Last night, we saw Brokeback Mountain, after several failed attempts. Every single person in LA wants to see this movie, it seems. They're right to want it, as Brokeback is probably going to be the best movie I see this year, if not for a long long time. I mean, it's beautiful and sad and tragic. It's a marvel of a thing.
This morning I snapped out of sleep an hour before my alarm, and laid in bed, covers pulled up tight, thinking and dreaming. Maybe it was all that Wyoming scenery, the news that a friend is leaving town, or just the slow-building travel feeling deep inside. But as soon as I finish recuperating financially from this summer's cross-country jaunt, maybe it'll be time to pack my backpack again, get out there for a little while.
Wind rustling through the trees. I want to go sailing.
Instead, I'll start telling Frank what happened on this week's Bones.