things that have happened over the last few days (the full spectrum):
-a homeless man told me i had a "nice ass"
-i read "the oil jar and other stories" by luigi pirandello, which is quite good.
-started reading "methland", which is just despairing. it completely captures the flat leafless coldness and the wood panelling and the stultifying hopelessness of middle america.
-the muscles from my sacrum to my greater trochanter were clumsily ground by an inexperienced elbow. i stared into space and waited for it to stop.
-more people told me to leave my hair long than to cut it, which is slightly depressing.
-a group of women at the next table just stared at me as the waitress delivered my drink. like i don't feel nerdy enough, thanks. i smiled back, stupidly. i think i even said "what?" but it was lost in the ambient din.
-i learnt that a one-way ticket to paris in march is $829, with 2 stops: london and warsaw. one stop tickets jump to $1250-something. i am just being ridiculous, but i cannot stop looking.
-i bought a $99 raincoat. ninety-nine dollar. raincoat. i feel obscene, but i will have it for years. and, pussy that i am, i don't like being sopping wet as much as i pretend to.
-i was told i have "good presence."
-started watching "the onion movie"- based on the fabulous publication. it is funny as shit and offends everybody, but i really should not be sober when viewing it. and so far, i have been. i needed to get my mind off 'paranormal activity', which i am embarassed to admit to. such is the onus of living alone.
-one of the enumclaw horsefuckers fucked some other horses in, i believe, tennessee (kentucky?). it was in the paper. this man was the owner of the farm that served
'purposes of bestiality' and that the one guy, whose name i sadly don't recall, perforated his colon and died at. this was big news in seattle a few years ago: washington, home of serial killers and horsefuckers...
horse penises are huge! they scarcely belong in a horse's vagina, much less in a human rectum!
that is all i've got to say about that.
*
a mouth is just another hand.
so the barbara ehrenreich lecture! i loved 'nickled and dimed'; i first read it whilst living in thurston county and gave my copy to a doctor i worked with who was obsessed with 'the daily show.' i have read some of her other books and found them less lustrous and more preachy. she was a cranky-mouthed wench tonight. the audience was overwhelmingly white, earnest, >50, and clap-happy. her new book is about eschewing the Optimism!!! that's forced upon american culture. she went through treatment for breast cancer a few years ago and was stricken by the condescending 'have a good attitude and you shall heal' expectation she was assaulted with. someone in the audience cited lance armstrong describing his cancer as 'the best thing' that had ever happened to him. "well, sir, you've had a sorry life" she said. "cancer is not a gift and you can take me off your christmas list."
*
so, of course, i thought about my attitude towards things- how if i'm not, ultimately, optimistic (or at least, not pessimistic) about things, i am dead. i whine and complain and stagnate in this fucking blog (how i loathe that term) but if i didn't have some modicum of tra!la! i wouldn't write. i still wonder if tomorrow will be the best fucking day ever... since it obviously won't be today, because today was pretty fucking middle of the road. tomorrow, god damn it. thus, i am an optimist.
i am also self-sabotagingly passive.
fall into my lap, joy! i shall spread my legs ever wider!
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