Friday, August 31, 2012

allez, allez

more chronologically-cattywampus ballyhoo, 29-31 August 2012.

-highway 101, coloring unaltered.
-rocks on me.
-seattle under the bluish moon.
-the dead SEAL. SEAL. thank you.
-bacon crack at cupcake royale! "what a wonderful idea!" I babbled blearily. the guy behind the counter smiled politely.
-herons at Rialto Beach. the ocean? SEXY.
-da butt, Fremont Antique Mall.
-sunrise over seattle.
-I mean, fucking jesus. this town's too damn pretty for its own good.
-the northwesternmost Lower 48 corner of the Pacific Ocean, baby. I stood in it up to my knees, and then it decided it wanted to splash higher.
-da wood.

not every day can be utterly fluid and filled with giddy novelty. nevertheless, the aftermath kinda sucks. yesterday was magical, today is merely okay. joy often results in the most painful of hangovers.

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

bilateral candle wickage

-there's a bee trap on the roof deck. what a fascinating, terrible invention! the few live bees were desperately trying to avoid the layer of their dead brethren.
-entropy. i wound the toy around her tail. she's not too impressed with me.
-if mattresses could talk... no, bad idea. 11th and Olive as of last night.
-flattering.

there is a soup from South Africa, "snysels": make your own very thin whole wheat pasta, then cook it in boiling cinnamony milk until it floats. serve with nutmeg and stuff.

Sunday, August 26, 2012

that's my funday

August 2012, you keep blowin' my mind.

do you ever... for lack of a (much) better term, think in the equivalent of status updates? reduce your observations to quippy one-liners? keep your thoughts artfully succinct? pretend that everything you come up with is fucking hilarious, or at the very least brilliant?
me neither.

but IF I DID, it would involve the details of this, and possibly even every other, random day:

SUNDAY 26 AUGUST 2012:
-girl on bus, fluffy 50s skirt, button-down shirt, red Keds. I smile at her because she is both a human being and, frankly, cute. she looks away. she must be from here.
-at least 20 varieties of heirloom tomatoes at the west seattle farmer's market. heirloom tomatoes are fucking sexy! the booth I especially liked had handwritten, florid descriptions of each varietal, and it was presided over by a glassy-eyed, bearded, "how's it goin'?" fellow. the predictability of this was quite comforting.
-midway through my first client of the day, my hand starts spasming. I fucked up my thumb last week and now both wrists are involved. time for the elbow. I mostly use my forearm; my elbows could cut glass. thankfully, their eyes are closed. they don't see me trying to flex my fingers between strokes. all the while, some soothing acoustic music that is fucking repetitive and drones on and on plays. apparently it is a nice day outside. I wouldn't know.
-I am reminded that I have never, EVER, worked in a place with actual fucking windows. who thought that was a brilliant idea?
-earl grey tea, 8 packets of Splenda, enough cream to turn it nearly white, and being told by a young mustached man to "have a good day, miss." nnggh. I mean, bless your heart.
-whoever was on the bus before me ate A LOT of unshelled sunflower seeds.
-the mouth-breathing (she actually WAS, I'm not being an asshole; she probably had a horrid sinus infection or something) girl who just STOPPED in front of me two different times at the store. the second time was abrupt enough that I actually stumbled.
-the loud family and spacemen 3 on my headphones.
-being under the flight path to sea-tac. if you fly into seattle, you fly over my lair. look for the radio towers. I've heard three jets in the last 5 minutes. hundreds of human stories, thousands of feet high.
-I went to pike place at 9am today; I was waiting for my 2nd bus. the sidewalks were BUSY! who fucking knew? a bunch of jetlagged tourists, pretending it's midday? donut peaches are fucking adorable. I got in several people's photographs. went to the newsstand and read the Proust Questionnaire in the back of Vanity Fair. sunlight glinted off office towers. I could even hear seagulls.
-now: a breeze moves leaves over streetlamps. the world is a poor man's strobe light. and I'm in a far less pissy mood than I was two hours ago.
*
-the view from my commute. this rivals Turnagain Arm for my favorite road in the world.
-shit photo, yes; but THIS COAT IS AMAZING. it's been at this antique place for months. it's an I. Magnin drapey wool thing with real live foxy things on the collar! it's gorgeous! they want, I think, $365 for it. every time I go to this place I make sure this goddamn coat is still here, and then I caress it reverently.
fuck PETA.
-industrial giraffes!
-mo' betta the jetta, complete with wee bungee cords on her non-grill. and a plastic lei from Oahu on her mirror. and a coating of sap and pollen. i am both relieved and sad to not have her at my immediate disposal.
-the ubiquitous tombs.

"you know what crazy people like most? they like to make other people crazy."
-Robert Stone

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

tortillas, margarine, ibuprofen, nag champa

it is with great glee that I cancelled my auto insurance yesterday. I'm giving the car an indefinite break. I've been wanting to do this for years, but working hostile hours and commuting to far-flung jobs prohibited that. now? I work days, it's faster on the bus, and I get to prelude every outing with a luscious stroll!

why the FUCK didn't I do this sooner?

-6th and pike.
-weeds, 11th and Howell. it was much prettier in person, sun shining through fluff. the photo version looks like one of those crappy "art pieces" you buy at Pier 1.

The Glamour Magazine Party Book (published 1965) lists these as examples of good party menus:

chicken consommé
crab meat au gratin
roast mutton chops
tomatoes stuffed with peas
green salad + avocado and grapefruit
crème brûlée

or!

bouquet of shrimp on lettuce + herbed mayonnaise
clear turtle soup
roast chicken + string beans
green salad + Camembert
souffle Grand Marnier

serve crackers with the soup, bread throughout the meal, and have bowls of nuts handily placed near the snifters of complimentary cigarettes!

Friday, August 17, 2012

she certainly can can-can.

-from the roof, just now.
-earlier today. I am fucking filthy in this photograph. there is occasionally great pleasure in being knowingly foul. my skin tasted like salt. I checked.
-more rooftivity. accompaniments: yo la tengo, engineers, brian eno. I'm drinking whiskey and ginger ale out of a brandy snifter. there aren't even any clouds in the sky to turn pink once the sun sets; the radio towers directly behind me are starting to blink, and birds are starting to wake up and make noise.

heat changes the rhythm. I love it. I am sunburned as fuck right now because I'm storing up for the winter. I will think about this lackadaisical bare-skinned freckly summer of 2012 when it's relentlessly grey and throat-slashingly vile, circa January 2013.

Thursday, August 16, 2012

75 degrees at 2350

-wee froglet, Tumwater.
-the ladies, warm.
-mint julep and gun table, 9 million. IT HIT THE SPOT.
-Madison Beach: it's grassy!

the weather has slowed everyone's synapses. "this has been a good summer" I commented lazily. "yeah" the person I was speaking to replied.

"I realized that she was exactly what I wanted in a woman: sparkling eyes, springy hindquarters, the ability to save her own life." Matthew Klam

Saturday, August 11, 2012

smiling at the majorettes...

...smoking Winston cigarettes...

the cool thing about massage? I can't be in my own head. I can't be a snot-nosed pissant, or worrying about bullshit, or thinking about what I'm gonna eat later. I mean, I still DO these things, but for mere nanoseconds instead of for, say, an entire day. it is impossible to give a proper massage without paying total and complete attention to the person on the table. and I have to think good thoughts and kind vibes, because it's obvious when I don't.
I love it!
"woah" said my last client today. "you are much stronger than you look."

-tombs in the window-trough. she's had a few really good days.
-20th Century Man at Vermillion. I'm fucking impressed, sir!

"what would you do with a time machine?" my friend asked me after the show.
"probably nothing" I said (dialogue is paraphrased). "otherwise I wouldn't be here right now, having this conversation."
but then I started thinking: I'd pause before I said something scurrilous and unnecessary. I'd go hit on someone I fancied instead of skulking weirdly in the background. I'd hand myself a tissue right before I had a sneezing fit on the bus. other than that...? I feel like I'm already pretty good about telling people I love them, and I've already lived an inconveniently honest life, and killing Hitler would just make me a murderer of another human being, no matter how reprehensible he was.

...it was an awesome show. I am lucky to know some incredibly fucking great people.

Thursday, August 9, 2012

what goes on

my life continues on its discombobulating caprice-jaunt... what the fuck? I went from no stimulus to almost too much. I love it. I'm greedy for it. I need to make up for lost time.

-Capitol Hill.
-a poster surrounded by a white wall.
-hecatumor, the troglodyte cat.
-I don't remember taking this photograph.
-fondue! it was awesome!
-from the roof deck.
-a marshmallow that was toasted for me, aka "life is good."
-oddfellow's.
-turning 180 degrees.
-somewhere on the hill.

"in Zen Buddhism a master was once asked what was the most valuable thing in the world, and the master answered that a dead cat was, because no one could put a price on it." J D Salinger

Saturday, August 4, 2012

can you dig it? YES I CAN.

I'm writing this from the happy park near my lair, the one with hospitable grass. it's a gorgeous Saturday, 1130am, 80 degrees, and there is only one other human here. I'm the only one sprawled messily on the lawn.
seems like a waste....
dragonflies cast shadows.

-Pike Street.
-from the reservoir tower at Volunteer Park.
-the temptress, temporarily playing nice.
-artichoke in bloom! lurid as fuck! who knew?
-Scott Lake.
-cheap whiskey in a mason jar. no complaints.