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10/30/2001 I didn’t sleep well, was it the paprika in the potroast, or too much CNN before bedtime? I’m supposed to meet with Count Dracula later this week. He has an enormous castle and has offered to let me stay here in Massachusetts. I was impressed with the note he sent:
(memo to self, get a house warming gift for my host, perhaps a nice set of cufflinks) Suspense is not about the splashy finale. It is all about the excruciating minutia of what is benign and normal. The train is a little late, and perhaps you cut yourself shaving or stuck yourself in the neck with a brooch. Tourist attractions, diary entries and letters in the mail. To read Bram Stoker’s Dracula on a halloween night, with the moon glowing out your bedroom window is sublime. Was that mice in the attic, or someone climbing head first down the wall outside? Count Dracula seems more fully alert, than any of the victorian men in Bram Stoker’s Dracula. This is of course intentional. Jonathan Harker just seems a little pale in comparison. A fiend in need is a fiend indeed. Over powering charisma that has led to so many other interpretations of the tale, from Lon Chaney to Bela Legosi, Raul Julia, Frank Langella. The roles of men and women are somewhat different these days, and so Vampires just aren’t the same as they used to be, either. Tonight is Buffy night. I’ll be sure to pop some popcorn, and kick back my shoes under the sofa. Hug the dog, and wail at the moon. |
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Woke up at 7:35 am in Franklin, MA to the sound of a restless dog. I should have woken up at 7:30, but I often sleep through the alarm just after the time changes. I had my morning coffee, which had surprising overtones of hazelnut. Skipped breakfast, although there was freshly baked cranberry focaccia if I had remembered that it was in the cupboard. (memo to self -- have cranberry focaccia for afternoon tea today.)
