Friday, July 21, 2006

I Don't Need A Secret Handshake.

Sometimes we make things harder than they have to be, and pushiness begets pushiness as so many other negative things call for the equally negative in neat pairs - a lack of tact and a lack of acceptance, subtlety, naivete and snobbery.

I'm saying this because I wouldn't have blamed you -- didn't for a long time, but it's worn on me. I feel like a record that's been left on its turntable for years, the same song digging deeper and deeper, sounding worse with each repetition.

"It's true, what can you do?"

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

You Have To Appreciate That, At Least.

During my lunch hour, two little girls walking in front of me were discussing how scary Jurassic Park is. It had me thinking about how when I had first seen it, during all the dinosaur parts, it was hard for me to sympathize with the people getting eaten. I kept thinking, 'Sure, you're getting killed, but you're getting killed by a DINOSAUR.'

Oldest And Dearest.

Everyone's pissed at you except __ and __, if you can believe it, he said, and I guess I only am because you never answer the phone and you're probably staring at the wall, waiting for me to finish.

Some people know you better than you want them to.

I bet you woke up at ten today and spent like an hour getting dressed. You probably changed clothes atleast three times.


And you're scared to talk to us because you're so... I don't know what.


And don't say "crazy." You're so avoidant. Just call me back. We're only mad because we love and miss you and you need to start returning phonecalls.

Friday, July 14, 2006


Sometimes I wonder if the world would be a better place if human beings derived as much pleasure from going slowly as they do from going quickly.

Probably not...

Thursday, July 13, 2006

Fine, Thank You.

1. If I don't know you well I answer the question of how I am with fine, thank you. Once I know you well, I drop the thank you. Backwards, or at least half-rude, assuming you aren't actually interested is right or at least an acceptable theory, ("'how are you' is a greeting, not a question.") but I need to remember to be polite.

2. My friend used to answer completely honestly, every time. I'd ask her and she'd shake her brown hair -- Oh, really bad. Something about it made me smile later, remembering, no matter how tragic the following story, no matter the strife my poor friend had encountered at the grocery store just ten minutes before I saw her, that honesty was endearing, as was the assumption that I was interested.

3. I was, usually.

4. She still does this, but has a much happier life.

Saturday, July 8, 2006

I Wonder, Sometimes. I Wander, Too.

Yesterday I spent my lunch hour drinking Lapsang Souchong tea in the cafe on 4th ave reading One More for the Road, listening to a boy who was [wearing a sweatshirt that said 'Nintendo'] talking about Barthes' Death of the Author, four more hours at work, and a few moments staring at the window, looking at a man look at his reflection in the window while pushing his hair behind his ears and drinking a small bottle of Hustler's finest drinking water.

I suggested the sales towers to him and sold two containers of flavored lubricant, and a blow-up doll for his friends.

It was a talking Blow Up Sheep Doll.