At first I wasn't entirely into this book. I'm not sure why, but I opened it and the small type and the 329 pages intimidated me. Maybe even the contents: a poem by Gerard Malanga, an interview with Camille Paglia, and a story of a man's descent into madness over his dead cat. I thought it was too much to handle at first. Maybe it is, but I'm diving in finally. I had to ask for a one-week extension, so now instead of my review being due on the 15th it's due on the 21st.Elsewhere in my news, I just got my ticket in the mail today to the Roisin Murphy concert I'm going to in NYC on October 24th. I'm very excited, although I'm only going for one brief day and night and another brief day then back to Ohio. I should probably have booked myself through Sunday, but it would have cost an extra $100. The airlines are a real rip-off these days. I'm lucky to have found a flight for $195 on such short notice. The concert ticket was $50, then I'm staying with my old pal Lisa York Drummond. She's from Australia and she remains one of my best friends in the whole world. I met her when I lived in Brooklyn, where she still manages to stick it out. I'm not sure how she's ended up living there for so long. I wish I had that staying power, but I had to leave. There are lots of Italian Americans there, speaking of Wild Dreams.
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