both minted and minty

bless tower records... purchased 3 more cds today... including, at 25% off, the men at work album that i listened to OBSESSIVELY my first few months back in AK circa 1998... a cold, horribly depressing winter, driving to arctic valley in my subaru, staring morosely over the cityscape, 'what the FUCK' resonating cruelly in my head. i lost the cassette in one of my many moves. it will be interesting to hear again.
the week in technicolor recap:
friday: got lost in the bowels of puyallup, so did not see my grandfather. fetched friend from work, where they were operating on an otter from the zoo. it had torsed and necrotic intestines and ended up being euthanized on the table, but not before stinking up the place with a fetid fishiness. i took pictures that have not been developed yet. we drove back to seattle and drank port and played dice.
saturday: fucking beautiful. breakfast at randy's, a former denny's by boeing field, the interior disarming shades of orange and magenta, the waitress with her black beehive saying that she'll be back to take our order after her (mimes smoking) "attitude adjustment." went to the waterfront to find souvenir penny presses, then to play with his '60's polaroid beside a fountain as tourists glid by stupidly in their rented segways. drove to bellingham. climbed a hill in utter blackness to reach the 'watchtower' above WWU. saw the fog roll in from the bay. slogged back down the hill with no visibility and limbs numb from cold. ate excellent french fries at the horseshoe cafe. drove back in the same surreal mist, listening to 'blonde on blonde'; arrived at my lair to watch felix the cat cartoons.
sunday: up early to work the 10am shift in tacoma (my hours have been changed again). we parted in the white light of dawn. work... enjoyable, competent, busy. this week went by quickly.
tuesday: in the room of the place he's staying, reading aloud from each other's journals, at one point him saying "i could make love to you right now and mean it," the subsequent 48 hrs saturated with the knowledge that this is one of the fucking nicest things i've ever been told. it was hard to leave. practical, very practical, but i did bang my hands against the steering wheel once i'd turned the corner.
i was 'specialist tech' at work, which involved anesthetic monitoring during one dog's MRI and surgical assistance during another dog's hemilaminectomy. the doctor is a chatty sort. "do you like music during surgery?" i asked. "sure, my cd's are right there" he replied, and i opened the book to find... the backstreet boys, george strait... thankfully my surgical mask disguised my grimace. he did have blondie's greatest hits, so we blared that whilst cauterizing dachshund flesh. cautery is very satisfying. it smells like barbecue and makes a sizzling noise.
the remainder of the week... details, just clutter. i am very much loving my silly little life currently. it has finally gotten interesting in a not wholly negative way.
why did the chicken cross the playground?
to get to the other slide!
bless your clever, stretchy soul, laffy taffy.