Waiting on a Beautiful Day

I'm still dry, but I haven't been staying very hungry.  Still, I think the lack of alcohol calories should account for something.  I will weigh myself tomorrow.  If I am not down from the week before. . . well, I don't know, but it wouldn't seem fair.  It would mean I am fated to be a fat man for the rest of my life.  It would mean I would have to adopt a new persona, and I will start eating breakfast cakes again.  

We'll see tomorrow.  

Clouds and rain, clouds and rain.  The weather everywhere is a mess.  Nobody seems to know why.  

Ho! 

The world is full of war.  China, Russia, North Korea, and Iran have allied.  They don't like the U.S. so very much.  Things seem dangerous.  

So. . . thank God for football and the Golden Globes.  

I watched neither.  But this morning, like a good American, I read all about them.  It is important to know who made the playoffs.  I'm curious why sports guys have to use their arms and hands. . . nee. . . their entire bodies. . . to illustrate everything they say.  It is disconcerting.  I can't imagine spending time with that.  I've read that blows to the head are bad for brains.  And yet. . . . 

I'm glad that the sartorial code is so loose now.  I looked at the "Best Dressed" list from the Golden Globes this morning.  Oh, my. . . yes.  Those costumes are very informative.  They make me feel better.  You can wear whatever you want, whenever.  Nobody I saw showed up in flip-flops, but I am sure it would have been fine if not noteworthy.  I mean. . . if they were Gucci.  I saw people bigger than I wearing red in parody of fire engines.  Yes. . . maybe I'd wear a red tux.  With no shirt.  That seemed to be a thing.  And flip-flops.  From sartorial to satori, the wisdom of the suit, so to speak.   It lets you know who is crazy and who you might be best to avoid.  

Personal best.  Winner, winner. . . . 

I'm trying to be nice.  I won't pick a worst.  

I DO enjoy the Kieran Culkin and Robert Downey Jr. wins, but I am miffed about the "Marvelous Mrs. Maisel" snub.  

Rather, I watched "Hemingway's Garden of Eden" instead, a movie I didn't know about, made in 2008.  How did this one get by me?  It was a terrible movie, but I enjoyed it.  It was a delight for the eyes, or mine, anyway, as I love the era.  I'm a fool for it all.  As for the movie, it sticks closely to the published novel (that I haven't read since it came out in 1986) which received mixed reviews due to the manner in which it was edited.  But if you think of Hemingway as a macho man, you need to read this.  It's a transgender novel that he began in the 1940s, with transformations and open sexuality.  Everything turns crazy, of course, but. . . . .

I don't know how or why, but you can read it online here (link).  It confuses me that this doesn't break copyright laws.  But there it is.  

I think I'll need to read it again, but I want to get the full manuscript and not the edited version.  Apparently, the manuscripts are a mess.  Hemingway was never able to complete the novel, so we only have his words, sort of like Fitzgerald's "The Last Tycoon."  Holy Christ, those fellows could write.  

I think they have the manuscripts at the Hemingway Library in Boston.  Did I ever tell you about being invited and attending the Hemingway/PEN awards there one year?  Of being allowed to go through the Hemingway archives alone?  

Yea, yea. . . I know I did.  Just saying.  

I just deleted a morose closing to this post that took me awhile to write, but I was getting more negative than silly.  Remember. . . PMA!  

It would be easier if the sun would shine.  Until then. . . .