Yeah, Who's a Fool?
Yeah, Who's a Fool?
Stale cake is better than no cake at all. Yes or no?
Like, bad ideas are better than none.
That Lee...
I walk into the Starbucks & say to him, "What would you do if you were me?"
and he says, "I'd shoot ME." And he's not smiling, but it's his Monday.
He's lying.
Next to me, 2 guys with accents argue about the housework & cooking. I can't place the white guy's accent. He looks...young. But maybe Czech? Russian? Are they a couple or just roommates? Guys are so lame. Young guys. Well, some girls too.
The fulla shit gene just expresses itself differently in the two (or is it four, or five?) sexes.
The young guys play with their cell phones. I don't think it's lekking, except of the most general (knee-jerk) kind. I'm the only female in the vicinity & too old to elicit lekking behavior. Anyway, I think they are gayboys.
I can't tell when they are that young—the styles change. One is wearing a ski-hat and the other has plaid pants & a backward baseball hat.
Yesterday I was in such a bad mood. But today the sun came out & I was happy. Nothing good has happened & I'm $10 poorer & still have no prospects. Still. If I'm going to commit myself to a Solution, I have to do it soon. I'm at the point of having to dig the dollar bills out from under my chest of drawers.
I wish I could like it here. I wonder if I could like it anywhere.
B.M.*bucks 1/25/01
Either Way
It could go either way, only knowing me, it will undoubtedly go That Way. But you know what I always say, either way, it’s going to be fine.
Only I need to go buy that gun right now. Maybe tomorrow I’ll go shopping. If I could count on getting my tax refund soon.
(I had $15 under the bureau. No mail)
Do I feel vindictive? Sure. I just wish I didn’t have to spend so much money just to escape. Or I wish I had enough that it wouldn’t matter.
Yeah, well, it’s too bad I don’t have a car and a garage to park it in.
I went to Group Health today. Now that everything is on the web, it’s impossible to find a job—all over the state of Washington. Feature that. Impossible for me anyway. So, I dropped my resume off at Park & Recs, which is right across the street from GH & I’m sure it was just my imagination that the H.R. guy thought I was Vaguely Suspect & a possible undesirable alien.
(No argument there.)
Still, it was a sunny, mild day, the kind that’s bound to lead to energy shortages, but not in this kid. I marched down Denny & I marched back up. I saw some skateboarder kids with a wrinkly dog & I thought, “Jesus, I’m sick of face jewelry.”
BM Starbucks 1/26/01
Impingement
Even as reality keeps impinging on my enjoyment, my own spurry bones seem to be impinging on my joint space. Acromion. Greek pinchbeck styling defect. Excuse me, engineering defect.
But I suppose there's some trade off. Maybe when I was young (oh, when I was young), I could reach farther? Or do something better—jumping jacks perhaps. And now, and now. Look at me, I can't unhook my bra.
I'd gladly fall down dead, if only I knew how.
On the whole though, I feel good. Of course I feel good. I haven't gone to some shit-sucking, soul-crushing, brain-macerating, time-wasting job for two whole months. And now it's time to pay. I don't want to spend a lot of money on death when I can spend it on life—more fun. (What Goethe didn't say on his death-bed, but what he was probably thinking.) Licht or Lust. Whatever. More sounds good to me. A little more? Yes, please.
Well, suffice to say, I didn't go buy a pistol, not even a small one, and so I still have $200. And no way out except miracle or smash.
I do feel bad when I wake up. I've been sleeping not badly. Warmish but no hot flashes, and so only the painful shoulder to cosset. And haven't I just had wonderful dreams. Cats & lovers. Young lovers (the young "French" feller telling me I looked better than Emmy Lou Harris must have turned my jowly head!) & great fat fluffy cats. My heart.
BM Starbuck's 1/27/01
The Sweet Use of Present Adversity
Namely my poverty, is that I can extract maximum satisfaction from small boons. E.G.? Today I broke into my last $200 & went to buy what I most needed: shampoo, t.p. & cake—& would you believe, they were all on sale. It made me feel that things might be going my way, however briefly.
And with my hair slicked back & the red lipstick on, I got men staring at me. Oh & then Lee gives me my coffee free. But I didn't win the lotto. Also, mom didn't call, which meant I didn't have to prevaricate. I bought a scratch ticket; I hope my luck doesn't peter out (the way it usually does).
A nice walk on a dark Sunday. Heavy cloud cover unraveling in the west like one of my old gray sweaters. And the sun lighting the top stories of the houses in a way that seems (huff puff) almost supernatural. Actually, the bit of lighted cloud in the southwest as I came down Federal looked like lace on an ancient ball gown.
And then I got my money & found everything on sale.
All quiet—half quiet—on Broadway because all the fools were home or in bars watching the Stupor Bowl. Cold though & I just manage to avoid Kay in an ugly hat: she doesn't look around when she walks.
I also gave a crazy guy a bum steer. I bet he called me a bitch when he found out. Well, too bad, that's what he gets. (And what do I get?)
BM Starbuck's 1/28/01
Stale cake is better than no cake at all. Yes or no?
Like, bad ideas are better than none.
That Lee...
I walk into the Starbucks & say to him, "What would you do if you were me?"
and he says, "I'd shoot ME." And he's not smiling, but it's his Monday.
He's lying.
Next to me, 2 guys with accents argue about the housework & cooking. I can't place the white guy's accent. He looks...young. But maybe Czech? Russian? Are they a couple or just roommates? Guys are so lame. Young guys. Well, some girls too.
The fulla shit gene just expresses itself differently in the two (or is it four, or five?) sexes.
The young guys play with their cell phones. I don't think it's lekking, except of the most general (knee-jerk) kind. I'm the only female in the vicinity & too old to elicit lekking behavior. Anyway, I think they are gayboys.
I can't tell when they are that young—the styles change. One is wearing a ski-hat and the other has plaid pants & a backward baseball hat.
Yesterday I was in such a bad mood. But today the sun came out & I was happy. Nothing good has happened & I'm $10 poorer & still have no prospects. Still. If I'm going to commit myself to a Solution, I have to do it soon. I'm at the point of having to dig the dollar bills out from under my chest of drawers.
I wish I could like it here. I wonder if I could like it anywhere.
B.M.*bucks 1/25/01
Either Way
It could go either way, only knowing me, it will undoubtedly go That Way. But you know what I always say, either way, it’s going to be fine.
Only I need to go buy that gun right now. Maybe tomorrow I’ll go shopping. If I could count on getting my tax refund soon.
(I had $15 under the bureau. No mail)
Do I feel vindictive? Sure. I just wish I didn’t have to spend so much money just to escape. Or I wish I had enough that it wouldn’t matter.
Yeah, well, it’s too bad I don’t have a car and a garage to park it in.
I went to Group Health today. Now that everything is on the web, it’s impossible to find a job—all over the state of Washington. Feature that. Impossible for me anyway. So, I dropped my resume off at Park & Recs, which is right across the street from GH & I’m sure it was just my imagination that the H.R. guy thought I was Vaguely Suspect & a possible undesirable alien.
(No argument there.)
Still, it was a sunny, mild day, the kind that’s bound to lead to energy shortages, but not in this kid. I marched down Denny & I marched back up. I saw some skateboarder kids with a wrinkly dog & I thought, “Jesus, I’m sick of face jewelry.”
BM Starbucks 1/26/01
Impingement
Even as reality keeps impinging on my enjoyment, my own spurry bones seem to be impinging on my joint space. Acromion. Greek pinchbeck styling defect. Excuse me, engineering defect.
But I suppose there's some trade off. Maybe when I was young (oh, when I was young), I could reach farther? Or do something better—jumping jacks perhaps. And now, and now. Look at me, I can't unhook my bra.
I'd gladly fall down dead, if only I knew how.
On the whole though, I feel good. Of course I feel good. I haven't gone to some shit-sucking, soul-crushing, brain-macerating, time-wasting job for two whole months. And now it's time to pay. I don't want to spend a lot of money on death when I can spend it on life—more fun. (What Goethe didn't say on his death-bed, but what he was probably thinking.) Licht or Lust. Whatever. More sounds good to me. A little more? Yes, please.
Well, suffice to say, I didn't go buy a pistol, not even a small one, and so I still have $200. And no way out except miracle or smash.
I do feel bad when I wake up. I've been sleeping not badly. Warmish but no hot flashes, and so only the painful shoulder to cosset. And haven't I just had wonderful dreams. Cats & lovers. Young lovers (the young "French" feller telling me I looked better than Emmy Lou Harris must have turned my jowly head!) & great fat fluffy cats. My heart.
BM Starbuck's 1/27/01
The Sweet Use of Present Adversity
Namely my poverty, is that I can extract maximum satisfaction from small boons. E.G.? Today I broke into my last $200 & went to buy what I most needed: shampoo, t.p. & cake—& would you believe, they were all on sale. It made me feel that things might be going my way, however briefly.
And with my hair slicked back & the red lipstick on, I got men staring at me. Oh & then Lee gives me my coffee free. But I didn't win the lotto. Also, mom didn't call, which meant I didn't have to prevaricate. I bought a scratch ticket; I hope my luck doesn't peter out (the way it usually does).
A nice walk on a dark Sunday. Heavy cloud cover unraveling in the west like one of my old gray sweaters. And the sun lighting the top stories of the houses in a way that seems (huff puff) almost supernatural. Actually, the bit of lighted cloud in the southwest as I came down Federal looked like lace on an ancient ball gown.
And then I got my money & found everything on sale.
All quiet—half quiet—on Broadway because all the fools were home or in bars watching the Stupor Bowl. Cold though & I just manage to avoid Kay in an ugly hat: she doesn't look around when she walks.
I also gave a crazy guy a bum steer. I bet he called me a bitch when he found out. Well, too bad, that's what he gets. (And what do I get?)
BM Starbuck's 1/28/01
posted by K. E. Ellingson at 4:04 PM
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