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2005-06-04 || 10:31 p.m. || update, or: michael made me move my horse collection from the kitchen shelf today. || we looked for couches today but had no luck. m bought a present for my sister. i had a conversation with the owner of a thrift store who fell out of his chair and hurt his back. the chair crumbled into metal pieces while he was sitting on it. to show the chair who's boss, he moved to an easy chair that was for sale. he was reading a winnie the pooh book, large print, and spent a long time contemplating the back cover. my tonsils are as big as chicken nuggets, but i have resumed going out-of-doors and walking several blocks at a time. last night i drank three beers and the worst whisky and ginger ale ever. michael leon will give me his bicycle when he leaves, a lovely sky blue lady bike named the 'free spirit,' and i made him promise to autograph it before he hands it over. i would like it to read 'the free spirit of michael leon.' tonight we went to an art opening in an otherwise frightfully haunty three-story warehouse. we stood on the top floor, our backs to the wall, and i marvelled at all the people i don't know. i didn't know a soul. it is an uncomfortable feeling. when we walked i was conscious of my posture, taking care to stand very straight with my head held high, for i am a tall lady and my fear and shyness manifest in the darndest physical ways. must get black boots? must dress like a literary character? must cut my hair into painful messy angles? must lose forty pounds? must resolve to hold head high and not change a thing and carry a small brass bell to ring to remind myself i am here. also: not to continually talk about the cat, but she has been the nicest she's ever ever been in the 5 (?) years i've had her. 1. i know i am suffering minor psychological stress when i obsess about the cat, and in the past few days i have caught myself in scenarios that scream crazy cat lady (see: pulling the high chair next to the sink so that she may sit with me when i wash dishes. see: leaving the door open and calling to the cat when taking a shower in hopes she will wait just outside the tub. she went so far as to teeter along the edge, safe and dry between shower curtain liner and s. curtain, and i can't say i wasn't tickled while shampooing.). 2. i honestly hate going out, especially at night, because i worry she will miss me and stand in the middle of the living room to yowl. 3. i have no qualms about waking m up at night when i hear her somewhere else in the apartment, crying. i call to her until she jumps up on the bed, pads around on my legs and back, and perches on the window sill to chew on the mini-blinds. i have been having crazy religious imagery dreams lately. our lady of fatima and paint peeling and stigmata. i still miss my california friends so unspeakably much i am unable to call them. i keep imagining the longest letter. tonight i drafted the first three lines of a letter to you, owen; i was thinking how i need to bring my typewriter(s) up from the basement closet tomorrow to find a good spot on the kitchen table. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |