Sunday, September 27, 2009
Apples
We have the best, at Capella right now. Local Liberty apples, crisp and white and tart. I wait all year for these apples.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Familiars
I live with omens. Cats, the four of them. Black, and white. Black and white. And gray. Not mine, but mine nonetheless.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Lips and Hunting
I've been mum, lately. There's not a good reason. Or at least, what reason there may be is vague and unclear, even to me. And something that cannot be described cannot be good-so the reason isn't, either.
The degree to which that statement is absurd is in direct proportion to the degree to which it is arbitrary. It's true. I can measure it. Think about that the next time you're right about something.
So I've been off. A little. It is unfortunate. And I've had things to say, too-I had a whole bit about race going in my head the other day, and I've left out all my familial vacation stories. Which are downright Shakespearean, wouldn't you know. But I'm not feeling up to being raw and unburdensome or even articulate. Instead...
I have a purse. It's a messenger bag, whatever. It's a fucking purse. I carry all sorts of crap I might use in it. Something I never thought I'd do (I have a tendency to lose things. Why I don't wear a hat*). So it's a purse, I carry it around. And tonight I had to switch over, one version (messenger bag) to another (a more standard, conventional backpack). Don't ask me why. There's not a good reason. But I thought, as I maneuvered through my personal paraphernalia, that it might be revealing to let you know what I feel like I should keep with me. So...this is my inventory.
A bike pump. Nice one, compact with a gauge. It'll fill a tire in less than two minutes. I love it.
A bicycle tire iron. Yellow, plastic. It was free at my bike kitchen.
A bicycle multi-tool. Allen wrenches and such. I think I traded a hobo for this one.
Three pens, two ballpoint, one large sharpie. Generic felt tip, really. I'm sure "sharpie"'s a brand name.
A pound and a half of dried pineapple rings covered in chili pepper. No, they came that way. Really.
A box knife, from work.
Three golf balls (Two Dunlop, one Top Elite) in a plastic, ziploc™ bag.
A toothbrush (some hippy brand from work)
Toothpaste (likewise)
A tupperware container w/ oatmeal soap and a washcloth in it.
My glasses case, containing my glass-cleaning cloth. And a chillum.
A sample bag from work containing two tampons and one pad.
Lifesavers, about 2/3 of a roll of wintergreen.
Two amtrak stubs.
A condom.
Four quarters.
A shamwow.
A glass jar with a cork top that originally was attached to something else. The jar, not the cork. Though I imagine the cork came from an oak, originally. So it was also attached to something else.
A lighter. It's got a pheasant on it. The pheasant's name is Earl.
Chain oil.
My dental insurance card.
A tube of Dr. Haushka's Lipstick, Allegro color.
A bottle of asprin.
Two band-aids.
Electrical tape.
A rock (I think it's obsidian, actually).
Cuticle nippers (I love these things. I regret the portion of my life I lived without knowing they existed).
A nickle.
Two dimes.
Three keys I don't know the provenance of. One looks like it's for a bike lock I don't have.
A spare tube for my bike. This one has one of those damn european valves on it, which makes it useless to me. Fuck. I just noticed this.
Some ginger, once fresh, now dessicated and sad. Gotta be careful, handling ginger. It's a rhizome, have to treat it delicately. Gingerly, even.
*Also, I have a gigantic head.
The degree to which that statement is absurd is in direct proportion to the degree to which it is arbitrary. It's true. I can measure it. Think about that the next time you're right about something.
So I've been off. A little. It is unfortunate. And I've had things to say, too-I had a whole bit about race going in my head the other day, and I've left out all my familial vacation stories. Which are downright Shakespearean, wouldn't you know. But I'm not feeling up to being raw and unburdensome or even articulate. Instead...
I have a purse. It's a messenger bag, whatever. It's a fucking purse. I carry all sorts of crap I might use in it. Something I never thought I'd do (I have a tendency to lose things. Why I don't wear a hat*). So it's a purse, I carry it around. And tonight I had to switch over, one version (messenger bag) to another (a more standard, conventional backpack). Don't ask me why. There's not a good reason. But I thought, as I maneuvered through my personal paraphernalia, that it might be revealing to let you know what I feel like I should keep with me. So...this is my inventory.
A bike pump. Nice one, compact with a gauge. It'll fill a tire in less than two minutes. I love it.
A bicycle tire iron. Yellow, plastic. It was free at my bike kitchen.
A bicycle multi-tool. Allen wrenches and such. I think I traded a hobo for this one.
Three pens, two ballpoint, one large sharpie. Generic felt tip, really. I'm sure "sharpie"'s a brand name.
A pound and a half of dried pineapple rings covered in chili pepper. No, they came that way. Really.
A box knife, from work.
Three golf balls (Two Dunlop, one Top Elite) in a plastic, ziploc™ bag.
A toothbrush (some hippy brand from work)
Toothpaste (likewise)
A tupperware container w/ oatmeal soap and a washcloth in it.
My glasses case, containing my glass-cleaning cloth. And a chillum.
A sample bag from work containing two tampons and one pad.
Lifesavers, about 2/3 of a roll of wintergreen.
Two amtrak stubs.
A condom.
Four quarters.
A shamwow.
A glass jar with a cork top that originally was attached to something else. The jar, not the cork. Though I imagine the cork came from an oak, originally. So it was also attached to something else.
A lighter. It's got a pheasant on it. The pheasant's name is Earl.
Chain oil.
My dental insurance card.
A tube of Dr. Haushka's Lipstick, Allegro color.
A bottle of asprin.
Two band-aids.
Electrical tape.
A rock (I think it's obsidian, actually).
Cuticle nippers (I love these things. I regret the portion of my life I lived without knowing they existed).
A nickle.
Two dimes.
Three keys I don't know the provenance of. One looks like it's for a bike lock I don't have.
A spare tube for my bike. This one has one of those damn european valves on it, which makes it useless to me. Fuck. I just noticed this.
Some ginger, once fresh, now dessicated and sad. Gotta be careful, handling ginger. It's a rhizome, have to treat it delicately. Gingerly, even.
*Also, I have a gigantic head.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Nulhomme
As I cleaned the house last night, did the dishes this morning...I felt very adult. Not just because I was doing it, but because I wanted to. It's not a chore, not outside myself. It's part of my rhythm. Which is how it should be-everyone gets to do whatever they want, me included. I'm just glad that I've gotten to the point where the things that are good for me are the things that I want. Some of them, anyway.
This is an obfuscation, by the way. Or a diversion, maybe. I'm back from a long way away, worn out from sales tax and driving and family. It was good, very good. Give me a minute-I'll tell you about it later.
This is an obfuscation, by the way. Or a diversion, maybe. I'm back from a long way away, worn out from sales tax and driving and family. It was good, very good. Give me a minute-I'll tell you about it later.
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