random notes

-i wish the street creeps would come up with a new euphemism, "chocolate" isn't cutting it anymore. next time i get catcalled, or stopped, or harassed, if the guy says, "hey, fresh loam around the roots of a newly planted tree," i might marry him.

-revelation: at some point, i'll reach an age of maturity & will no longer be able to bear children. given as much, why should i have to wear the spanx and get the botox and fret when a man doesn't respond to my womanly wiles (as if i have them)? the mens are the ones who can continue to reproduce well into old age. shouldn't they be trying to win young females over? someone, explain the reason for this. (for the record. i don't to either. the spanx or the botox. though i'm in deep consideration regarding the spanx).

-she always said, "things done by halves are never done right" and now i can't do anything by halves anymore and every task takes a ridiculous amount of time.

-you say love, i say guilt, let's call the whole thing off.

-everything happens during the day. this place is loud. buzz saws and garbage trucks and those kids next door with the loudest dog that ever was and car alarms and vacuums and some neighbor hammering nails into the wall, or something. and yet, i always forget and think it would be lovely to spend a day at home.

-well, look at that lovely fu manchu. and j. cusak looks like the smelly kid you forced to sit in the backseat.

-in retrospect, i've always felt this way. with everything in my line of sight a little dim at the corners, a little too hard to bear, a little too much to motivate. like my brain is layered as the heavens and earth and hell and i'm always in one or the other but never the middle.

-i make a list. it's a sad list. an exploration of a slow descent.

-the sun comes out around 11:30. remember for future reference.

-she says, the thing about him is that you look at him and you think, oh, what a nice looking boy. and then you look into his eyes and you realize, no actually, that's a man. and i say, yes, definitely. he would destroy you and you'd love every minute of it. face of boy. eyes of man. win-win situation.

-the problem with my irregular streaks of genius is that i never execute them.

-and i can always talk myself out of taking the bus. even when it rains.

-space makes me feel small. it makes me miss the future i'll never get to see.

-suddenly, i enjoy writing things that can be read backwards or forewords, little literary palindromes--though irregular. not the words themselves but the story they create.

-and by the way i'm done with writing advice. do it or don't. the end.

-on the one hand, it's only $60. on the other hand, it's $60.

-sometimes i walk into a church and i forget how much i miss being inside one. but churches are different when they are almost empty, except for us, a couple curious souls critiquing the architecture and one old man in a pew, his head bent in prayer and maybe, if you look closely you can see a few tears. maybe at the scenes running along the walls, the stations of the cross on bronze plates, lest we ever forget what it is to suffer.