Sometimes I worry that I don’t have anything left to say. At least not anything nice, which means: nothing I can say. But then I know, when I really think about it: that’s not true. It’s just all so overwhelming sometimes.

Here are some of the things I’ve been thinking about lately:

I think to myself that Peggy Jo Tallas never would have imagined that some people would get together and make a whole show about her, and yet: we did. And I believe it was a good show. It had heart because: we all fell a little bit in love with Peggy Jo. And it’s true: she was audacious, even if it’s also true that nobody uses that word. We tore down the set together on Tuesday and it made me a little sad. I scraped up my knuckles and bled, and that’s just the way it goes.

LA has been gone for what feels like forever, to Sweden, to France; she’s in Paris now, and leaves for Berlin tomorrow. After Berlin, she’ll go to Zurich or Mallorca, and then finally: back home, mid-July. Which feels like a million miles away.

Yoshimi has crumbs in his beard. It’s pretty cute.

Gleason is taking a nap. Also pretty cute.

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Last night I dreamt that we were in a big house. The house was somehow your house. Every room had lots of beds, so guests were welcome. The house was a jumble of houses. There was a ghost in a rocking chair in the basement. Her child was your mother or her mother or her mother. Her child was all of us.

Last night I dreamt that I was in the Fellowship Hall and kitchen of the church I grew up in, the Laird Hill United Methodist Church. The church doesn’t exist anymore, it’s congregants sent elsewhere. The building now houses a new congregation. I walked down the hall toward the bathrooms and the sunday school rooms and the nursery, and there were several drag queens. They were wearing sequins and very high heels. This was their church now. I was no longer welcome here.

Last night I dreamt that I was in the Fellowship Hall and kitchen of the church I grew up in, the Laird Hill United Methodist Church. I was roller skating around and around the room. The building wasn’t a church anymore, but just an empty building, and I was considering renovating it and making it into a theatre/roller rink.

Last night I dreamt that I was calling 911. I could see the digital numbers on the phone in my hand, “911.” I can’t remember why I was calling, but it was an emergency, and you were there.

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This one’s for you, Peggy Jo