My student wants me to see a slam poet tonight but I think I'll pass, too tired. I have to be 'ready' for performance pieces, emotionally prepared. I once brought a friend to a reading where there was also a performance artist from the local art school. She brought all her friends to watch her lie on the floor and randomly rearrange poker chips and little pieces of wood. My friend was so polite. Her friends were...worshipful. I thought it was dumb so we left. Patti, thankfully, never brought it up again. I wonder if she thinks I like that sort of thing. Although when the ice cream truck drives by playing Fur Elise, I flinch.