Every summer I have a purpose, a goal, an intent. This summer, I don’t have that. And it’s making me absurdly stressed out. I have places I could go and things I could see, but there is nothing pulling me to a new continent. Romania did for a spell, and it still does, but I’m trying to be fiscally responsible. That’s why I’m not going, and that’s why I’m not going to UCLA. Will somebody please give me buckets of money? It’s for a good cause. I’ll buy a cute archaeological wardrobe and take intense courses and be a better Ben. But until then, I’ll just be the same me in very nice shoes.
LOVE: Pleasantville: For a great many years, I’ve felt that I was living in the wrong moment. Life would be so much better if it was 1933 and I was in […]