(no subject)
Oct. 8th, 2001 09:23 amit's snowing here! motherfuckers.
last night the b-side with jackie, sharon, clay, christa, jenny & i. clay who works at the d.a.'s office in manhattan. the d.a.'s office! astounding. we talked up a storm, pinched in the corner booth (with xtra-keen waitress jen, blonde spitfire) with jackie and clay pounding back tequila shots. eventually talk got round to kabul, to bombs, to fire and civilians and patriotism and all that rot: jackie talks about beirut, about fear. we all agree. clay's got the glint in his eye, though: he watched it happen. he's got the scar. boston, he keeps saying. boston is so much nicer. so untouched, he means. so unharmed.
before the bar we stopped in at s&j's to meet up and got to meet the second puppy, albert. so tiny and perfect and delicate: proportionate. so unlike edith. albert is nearly feline. edith is a ferret or a fox. edith jumps over my knee as we walk in, albert barely calf-high on his back legs, looking up with perfect little eyes, getting stepped on by spastic edith.
at the harvard platform this morning was a tall man singing in portuguese, slowly, with a guitar. sounding sad and unreachable. i almost cried. warmth coming back into my cheeks after the frozen wait for the bus, with my hood up against the wind. over and over the only word i could understand was mi corazon, corazon, corazon.
r wakes me occasionally with her grinding teeth. i can feel my jaw clenched, too. brave girl stayed home while we went to the bar, reading, writing letters. she leaves this morning with my green sweater. nobody predicts this cold, this biting wind. this unpreventable weather.
tonight will be the first frost.
otherwise i slept well. no dreams.
last night the b-side with jackie, sharon, clay, christa, jenny & i. clay who works at the d.a.'s office in manhattan. the d.a.'s office! astounding. we talked up a storm, pinched in the corner booth (with xtra-keen waitress jen, blonde spitfire) with jackie and clay pounding back tequila shots. eventually talk got round to kabul, to bombs, to fire and civilians and patriotism and all that rot: jackie talks about beirut, about fear. we all agree. clay's got the glint in his eye, though: he watched it happen. he's got the scar. boston, he keeps saying. boston is so much nicer. so untouched, he means. so unharmed.
before the bar we stopped in at s&j's to meet up and got to meet the second puppy, albert. so tiny and perfect and delicate: proportionate. so unlike edith. albert is nearly feline. edith is a ferret or a fox. edith jumps over my knee as we walk in, albert barely calf-high on his back legs, looking up with perfect little eyes, getting stepped on by spastic edith.
at the harvard platform this morning was a tall man singing in portuguese, slowly, with a guitar. sounding sad and unreachable. i almost cried. warmth coming back into my cheeks after the frozen wait for the bus, with my hood up against the wind. over and over the only word i could understand was mi corazon, corazon, corazon.
r wakes me occasionally with her grinding teeth. i can feel my jaw clenched, too. brave girl stayed home while we went to the bar, reading, writing letters. she leaves this morning with my green sweater. nobody predicts this cold, this biting wind. this unpreventable weather.
tonight will be the first frost.
otherwise i slept well. no dreams.
snow? snow?
Date: 2001-10-08 10:44 pm (UTC)i got incredibly depressed today, think it might be lack of sensuality in my life. i'm in search of a good taco...
met karl, like karl. we're both k-dawg. karl's girlfriend goes to smith. gwen's the name. blast gwen!
still sick...working on that one...got some robitussin, amen to the drugs.
it's jut coldish here, no snow, whatever's up with that. i knit myself a scarf tho', so my neck stays deleriously warm, all day long. would you care for a woolen scarf? it's $4 a scean, wonderfully cheap.
sean and ash are coming on saturday, spending the night and all that good stuff, i'm thinking i might get drunk? will i just get more sick? the rum is too good. pat bought me some gin as payment for his scarf. a very small bottle of gin. i'll drink it and think of you. as long as you stick a ruler in the ground and count the millimeters of snow, and remember how they used to close school for half an inch of powder.
i love you
WARNING
Date: 2001-10-09 05:54 am (UTC)tacos
Date: 2001-10-09 11:00 am (UTC)i'm going to go shower away my nasty cold. hot water should do more than clean. it should boil away colds. and cramps. and colds
warning explicated
Date: 2001-10-09 11:09 am (UTC)you said something like, "i think i suffer from a lack of sensuality....i'm looking for a good taco" in the same sentence!
i just wanted to let you know that a good taco will not fulfill any voids of sensuality that may be currently plaguing your life. just a warning.
Re: warning explicated
Date: 2001-10-09 11:17 am (UTC)yes, i'm aware that a yummy taco won't make me feel fulfilled, but something must....
Re: warning explicated
Date: 2001-10-09 11:21 am (UTC)cheese is maybe sensual. but that's pushing it. anything that is produced from cow phlegm isn't all that sensual, i think.
mmm. could go for a honkin' huge right now. oh portland, i miss it so...
Re: warning explicated
Date: 2001-10-09 11:26 am (UTC)i'm missing portland too, i'll be home for thanksgiving tho', i'm not sure it's enough time to get down town....
is it still snowing?
Re: warning explicated
Date: 2001-10-09 11:45 am (UTC)eh, not bad. yeah. could go for some cha^3.
no, not snowing anymore. it was really just flurries, it's not like it was sticking or anything. it wanted to rain and it was just too cold, so we got little swirling white bits instead.
Re: warning explicated
Date: 2001-10-09 12:17 pm (UTC)yeah, cha cha cha, sounds better than mariot crap we eat here.
offto class, i love you much