The Sunday Evening Post

It was raining when I woke up this morning so I stayed in bed for a good long time and listened to it while exchanging text messages with Will. When I finally got up I met George Clooney at the dining room table and together we wrote critiques for class. After an hour I closed George, put in a load of laundry and headed into the living room for 90 crunches, 105 push-ups and 90 sit-ups and then spent almost five minutes massaging my IT bands with a foam roller.

After a quick shower B and I headed to the Beach Chalet for lunch. Our table was just one removed from the long bank of windows that look over the Great Highway onto Ocean Beach so we ate lunch (he had a salad and I ate a burger) and drank Blood Marys (me) and mimosas (him) and watched the relentless green and white chaos of the Pacific while discussing his upcoming 60th birthday celebration in Palm Springs next month. Afterwards we rode home under great big clouds and the bluest sky while "Clarity" played on repeat.

When we got home Bevan made dinner and I folded laundry and then we laid across each other on the couch and watched Girls and listened to an episode of Serial and then watched Looking. Bevan fell asleep during Serial but denied it and then got mad at me when I tried to quiz him on what happened afterwards.

Now I'm lying on my stomach in bed typing this post and catching up with my friend Miranda who's currently finishing school at Columbia College in Chicago.

Oh, speaking of Girls, I cannot get enough of Jessa. She wasn't in much of tonight's episode because Hannah's Iowa arc had to play out, but I made Bevan hit pause while I wrote down one of her lines because Jemima Kirke delivered it perfectly and none of the other characters flinched, which made it even better.

"You know if you want some cash you could just sell an organ. People will pay so much fucking money for an organ. It's such a racket."

It reminded me of a text message convo my little brother and I shared four and a half years ago when I was newly out and losing my shit about dying alone.