red way red way my naaame is

Fri|03.08

Selling a bunch of books or CDs feels like buying a used car and just accepting whatever the guy tells me it's worth. I agree to the price and then spend the rest of the day feeling ripped off, and like I should've brought a friend with me who knows the correct price of used books. There's no magic priceboard in the sky. There should be, maybe. Value varies so, person to person. YES I AM FULL OF PITHY SAYINGS SUCH AS THIS!!! HOLD ON! THERE IS MOOORE!

I can get sad thinking about the books and music I used to have and don't anymore, but today and yesterday I was a bit exuberant THATS RIGHT EXUBERANT! about getting rid of old books, books I used to love but don't anymore or books I've never read but thought I should. It felt good to carry them around with me, set them on the counter, and let go. But then half of them were not what the bookstore wanted so the letting go thing was premature. Oops. I kind of want to sell everything. EVERYTHING. Except for maybe 33 things, determined at random. Okay, I'll never really do that.

I left my old stuffed animals behind when I moved to a different apartment at 20, I left them sitting in an old armchair in the rain, abandoned dolphin (won him at a ring toss at Kennywood when I was 17 and visiting my sister), Spidey, Fluffy, and some others I don't remember the names of right now. They stared at me as I rode away. I still feel it right in that place where I feel things when I remember that. I'm sorry little stuffed animals. I should've either held onto you, or donated you to someplace, instead of leaving you behind, wet and homeless. I suck sometimes. Now you're rotting in landfill, wondering what you could've done to me that I would just throw you away. CRYING NOW

After depositing enough money to cover rent, I headed to Trader Joe's for my favorite type Luna bar (Sweet Dreams) and a sixer of Hansen's diet sodiepop (sweetened with Splenda bless their hearts). Trader Joe's is the only place I've seen these flavors (flavours for my favourite Canadian readers) of thingies.

So. I have six ones and one Sacajawea gold-like coin dollar, two quarters, and three dimes. Also a penny, but that didn't come into play. I would leave it out entirely but I'm not like that. That's not my way, my style, my oofra.

So I went into the cash only/not many items line (yes, I'm going to take you through this step by step! this is my tortuous end-of-the-week entry!) and if you're adding this up cash-wise you'll realize I also had Pirate's Booty. Yaaarrrrr.

The cashiers are like, super-fast and fabulous, like they're CAREER cashiers even though they're probably not, but I appreciate a good cashier. That's what I was like back in the day. Back in the Bradlees day.

My total, she came to 7.97 and I only had 7.80. It was horrifying! I'm sure I had a stricken look upon me face. The cashier, who had tapped in the prices and thrown things into a bag so quickly that it was ASTOUNDING, and also had found time to be very cute, told me the total and I told him my own personal total and was about to say, "Take out
a--" when he said, in faux Brooklynese, "Don' WUH ree-a BOW-dit. I'll take the 17 cent blow."

He said it so tough-guy sweet. I have no idea how to end this story. Other than it was touching, this kid, fronting me 17 cents. Cavalier. Gentleman. Bunnyboy.

please insert an audio compact disc

Thurs|03.07

I have nothing to say today.

Wed|03.06

The phone rang this morning and it hardly ever does that and I, just for the hell of it, answered. NEVER DO THAT! Especially before work. No one you want to talk to calls before you've left for work. I don't feel like finishing this story. Sorry. Here's a cookie. Okay, not really.

SUUUNBEEEeemmss Are NOoOThing liIkeE MeeE

Tues|03.05

I'm supposed to vote today and I know that I KNOW THAT! but I've had the "LALALA" voice in my head for months now whenever someone in my general vicinity tries to detail current events. If I pay attention my head will explode and no one wants that. Well that's not completely true, some people want that. But still. No. NONONO I'm not hearrrring you. LALALALA. So I don't know what's up and I'm not sure I'm going to vote. My mother would be horrified. I hope she doesn't read this. Sorry Mom! I remember when you took me into the voting booth with you, back when they had red velvet curtains, or that's what they were in my head, and I helped you pull that lever thing that made the curtains close, and if I poked my head under the booth I could see the feet of all those voters, feet feet feet.

It matters to vote, was her message, and I've always agreed. In my hometown the school budget was up for a vote every year and never passed, so wait--isn't the message that it DIDN'T matter? Everyone I knew was voting FOR the budget, yet it never passed the first time. Who were these cranks who were robbing me of mine? Bastards. One year it didn't pass before the school year started, so there were no buses, and we'd catch a ride where we could, usually arriving at school an hour earlier than we needed to be there. So we'd go across the street to Friendly's and spend our lunch money on hot chocolate and wink at truck drivers, and I see now how my money habits developed. SO. No vote for me. I can't believe you've read this far.

It matters to vote, was her message, and I've always agreed. That's the small war going on in me mind today. I don't WANT to vote. Fuck you America, fuck you fuck you FUCK YOU REPUBLICANS WITH YOUR PRIMARY AND GAVIN NEWSOM WITH YOUR JAIL THE HOMELESS SCHTICK and and and I'm not even sure where I go now. The firehouse? Oh MAN I'm gonna vote aren't I. AREN'T I!!! You bastards. OH NO screw that I ain't voting. I wanted to end it with yes to please you but I'm not going to. Okay maybe I will.

tow AmkerKKin KidS DOIng THe beSST thEY CaN

Mon|03.04

Today! On the bus! Well. I was on a crowded 21 Hayes, got aboard on 8th Street. More detail than you needed? Okay, that happens. Well, I sat down because there was a seat? And so I sat down! I was near the front, but not in THE front, not in one of the three-seaters that face each other. Row back from that. And this guy squeezes in between two people on one of the three-seaters, and the guy closest to me makes a face like, "Okay, this is unbearable, but not enough to actually get up and stand or sit somewhere else," so the look passes over his face and then you see him accept it.

Across from the new guy are three women, but I'm only going to tell you about two of them. One on the end closest to me is a 20-something clean-looking blonde in a crisp white blouse, blah blah blah, very attractive and I immediately dislike her due to my own personal prejudices. Next to her is this woman in her 50s or so, and her phone is going off in her purse, and she pulls out the phone but can't figure out how to answer it, so it keeps going off while she pushes buttons and so forth. After a while she figures it out. She has a great voice. She's from somewhere that's not North America. No trace of the "HOW DO I ANSWER THIS DAMN PHONE???" stress in her voice. When she hangs up? The guy who squeezed into the seat between two people? Starts talking to her, asking her where she's from, and she's from New Zealand it turns out, and then he asks her about a college there and he's studying tree diseases, and she studied forestry there, seeeee, and GET THIS he totally gets her to write her phone number down for him. So he can call her to talk about this college in New Zealand. Um, okay. I can only hope she wrote down an old voice mail or the number to the Albion or something.

Because this guy, the way he talks, he's totally mental, you can see that. Hear it, whatever. He's going on and on about the EPA and how they would never give him a grant and New Zealand is his only hope because he KNOWS what's wrong with the trees and no one will listen to him but they definitely will in New Zealand, and does she know who he should contact? No, she doesn't. She seems to regret not knowing who he should contact. I'm trying to figure out whether she's being polite or actually cares, I don't see how she could. I really wonder if she gave him her real number.

And now the blonde who I'd taken an instant dislike to is smirking out the window with me, we make eye contact and grin at each other, and I like her now because we're bonding over our tree guy reaction. He won't shut up. It's really early in the morning and HE WILL NOT SHUT UP! Shut up! My brain screams at him. So I'm three minutes late and I miss the meeting which is why I had to come in so early in the first place. Because of these three minutes. The end. Did you read this far??? You did???? Why? You'll never get that time back.

tURnn ARounD BrIGkHT EyeyeSS

Thurs|02.28

Dooby dooby dooby. Can't get that song out of my head, and it's just those two lines: "Turn around bright eyes (every now and then I fall apart!)"

Oy. It's been days now.

It's "nice" out. I'm supposed to "like" this weather. Instead it makes me uncomfortable. It's bright, it's warm, I need a cave.

THE END

Don't forget to tip your waitress.