shockadelica!

i went to the u-district street fair today. it was very enjoyable, as a matter of fact. the foreboding clouds dumped an abrupt shitload of rain; vendors were scrambling to cover their wares. there were far too many overly pendantic college folk; i lingered at the seattle atheist booth until i could stand eavesdropping no more. at what point in life does justifying your personal beliefs seem not only unneccessary but tedious? show what you are, don't just sit around blathering about it. and thus i have handily proven myself a hypocrite.
there are many groups in seattle (i am subscribed to a list; all i have taken from it are drawing classes) like the Wiccan Mothers and the Astral Projectors and the Aboriginal Nihilists... part of me is extremely curious to crash one of these and quietly observe, but a bigger part of me cringes in disgust.
the atheist booth was selling an amusing pin: "jesus revealed himself to me! call the police!"
afterwards i went to the cheese festival at pike place. there are few things more masochistic than a lactose-intolerant soul like myself wandering waiflike, chewing gum to distract myself, among booths of dairy. i thought "ha ha, everyone here's going to be constipated" to make myself feel better, but it didn't help. the street had a rather sour aroma.
j called earlier and asked what my plans for the evening were. "i need to do laundry" i said. it probably sounded like a godawful cop-out but he did not know the Truth. which is: for the last 10 months that i have lived in my current lair, i have developed a habit of doing one load's worth of laundry at a time on the single washer-dryer unit in the basement. the rest of the clothes have been accumulating in my spidery storage locker. i have essentially been wearing one load's worth of wardrobe for 10 months. and that is all (amply) anyone needs, really. but coming to terms with the slothfulness of this habit horrified me somewhat. i went to the laundromat with everything; it filled the trunk of my car. dumped a load at the donation bin. filled 7 double washers with the rest. (2 of those washers held scrubs, 3 held bedding.) i had the place to myself. i was singing and twirling around, only interrupted once. apparently the hipper cats don't sashay around laundromats on a saturday evening.
i once bought a new set of sheets because i was too lazy to wash the one set i had.
i have also done this with socks.
this is pretty shameful.
the more options we have, the unhappier and less fulfilled we are. that is the content of the latest book i am reading on the sly at the odious chain bookstore. and it is fucking true. this is a culture of grotesque excess. i am squirmily aware of this as i survey my own wasteful wistful habitude.