Now the FBI's gone too far.
And this proves that if a person stays in one place for long enough suddenly people think they're a person of honor, a model citizen, deserving of theoretical merit badges. The letter, dated September 12th, reads:

Ms. Parisi: On behalf of the Buffalo Division of the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI), I would like to invite you to participate in the FBI's Citizens' Academy.
...
Special Agents will discuss various business and community concerns including the FBI's responsibilities in the areas of white collar crime, violent crime, drugs, couterintelligence, counterterrorism, and civil rights among others. We will specifically address areas such as our deadly force policy...

All this as the national media ring the Middling City's Niagara Square, perched under white craft fair-like tents to talk about the men of bleak Lackawanna who allegedly sent emails of 'large meals' which would overstuff their home turf with smart bomb calories and deadly goodness.
Oh, and three lorikeets at the Buffalo Zoo have West Nile croaked.
Welcome to the Middling City, international topics of conversation.

My unbadged and curmudgeonly love.

Perfect update:

Dig this, me and my paper editor are spending a day at an FBI training camp where we get to fire firearms all the day long. I'm also hellion hoping that I get deft training in the roll and come up shooting maneuver, learn to shoot a gun sideways and get to scream FREEZE OR I'LL END YOUR WORM-LIKE EXISTENCE NOW, MOTHERFUCKER.
Will they attempt to recruit us: I have a horrific memory of when Justin had a grand idea to grab a snack and get out of the rain by entering the defunct God is Love storefront (now a pseudo gay club) for shits & giggles. I said Justin, if they lock us in here I'll kick yer ass and mid-rant we heard the undeniable and ghastly click. Maybe the FBI will collar us, not let us leave until we each swear to sign our lives over for a stint short and volatile, specials ops-like and secret. I'm hoping there's a tank on the premises so I can finally drive a tank as that op ages ago never panned out via the scary, mysterious Army guy who turned up on the Icon scene and promised Yours Truly a chance at the helm of a tank for a short drive around Connecticut Street Armory.

Conflagration opening was suitable fiery. Jen drove into town and we did pre-opening errands together, including the buying of dollar store Barbies to represent the model twins Kathleen and Colleen for their b-day cake (they turned 23 on 9/13- opening night) and later I did no better than when I was eight of chopping silky Barbie hair so the dolls would resemble them, sort of.
Lopping. Regret. Fixing. Regret.
The opening was boozy and I forgot to bring b-day cake candles and Laura and Jen said Well, set the back wall of the cake (I fashioned a cake to look just like the kitchen set that Josh built for the Conflagration art shoot) on fire. And who am I not to oblige the idea and desire for fire? A paper napkin was lit, the wall was minutely torched and I have a delightful Polaroid of the twins blowing frantically on it and later shots of them licking frosting off the legs of their Barbie selves.
We drove afterwards en masse to an Irish joint and Jen and I did a spontaneous ballet to Bohemian Rhapsody and collaborative Ted pulled up, jumped out of his car and ran to join us, doing mad pushups.

Back to normal? Ha.
During the Conflagration opening a fellow artiste pressed a bunch of postcards into my hand for an upcoming show. Godammit, I thought, why can't I have a flyer-free night, esp when it's my Big Nite? Next day I glanced at the card and, get this, I'm listed as one of 15 artists in a small works show opening... September 29th.
And then I have an opening on October 4th.

My love.
My over-caffeinated heart full of love.