Good conversation tonight with realitylost, pbd, and then bruisedhips and vegemitelover Wide ranging and thoughtful talk, always pleasant.

Susie shared a food with me which was good also; half orders of restaurant food are perfect for me now.

I managed to get a really good spit take out of Hils; I was proud. Apparently this is a frequent problem for her, though.

Two ladies were working the bar at D’s tonight, one in her sixties and the other in her late forties. They both have multiple jobs and one of them cares for aged relatives as well as for her own children. Welcome to the New Economy. I feel really bad for them.

This is in contrast to the Super-Rich around here, whom I experienced today in full force. Usually I don’t notice these people because my neighborhood isn’t like that, nor are the places I hang out. But today I was at a Starbucks, and later at a shopping center, and wow. They are really annoying. They’re all perfect physically, many of them rebuilt in various ways, and they are oiled up with so much unnecessary wealth that they practically drip it: Italian suit, salon tan, perfect hair, resonant baritone voice rented from sound stage, etc. They’re all very plastic and high-maintenance. I understand now why bruisedhips doesn’t want to raise Owen around here. It wasn’t like that when I was a kid. Blurf.

I hate the end of the evening when everyone goes home. I just want to talk all night.

Brazil Detains U.S. Crew Over Gesture

Something special in the air.

substitute How are you?
eyeteeth Yesterday I shorted out the lights on the second floor and set fire to my sock.
substitute Yikes.
eyeteeth I wasn’t wearing the sock at the time, at least.
substitute Bonus.

This guy needs to talk to vegemitelover about how to achieve his hairstyle aims. He was aiming for “cool Jack White indie fucker” but got “orange county mortgage broker who cheats on his girlfriend” instead.

The office of the psychotherapist I visited this morning is in one of those medical/service complexes, quite near my house. As an odd bit of coincidence, it’s next door to the pediatric group I went to as a child. The pediatricians have moved since I was their patient, but it’s the same group.

This caused a combination flashback/funny as I walked along the line of doors to mine this morning. As when I was a kid, there was a “WELL PATIENTS” door and a “SICK PATIENTS” door, to avoid mixing up kids who were infected and otherwise. They’ve since added a third door, marked “RASH PATIENTS”.

I vividly remember the different colored doors, and the odd feeling as a child when I had to wait in the “sick” waiting room. I guess now they’ve also made a category for those children who are full of spitfire and thunder, ready to buckle their swashes and take on the whole fookin’ British Navy me hearties, yes, for the RASH PATIENTS who dare to.. ?

I minced delicately down to the next office, where unhappy adults consider their situations for an hourly fee.

My head is now slightly smaller.

With luck, within a few months it will be tiny.

last time around again as same as this worrying at the knot never unties it, someone brought me gifts but left banging around in here hoping there’s more than this water that tastes like metal, chest tight and mouth dry for hours wondering what hit him it’s better than just being numb but that’s a tough call I think she had something to say but couldn’t last time around again as same as this running through thoughts that oughtn’t be thought press head on the sink it feels cool, feed the animal she doesn’t care about your issues didn’t think the car got that bad a tap but better check it out perhaps i should just be quiet but my own noise is all i’ve got, drawn to the worst possible ideas like they were sugar, last time around again as same as this making an unattractive display but not as bad as it could be, sure we’re all friends here I have it about half done take a whack at it, you know you never wanted to spend time one on one with me anyway, everything clear enough in retrospect but now we’re too far in, last time around again as same as this

I just realized who this guy is that H and B ran into at the swap meet, and who raved at them about strange things.

He’s the nutball who used to work at the Apollo Bookstore years ago when it was on Newport behind Coast Music at 18th. He often dressed in a similar costume, but even more extreme. Frequently he would be in a full Scots Guards uniform from the 19th century, or a WWI soldier’s uniform, while on duty at the book store. At the tender age of 14 or so I was constantly lectured by him on the joys of being a “scotsman”, and of military reenactment, and how it was manly to wear a kilt, etc.

This has to be the same guy, just aged appropriately. Mustache is now gray but I’d recognize the manic grin and the tamoshanter anywhere.

He bought it and he said we had to use it, so everyone just lied from then on. It’s not enough to like the guy, I’d have to appreciate his music and that’s just too much. I’ll be talking to myself a lot today. Why anyone would want to deal with the front end I have no idea.

It’s not a competition, and I agree with her about that. We’ve all just got our own troubles. I did my best to be easy on the guy but he was obviously lying. He shot himself; there wasn’t any indication of trouble beforehand, or any treatment, or anything. That, my friend, is a seriously dangerous recipe. Otherwise, we’d just be hanging out behind the softball field experiencing the cusp of adulthood.

Rock ‘n’ roll has nothing on The Kreutzer Sonata. I can’t believe she doesn’t know what a library is. Here’s a fishbonker for someone in the scene.

We return again to the theme of the eternal return.