perhaps it's the weather, hot sun and frigid shade, buildings appearing clean-lined and shiny- autumnal clime, shall i say. this weather reminds me of certain things to the point of aching. i was on the bus, light slanting through smears, looking out over the (from a distance) brick austerity of the u-district (up close it is a rather shitty neighborhood), and i felt homesick for my past. does that make sense? i thought of riding my bike through the rare snow here, coming home to someone, making love in the afternoon, hungover mornings with hungover company, kicking dead leaves on seneca street, the swingset at elderberry park. immediately i have to consciously remind myself that throughout this nostagic ballyhoo, the present -the well-lit, very satisfactory present- is slipping by. and then the fact that i have to REMIND myself of such plebian notions makes me rather depressed.
but when the bus got downtown i witnessed a purse-snatching (a purse-snatching! it sounds so indignant, so nellie bly!) and the resultant busload of comment cheered me somewhat.
my landlords are out of town and i am watering the hillside of flora in their absence. the neighbor on the other side of them, brian, came out to talk whilst i hosed. he has lived in the building for "embarrassingly enough, 20 years." nice guy. apparently the building was built during the '62 world's fair. it is lovely to live among plants. my sunflowers have already died.

trivial details matter the most!
1. what is in my refrigerator?
red grapes, black grapes (not as good), organic butter, fake mayonnaise, soy sauce, mushrooms, unopened honey-mustard salad dressing, hi-cal canned cat food for the helix, iced green tea in a water bottle
2. what is in my car?
disco ball, glowing octopus, nodding armadillo, dirty scrub tops, empty cans, cigarette butts in a bottle, 'from a basement on a hill', bag of pennies stolen from my yelm days
3. last movie seen?
match point or happiness... it's been a while
4. last song heard that didn't cause revulsion?
u2 'zooropa'
5. last book read?
'the way it spozed to be'- nonfiction of a first-year teacher at an inner-city school and the CALAMITIES that ensue
6. new experience of the last 7 days:
seeing a spinal column and the connecting nerves on a dog having disc surgery

allow me to interrupt myself! disc surgery is refreshingly primitive. the incision is done with laser and electrocautery, the inflamed disc-bits are chiseled out, and the column is left bare at the surgery site, covered with cellophaney material so the tissue doesn;t stick to the nerves during healing. the skin is stitched up and voila. i imagine it is not too dissimilar in humans. the dog recovered on valium and morphine. she was still sleeping when my shift ended.