secret life of plants," patting his plastered-back hair, which has been growing out in irish curls (the other day he called me in to show me that his hairline is growing back a bit, & dang if it's not! "must be cause i'm not stressed anymore," he said)...  think it must be getting late. we are still here. you are still here. at least i think we all are. what do you think? "reality" gets weird when contemplated too much. yes, too much cogitating can just make a person useless. i am proof of this. don't want to go anti-intellectual, tho. said eleanor roosevelt, quoted in recent smithsonian, "a mature person is one who does not think only in absolutes."

since it's too late to go outside, it's time to get in bed w/my dear husband. goodbye.