layoffs at work. starting my period with a teeth-gritting vengeance. fretting over how i'm handling things with d, who i'm not sure i want to be more than friends with. he keeps dropping these facts about himself that are incredibly intriguing and yet definite deal-breakers. i still want the gentle tra-la hippie boy with good hygeine and excellent taste in music, who goes so slowly that i'm frantic, who wants to lay in a fucking field and talk about the goddamn clouds... not pontificate about some incoherent sci-fi storyline until i can feel my pupils glaze over and i am forced to smilingly say "you lost me a while ago."
i really don't need to be in a relationship. i have too much other shit to focus on- like school, like staying employed, like walking around and doing whatever pretentious introverted crap i please.
by writing this, i am trying to convince myself that i am not full of shit.
after the vocational shit-fannery, i drove north. north has always been my route of purgatory, but i find it more boring now that i don't smoke. i got off on hwy 312 (?), thinking "i've never been to lake stevens", and ended up in suburban hell, on anonymous roads lined with huge fences hiding enormous foreclosed subdivisions, past subways and mcdonald's and petSmarts and generic churches. i was listening to "un histoire de melody nelson" in its entirety. the hotel scene, where he's fucking her and she's emitting rather ugly, jarring squeals, is both hilarious and disturbing- she's a doe-eyed redheaded teenager and he's serge gainsbourg, the homeliest man that france ever spawned. i have been obsessed with him for awhile; i've had a picture of him and jane birkin on my fridge for years- and always imagine how foul his breath must be.
back in seattle, i went to the waterfront and pioneer square to take pictures. it was fucking cold. this winter has been a fucking misery. at this moment, for example, it is raining slush sideways against my window. were it not for the inoperational, brightly-hued construction cranes hovering over various bankrupt projects, i would feel that i'm living in an entirely black-and-white movie.
on one of the more colorful corners of downtown i took this picture. the woman walking with the cane-holding man- she was twirling, actually- saw me take this. "you just take my picture?" she asked. she was cheerful about it. "did i break your camera?" i laughed. "oh no, now she's laughing" she said, stumbling away. people were unusually nice yesterday- perhaps i was an emitting a "please be kind to me" vibe. it was noticed and appreciated, in any event.
...yerba mate and tony curtis' autobiography. started another book about the golden age of the american family road trip circa 1946-1974- the sociological and economic shifts that this trend created. the route 5 to greenwood, where i got stranded in the freezing cold darkness for about half an hour. he and i talked on the phone as i climbed home. i turned on the xmas lights in my lair and felt warm for the first time in hours. trip-hop played in the background. i had a nip of absinthe and watched the cars along the freeway.
lucidly, i always KNOW to just let things go. nothing is worth being panicked about. overanalysis shall be the death of me, should i let it be so. sometimes it is much easier to just step away and let the world flow around me. it might even lead to a rather satisfying outcome.
at four pm today there is an informal meeting at work for everyone to discuss the state of the business. at the very least, i have some clarity to look forward to.
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