Why do we want to be part of something Bigger? At the Altun Ha Ruins, Puhg says he wants to steal a piece of rock from the site. When the tour disperses he finds a pebble—light green and grey. He thinks that means it’s of the old world. I wonder why this means something to him. A person with no Mayan heritage, little scholarship of ancient peoples.
Why do people take pictures with me after they have seen me do a 45-minute sketch show on a cruise ship? My face will mean nothing to them, I think. Whose face would I like to be next to in a photo? I watch the Katy Perry documentary. Night after night of meet ‘n’ greet. The same cupcake dress. Different fans but not really. Proof that they exist in the same world as this pop star. Was he looking for proof he exists in the same universe as history?
I hear a song in the morning on my iPhone, and I sing it. And in the afternoon ZPill during Rumy sings it, and I say, “I was singing that this morning” and he says, “it was just playing.” I had heard it too—but I hadn’t.
Cecily Strong says she was happy with how her Correspondent’s Dinner speech went because she got to talk about things that matter to her. To HER? I wonder. But what matters to her now matters to more, so that’s not bad at all, I suppose. The ocean has a magical quality. What is it? Is it the bigness? I touch the drop that touches New Orleans that touches Belize that touches Africa? Do we know when we reach it? Do we ever stop?