of erins and air conditioning

I’ve had a string of good writing hours lately (and by “good,” I don’t necessarily mean that the writing I’ve been doing is good—I won’t know that until much later—just that I’ve felt awake and inspired while doing it). I attribute this to the following:

1. Coffee. Always.

2. Reading Like Son, which, despite its flaws—or perhaps because of them—makes me want to boot up my laptop and write as soon as I get five pages into it. It’s an uneven and sometimes unsatisfying book, but it’s also full of spark and poetry and lovely layers of history.

3. It’s so hot that I haven’t worked out for more than a week. While writing and working out meet different needs, they’re both the Things I Do When I Have Free Time And Am Not Feeling So Lazy That I Must Lose Myself In The Current Issue Of Elle (which, by the way, has the best interview with Lindsay Lohan I’ve read [the link only links to half the article]; the journalist is steeped in enabler-guilt, and I always relate to the guilt-ridden). Anyway, instead of jogging, I’ve been writing in various air-conditioned locales.

The heat has also been good for my contacts, which I recently started wearing because as a reader of fashion magazines, I know that looking good hurts, and since I’m too much of a dyke to wear stilettos, I guess I decided I would start poking myself in the eye daily instead. So far it’s been an itchy, frustrating experience, but since it’s been 99-plus degrees, I think my eyeballs have been sweating and lubricating my otherwise dry lenses. I bet you really wanted to know that.

AK and I have also been seeing a lot of movies (the overrated Superbad, the nicely made Stardust and the moving, well-acted if predictably-biopic-ish La Vie en Rose), largely for the air conditioning. But it’s probably good for my narrative brain too. Jamie and I hung out with the ever-inspiring Juan Felipe Herrera last week, who pulled references from the air like fireflies—not someone bent on impressing you by how well read they are, but just someone perpetually interested in the world—and it was a nice reminder that one should be relaxed and open enough to reap illumination from all corners of life.

And hopefully drinking beer with friends counts, because last night AK, Erin, Erin and I met up (after an all-too-common comedy of freeway-related errors) at Akbar, where we did our best to catch up over the loud music as Erin R. was nearly toppled by two girls making out (despite this scene, the night was weirdly straight. I think this may be the direction Akbar is headed in). AK and I hit the dance floor for a little Cyndi Lauper, and it was awesome as always to see the Erins. Thanks for making the drive, ladies.