Turn Around
Turn Around
Monday I froze. Yesterday it got up to 60 or so & Liz & I celebrated by walking along the waterfront & eating fishenchips. Eating fish always makes me smack of virtue in an unlovely way. Yes, even deep fried fish. Even with chips.
Then Frank at Personnel came in & offered me more work. I winced, then agreed to come back if I could take today off. And I think it must be 70°—full rampant florescence (the floral tribute). I walked around & felt fat. I picked up 1967 & shook it. The sediment did not settle. Hmm, I said to myself.
And now it's almost over; but I got everything done that I wanted (it helps if you make a list of 2 items). I saw wonders (ooh, is that another dead mouse or just a hunk of smashed felt?).
And I read a nice quote by a Frog about how if his house was on fire & he could only save one thing, he'd run in & save the fire. Ha ha, but who was it, Barzun? Brel? Jean Cocteau. Right, that's who I meant.
Lee said that cats rule. Or maybe I did. We agreed. Today I saw a tomcat. Balls & all.
Broadway Starbs 4/24/01
I'll Teach Them
I'll teach them to bill me for large amounts. I'll cancel my appointments & refuse treatment & die of spite.
Curséd spite.
The sun shines on a cold & windy & cloud-proud day. Afternoon. Rain mad pelt at 1 p.m. & then (must be the Jet Stream) the sun came out & shone white light in every droplet dotting my window. Hmm, I said, that's an interesting effect & got up to see how they did it.
They did it upside down! Yes, each drop had the bright sky concentrated in the bottom & the dark of the earth up top. Oh, each one is a lens.
Then I got a bill for my thyroid consult. $285. Hey, I'm supposed to be a charity case, I said.
There's a # to call. I'll call it. But just to be on the solvent side (on the way to dissolution?), I called & cancelled my ultrasound scan. It's not going to show anything anyway, nothing I want to see.
I'm having hot spells again, just as summer beckons.
I'm back to crunching my neck & thinking (w/ incredulous outrage), "nobody should have to spend their life doing that" - meaning the job of pointclick.
And as for writing.... those women.... why do they stand there with their arms folded over their big bosoms? Why?
How many like me? Over aeons? Many.
Many.
BM Starb's 4/28/01
Dreams that Seem to Mean
For 3 nights I had the kind of dreams that seem to mean more than just brain static lighting up patterns across the net.
1) The first. I flew in the dark & arrived at a place – a camp (?), a summer camp maybe in the Sierras. Or a school. Both. Term was over & the students/campers were absent. I found Jean Op. in a cabin with her husband, a short, sturdy, "down-home" kind of guy. They had a child, a toddler. I left & came back, flying about 20 feet up. There was some question about whether I was visible or not. Was very glad to see Jean again.
2) Next night I dreamed I was in bed with Fred, curled up like spoons. I was v. content until I woke up. It was a work morning.
3) I was in a house, a big old one, where I lived with roommates (?). The house was in bad repair or was being remodeled. Fred was there with his wife & somehow I was in the basement right under their bedroom & could hear them making love. I heard him telling her to "spread em." I was embarrassed, angry, jealous. Then they came into the main rooms & the woman told me, rather smugly, that "Fred has a uterus." I said, (sarcastically?), "Yeah, in his brain" & she agreed—not recognizing my sarcasm. Then I woke. Glad that dream was over. It was 6 a.m. & the all the birds were singing.
Then last night I dreamed nothing, no #s, no visits or visitations. I woke up a lot at odd times. Foot stomps at midnight. The radio and/or the neighbors at 4 a.m. (I think "the radio" may have been hypnopompic voices in the whoosh of the fan.) My arm hurt. It was Saturday, but I took no real pleasure in it. A little work done. The sun coming out ....with this employment stint, I'm thrown back on my need for a reason to hope because I can't get the satisfaction from having the work move, that is, making progress. I take no satisfaction in earning my $100 a day.
On the whole, I wish I could draw. Significant what? Lime? Lemon. Or maybe I should content myself w/ word pictures. Old sweaty cheeks there with his skate board.
BM Starbs 5/5/01
Symbolic Infirmities
The Left Hand of weakness. Malàgauche pain. Sinister afflictions.
If the left side is the irrational, the (ahem) feminine, the wordless—then what am I (is it) expressing?
That I missed death by inches in 1973—& I've missed it ever since.
Evening's ephebe (saw I this evening), or was I —almost a palindrome.
I run into CG walking out with garish red hair—in a style a bit too much like mine. She sees me not. Lee tells me she comes in every weekend & complains about everything. I said, "Oh, like me?" He says no—she really complains & she's not funny. When I imitate her in my "Jana" voice, he says, "My god, that's what she really sounds like.
I cleared my desk today, went for a walk & felt unfriendly to my flesh. I feel my old fire's sparks & I want to tell all. Contact. That's all my old fire is. Desire. But out in the afternoon down 18th to Interlaken where the road slowly surrenders to gravity. Perfect spring day. Many cats, but I could handle even more.
BM Starbucks 5/6/01
Monday I froze. Yesterday it got up to 60 or so & Liz & I celebrated by walking along the waterfront & eating fishenchips. Eating fish always makes me smack of virtue in an unlovely way. Yes, even deep fried fish. Even with chips.
Then Frank at Personnel came in & offered me more work. I winced, then agreed to come back if I could take today off. And I think it must be 70°—full rampant florescence (the floral tribute). I walked around & felt fat. I picked up 1967 & shook it. The sediment did not settle. Hmm, I said to myself.
And now it's almost over; but I got everything done that I wanted (it helps if you make a list of 2 items). I saw wonders (ooh, is that another dead mouse or just a hunk of smashed felt?).
And I read a nice quote by a Frog about how if his house was on fire & he could only save one thing, he'd run in & save the fire. Ha ha, but who was it, Barzun? Brel? Jean Cocteau. Right, that's who I meant.
Lee said that cats rule. Or maybe I did. We agreed. Today I saw a tomcat. Balls & all.
Broadway Starbs 4/24/01
I'll Teach Them
I'll teach them to bill me for large amounts. I'll cancel my appointments & refuse treatment & die of spite.
Curséd spite.
The sun shines on a cold & windy & cloud-proud day. Afternoon. Rain mad pelt at 1 p.m. & then (must be the Jet Stream) the sun came out & shone white light in every droplet dotting my window. Hmm, I said, that's an interesting effect & got up to see how they did it.
They did it upside down! Yes, each drop had the bright sky concentrated in the bottom & the dark of the earth up top. Oh, each one is a lens.
Then I got a bill for my thyroid consult. $285. Hey, I'm supposed to be a charity case, I said.
There's a # to call. I'll call it. But just to be on the solvent side (on the way to dissolution?), I called & cancelled my ultrasound scan. It's not going to show anything anyway, nothing I want to see.
I'm having hot spells again, just as summer beckons.
I'm back to crunching my neck & thinking (w/ incredulous outrage), "nobody should have to spend their life doing that" - meaning the job of pointclick.
And as for writing.... those women.... why do they stand there with their arms folded over their big bosoms? Why?
How many like me? Over aeons? Many.
Many.
BM Starb's 4/28/01
Dreams that Seem to Mean
For 3 nights I had the kind of dreams that seem to mean more than just brain static lighting up patterns across the net.
1) The first. I flew in the dark & arrived at a place – a camp (?), a summer camp maybe in the Sierras. Or a school. Both. Term was over & the students/campers were absent. I found Jean Op. in a cabin with her husband, a short, sturdy, "down-home" kind of guy. They had a child, a toddler. I left & came back, flying about 20 feet up. There was some question about whether I was visible or not. Was very glad to see Jean again.
2) Next night I dreamed I was in bed with Fred, curled up like spoons. I was v. content until I woke up. It was a work morning.
3) I was in a house, a big old one, where I lived with roommates (?). The house was in bad repair or was being remodeled. Fred was there with his wife & somehow I was in the basement right under their bedroom & could hear them making love. I heard him telling her to "spread em." I was embarrassed, angry, jealous. Then they came into the main rooms & the woman told me, rather smugly, that "Fred has a uterus." I said, (sarcastically?), "Yeah, in his brain" & she agreed—not recognizing my sarcasm. Then I woke. Glad that dream was over. It was 6 a.m. & the all the birds were singing.
Then last night I dreamed nothing, no #s, no visits or visitations. I woke up a lot at odd times. Foot stomps at midnight. The radio and/or the neighbors at 4 a.m. (I think "the radio" may have been hypnopompic voices in the whoosh of the fan.) My arm hurt. It was Saturday, but I took no real pleasure in it. A little work done. The sun coming out ....with this employment stint, I'm thrown back on my need for a reason to hope because I can't get the satisfaction from having the work move, that is, making progress. I take no satisfaction in earning my $100 a day.
On the whole, I wish I could draw. Significant what? Lime? Lemon. Or maybe I should content myself w/ word pictures. Old sweaty cheeks there with his skate board.
BM Starbs 5/5/01
Symbolic Infirmities
The Left Hand of weakness. Malàgauche pain. Sinister afflictions.
If the left side is the irrational, the (ahem) feminine, the wordless—then what am I (is it) expressing?
That I missed death by inches in 1973—& I've missed it ever since.
Evening's ephebe (saw I this evening), or was I —almost a palindrome.
I run into CG walking out with garish red hair—in a style a bit too much like mine. She sees me not. Lee tells me she comes in every weekend & complains about everything. I said, "Oh, like me?" He says no—she really complains & she's not funny. When I imitate her in my "Jana" voice, he says, "My god, that's what she really sounds like.
I cleared my desk today, went for a walk & felt unfriendly to my flesh. I feel my old fire's sparks & I want to tell all. Contact. That's all my old fire is. Desire. But out in the afternoon down 18th to Interlaken where the road slowly surrenders to gravity. Perfect spring day. Many cats, but I could handle even more.
BM Starbucks 5/6/01
posted by K. E. Ellingson at 4:06 PM
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