July 2005 July 3 2005 8:17 AM I was swimming the other day. I was right in front of the life guard and she began to talk with me. Small talk about pools. Suddenly, apropos of nothing, she asked if I was a writer. I asked her why she thought I was and she wasn't sure.
I met Stephen for coffee the other day. We talked about being stuck. It isn't writers block. It's living block. Even being with him got the blood flowing to my brain again. I felt like a writer. I could feel writing beginning to form in my head. He thinks my blog writing takes all writing energy and maybe it does. But it also keeps me thinking in writing terms.
I'm putting most of my energy into finding a job right now. It makes me so miserable that I can hardly breathe. It sucks the life and will right out of me. I see through a glass darkly and it seems wise not to put words to that perspective.
Yesterday K3 took me to a park. Jan could play while we ate take out Turkish food and fancy pastry. I didn't realize that I was getting sun. The skin on my arms and face is red and tight. It was nice. But there is part of me that is always on the verge of tears these days. Always needing.
So I dunno. My stats are down and I understand. I'm not writing anything too compelling. I asked her why she thought I was a writer and she wasn't sure. It took me awhile to say I was a writer. And now I'm not sure why I think I am. But I know that the impulse is still in there. Buried under doubt and fear and panic and resentment. And need.
July 4 2005 11:48 AM Frederick Douglass says this is a day for scorching irony. I thought of his words while I was getting dressed. The tag on the pants I am wearing says All American Comfort on one side and made in Taiwan on the other. I wouldn't necessarily mind that they are made in Taiwan if I thought that the workers there were paid a living wage and had a reasonable work environment. But that's not why they were made there. We want what we want and we want it at any cost. National identity is almost never useful. A day to celebrate national identity and notions of liberty in this country is nothing if not scorchingly ironic.
We hold these truths to be self evident. All men are created equal. Those men of color bound in chains, those men who lived and greeted us and helped us to survive, what about them? And what about our wives and sisters and daughters and mothers? Liberty? Scorching irony indeed. We celebrate an act of revolution but we ignore other acts of revolution. A cursory read of labour history is as bloody as any of our wars. Our founding fathers wanted what they wanted at any cost. No cost labor. Is that American? The supply must meet the demand. At any cost.
It's about our stuff. They hate us because of our SUV"s. Scorching irony. The cars that demand the most of supply. We hate them because of our SUV's. We must hate them because we are willing to reek havoc in their country.
Do I sound like I hate the country in which I live? I don't. I am a daughter of that revolution. Part of how I understand myself was born today. Born in a European tradition of making political statements with parades and feasting. And I live in a city that makes an effort to subvert that what-we-want-at-any-cost paradigm. I see none of this as a reason for pride or shame. It's more complicated than that. After all, I'm wearing pants that were made in Taiwan. They fit and I could afford them. Demand. Supply. There it is. I get a bit of the burn from the scorch.
Every year all the folks in the building go up on the roof where there is a great view of the fireworks. I like that moment when I am on the roof with my neighbors. I like gathering together and feasting. But it is complicated. There are always two lyric lines in my head while I watch.
And the rockets red glare. And so once again you are fighting us all.
July 5 2005 1:06 PM I wasn't going to go up in the roof last night but my neighbor rousted me. It was a clear night and we had a great view and they were pretty. Sort of. In a bang boom kind of a way.
This morning I was chasing my own tail. Trying to figure out how to ...how to ... oh...you know...fix everything.
July 6 2005 11:54 AM And speaking of scorching irony, I just heard a snippet on CNN about Imelda Marcos. She is now a spokes person for the Philippine shoe industry. Something about that. I dunno.
We almost had a BART strike. On the local news last night there were stories of people worried about getting to work and this morning there were stories about people being happy they could get to work. I sympathize with them. I depend on public transportation. But it felt like a way to make the BART workers feel bad that they inconvenienced people. On the other extreme I got the labour perspective from KPFA.
The other day on Against the Grain there was an interesting conversation about a new book in which they mentioned Veblen. I had to read Veblen for a class. I didn't quite get that it was satire. The conversation clarified some things for me in terms of the sense of entitlement the ruling class feels and the way those of us not born into it feel.
I try to understand how self interest becomes pathology. We need self interest. And we need the awareness that we are part of something larger and our needs aren't the only needs in the room. People need to get to work and people need to have labor rights.
Maybe more to the point, we have leadership in this country with a deeply imbedded sense of entitlement, a sense of personal destiny. I sometimes like ideas about personal destiny. I wish I had more of sense of positive personal destiny and not just a longing for luck. But it's clear that a sense of personal destiny can become toxic.
Also in the news we hear lots about angry protestors at the G8 summit and not about the reasons for the anger. M was in the streets though I doubt she was beating on a police person.
The world seems to me to be, as always, a place of unspeakable cruelty and deeply moving kindness. Not battling against one another but always teetering toward imbalance.
July 7 2005 8:40 AM Danelle and Alena are in town. I got to spend some time with them. We had a lunch and walked and talked. I got to hear about the twenty-five year celebration for the company.
Twenty-five years. Phew. I am older.
It was fun but I'm always a little tense these days. I'm always feeling like there's something I should be doing that I'm not doing. It's hard to just relax. Not hard to space out in front of the computer screen while I look at jobs but hard to actually have fun.
I'm so cranky. I spend as much energy working on my attitude as I do working on finding a job. Maybe more.
July 10 2005 10:26 PM
Years ago a friend told me about a book. I never wrote down the name and I can't remember exactly what it was about but it had to do with how things pile up. Like when you're walking down the street and there are no cars but when you get to the intersection three cars arrive there too, so you hafta wait. It's not a big deal. Maybe a little annoying.
I've been thinking about it because most of the time I'm here alone. Right now Renee is in town. I get to see her once, or twice a week. Which is great. Danelle and Alena were here and I got to see them more than once. Jeane was here. Jane may be coming. None of this is annoying. Far from it. It's rejuvenating. I've been having fun. It's just all happening at once.
In some ways it feels like a turning point. Not for any particular reason. These are all people I love. I've been having great talks. It's just been good.
So.
July 12 2005 9:39 AM
I had the great good fortune to spend time with Maria yesterday. She was kind enough to take me out for a wonderful lunch and a coffee. We talked the joys of blogging and the hazards of blogging and the complexity of the blog relationship.
And we talked about other stuff.
Heh.
She also brought me some books. Fortuitous since I was two pages away from completing the book I was reading.
I'd already been out that morning. I'd gone somewhere on the F line. I do love those old cars. And so do all the tourists. In the morning things had been mellow but when I left Maria to go home there was a pack of people waiting. Two cars went past, so full that they refused to stop. I walked across the street and got on a less historic bus, which I knew would drop me off in North Beach. That bus was almost empty. As we pulled away I looked back and saw all those people trying to pack onto a trolley. I had to catch a second bus to get home but it came quickly and was also somewhat empty. I felt so city savvy.
Maria and Deb have both mentioned Ian Mcewan lately. Deb is trying to read everything he ever wrote. When I got home I wanted to add some of his books to my wish list. I use the list to keep track of books. I recently began to add discs. There's a contest at Amazon in which you may win your wish list. You need to make a new list. So I did. I just moved everything from my old list over to the new one. And then I began to add a few things. Randomly. They had an ad for a digital camera and I want one so I added it. Suddenly I was shopping.
I've always had an ambivalent relationship with Amazon. I worry that they crush small local book stores. When I link a book I try to use my small local stores. I really think of Amazon for books. And if anyone uses my list to buy me something I want them to find something affordable. As I was ramping up to replace my lap top, desk top, PDA and music system on Amazon's dime (if I won) I began to feel creepy. I thought about making two lists. One with all the big ticket stuff. It occurred to me that if I won the contest and they sent me all the electronics and not the books and music I would be sad.
I also know that there's a way to link to Amazon and build points so that you get free books. I never mind when other people do that. I'm always glad to think that when I click to a book from their site they may end up with another book. But I have that worry thing going on.
It's something I've been thinking about lately. Using the site for gain. There was a woman who created a site to get rid of her credit card and student loan debt. She did and then she wrote a book about it. I think that's cool. More power to her. After George posted about people in need I wanted to beg to be added. I never have a problem when anyone has a Pay Pal tip jar. And I am in really bad financial time. Really, really bad.
And yet, people have been helping me with groceries, books, meals in restaurants, cash. I had a lavish birthday. I'm living pretty large for someone on the brink. I feel overwhelmed by people's generosity most of the time.
But. I just. I feel. I can't figure out. I dunno. There was that moment last night when I was filling up my wish list with stuff and I began to feel creepy. I really hate feeling this much need so much of the time. I hate the desperation. I hate the paranoia. I hate the greed. I hate feeling like I need everyone I know to help me. And I kinda do.
If my book ever gets published I will have no trouble adding a link to it. I think. I'm pretty sure.
I dunno. Despite the fact that things are so precarious I feel better than I have in a long time. More hopeful. And I know that's because of all the kindness I've been shown in the past few weeks. It's good to give and it's good to receive.
When I was hanging out on Amazon I noticed an old "page I'd made" about a book by Linda Schierse Leonard. I have read all of her books but one. I found her book about reindeer years ago and was happy and surprised. Usually her books are Jungian perspectives on self work. I have her most recent book but I haven't read it. I was afraid I might not like it. Kinda like when you hook up with an old friend and you have less in common. But after the Amazon lust frenzy I felt the need to cool out. So I pulled it off the shelf.
Oh. It's all so good. And loopy. And. Real. Or somthin. I just. I want to. I need to be able to pay my bills.
July 14 2005 12:06 PM While I was waiting for Maria the other day I noticed two women and their children. They were right in front of me but on the other side of a glass window. One mom was putting sunscreen on her son, who was also wearing a hat and a sunglasses. He wasn't so much wearing them as he was playing with them. It was charming.
I don't remember sun screen when I was a kid. I have vague memories of using it when I was teen. Slathering on thick, greasy, stinky, stuff and posing on a beach towel for two minutes until I got bored. Then jumping in the pool and washing it off.
It occurred to me that sun screen may be more important to moms now. Maybe because we know more about what exposure to the sun does to skin, or because there's less ozone. I just thought about all the things a mom has to worry about now.
I've been remembering things from The Culture of Fear. In the aftermath of the London bombings I've heard at least two reports about packages that were found in transit centers but turned out to be nothing. Which makes you wonder why they were news. And we've all been told to be vigilant. Ooooooooo. Scary. Every time I'm on the Muni I hear an announcement to be vigilant. There are posters urging vigilance. We are on alert. Tense. I see it in the faces of the tourists on the trolley.
I was back at the Ferry Building yesterday for tea and Dim Sum with Sonia. On the way in a nice young man held the door open for me. I went back in after lunch and another young man held the door and on the way out yet another young man made an attempt to hold the door but couldn't figure out to pull and not push. And then a young man on the bus gave up his seat for me. That never happens.
Am I giving off some kind of new vibe? I do feel ... something. Shifted. Or something. And everyday someone does something kind for me. Feeds me. Gives me a gift. Holds open a door. Have I changed? Are the stars lined up differently?
Things. Actual things. Are pretty much the same in my life. But they feel different.
July 15 2005 12:31 PM When I first read the comment from anonymous I felt hurt and angry. Which, I think, is human.
The biggest gift of the past few weeks has been the sense that things are going to work out. It is in no way true that I don't have to earn a living and I can no longer do the work I've done all my life. Trying to find a job, with no experience, at my age, in this city, is challenging. Combining that effort with trying to get my book published has been soul crushing. And the people closest to me have picked me up, fed me and renewed my strength for continuing the effort. I think the thing that is making the difference in my life right now is that I'm filled with gratitude.
For most of my life I took great pride in the amount of work I could do. In restaurants the work can be pounding. And I took pride in the hours I worked and the amount I could get done. Not being able to do that leaves me with a gap of self esteem that I used to fill with labour hours. Getting a BA and a MFA, writing a book. None of it felt like work. Kristina used to remind me that it was. It's not a good idea to use work as a platform for your sense of self. It's too shaky.
Rebecca Solnit was on KPFA the other day. You can listen to the show. She was talking about her new book. I admire her and her writing. She was supposed to work with me on my book and she bailed in a none too expeditious manner. So I have some attitude about her but when I listen to her talk I am always charmed. She was talking about how writing works in her life. The mechanics of it. The work of it. Something I'm always trying to understand. When she talked about how she spends her time it didn't seem like work but I knew that it was. Writing turns everything into fuel.
People go to the pool for different reasons. Some want to swim hard. They are usually in the cooler lap pool. Splashing. For others the pool is like a big hot tub. They want to paddle about and chat. They like the warmer pool. I want to swim. I'll chat if someone wants to chat but I really like to keep movin. The warmer pool is the one with the steps. That's where I swim. I already have a friend, an eighty-seven year old woman, who arrives every day just before I'm about to leave. I've had a chance to do my laps so I swim around her and we chat. It's always been that way in my life. I can't quite keep up with the cooler, hard swim but I don't want to dally. There's some part of me that always feels the need to prove something about who I am.
I had another reaction to the comment. When you write on line and you try to be open and your life is the source of your writing, you hafta expect that there will be people who don't like you. I'm not sure why but it seems that you do.
But. Then. It's another day. And I'm still swooning with gratitude.
July 17 2005 10:51 AM I've been blogging long enough to know that when people with no names leave comments you should ignore them. And when people leave comments with a mean spirited tone it's best to ignore them. I'm having a hard time writing with no mention of it because it's like trying to pretend there isn't this really stinky thing in the room. But there isn't anything useful to say about it.
Tough love and unconditional love are opposites sides of a conceptual coin. Real love is more difficult. I know that my friends get tired of the way it's been for me lately. Last year a friend told me they didn't want to be my friend any more. I understand that. It is hard to know someone through a time of struggle. People want to believe that things can work out. When things aren't working out for someone it brings up a lot of fear.
It's a slogan culture. Self help jargon comes from the pages of advertising. Corporate culture wants us to be obedient and self critical. Well-being is described by strengths. Weakness is a pathology.
Do I indulge self pity? Yes. I do. I am neither proud, nor ashamed of it. It's just part of being human.
Is there more I could be doing to find a job and a publisher, or an agent? No doubt there is.
Have I been stuck? It seems to me that I've written about being stuck. And I've written about getting unstuck.
Am I stubborn and resistant? Often. Useful criticism is always welcome. Shame is never welcome.
There's really nothing to say to someone who doesn't listen. Enough is enough I suppose. It is hard for me to not get to a resolution of some sort. It's always been hard for me to accept that there are people who can't see past their own judgements. This is a funny experience. I am watching myself struggle to make sense of the nonsensical. I know I need to stop.
And I will.
July 18 2005 10:51 AM I was eating a bowl of arugula with tofu salad. The arugula was bitter and the tofu salad had spice and onions. And I had a bowl of cherries, ripe and sweet. I went from one to the other.
Too much sweetness is too much. To much bitter and spice is too much. I like it all. I wander back and forth between them. Take from it all.
That's the way it is right now. Really sweet. Really bitter. Some spice. And me trying to take it all in.
And be both.
And be neither.
July 19 2005 9:25 AM
I watched The Scholar. Every episode. I still can't figure out how I feel about it. It was kinda like Jeopardy meets The Real World. It was full of those television things but if you're going to watch television you can't really expect otherwise. I was worried that the kids would all get make-overs. That didn't happen. Happily.
It was interesting because they were being judged both on how they could distinguish themselves and how they could work with others. A fine balance to establish.
There was one guy who was so confident and I didn't really like him but he missed questions on quizzes twice when he knew the answers. I felt for him both times. I test badly. It's such a drag when you know you could have done better.
The finalist that I wanted to win the full ride scholarship did not win. But they all got some money. And lap tops. And money to decorate their dorms rooms. I guess the make-over theme had to sneak in somewhere.
If any kid watched the show and was inspired to go to college then I think it was good. That's what hooked me. The idea that scholarship was going to be rewarded. But there were all these other things by which the kids were measured. None of which were too egregious and there was a strong focus on how they worked together. I dunno. I'm not sure what bugged me.
I did surprisingly well on the biology quiz and I did OK on the history quiz except for the dates. I suck at remembering dates.
I guess it was the idea that a scholar is also a leader. I'm not sure I think that's true. I think scholarship often happens in quiet and is not competitive. Being a big wig on campus is competitive. I suppose. Maybe that's the thing that didn't sit well with me. There wasn't a lot of discussion of big ideas. There was testing and competing.
There was a debate about Gay marriage in which one of the kids had to speak for the side of the issue with which he did not agree. That was moving and could have been expanded upon. Perhaps.
I just wanted more about thinking. Instead of a focus on who was attracted to who maybe a few conversations between them on the issues of the day. Something more. Some how. Which I suppose is unlikely to happen on reality (cough) TV
July 20 2005 10:29 AM The pool is still free. Which is great for me. But I listened to budget hearings in which pool employees were begging for their jobs a year ago. The head of Park and Rec at the time had the idea to not have a person who took money but rather have the life guards take turns doing it. There were people at the hearing who had been working at a neighborhood pool for years and neighbors who were there to speak for them. At our pool the life guards and pool manager seem to do it all so I guess that was what happened. There was a rumor that they would charge in July but July, much to my chagrin, is half over.
And the pool has added another swim on Mondays and Wednesdays for elderly and special needs people. I get to go because of my knee, which makes four time a week. I would go every day if I could but four is good.
There is an evolving culture. If I get there in time I swim half the length of the pool and back long ways. There is a class the other end. When I got there yesterday a woman had established a cross ways pattern. Which was fine. One day a woman came in and began doing aerobics right in the middle of the pool. People were trying to swim around her and avoid each other but it wasn't really working. It's always interesting to watch how territory gets established and how conflict is resolved. For the most part things go well. Everyone I talk to loves the pool and is happy to be there so we're all pretty mellow.
On Tuesdays and Thursdays I swim during the hour before an aerobics class. The closer to the time for the class the more people show up. There is a eighty seven year old woman who comes. We always chat. And there is a woman who uses a scooter to get around and the chair to get into the pool though she can walk. I've seen her in the neighborhood now. We know each other by name now.
I try to stay for the class but after an hour in the pool I'm usually ready to go. I sit in the sauna for a few minutes and then I'm out.
July 21 2005 11:42 AM
The reason I've loved Joni Mitchell from the minute I first heard her was because she wrote about complexity. She understood herself to be a process and wrote from that disorientation. And in so doing she carved out a clear vision. Something that articulated my own experience and made it easier to bear.
I woke up with a line from one of my favorite Joni songs in my head.
I'm not sure why that line this morning because I'm not feeling "all complaint."
Yesterday I went swimming. I kept thinking about my post and thinking I hadn't written it as I well as I might have. There is all was. One man was swimming laps on his back. He couldn't see and was taking up a fair amount of space rotating his arms. He almost hit me as I was first getting in. An older woman who I had seen the other day and I acknowledged each other with shy smiles and nods. The chatty woman from the neighborhood was there. She and I began to swim in parallel lines and chat, all the while trying to avoid the guy doing the back stroke. It didn't work. He hit me once and her twice. He did this very funny thing each time in which he would life his head a bit and mumble something like hi/sorry and then go back to his swim.
I got out of the pool and went into the sauna. There was one other woman there and we began to chat. First about the wonders of the pool and then she said she needed to go home and write. She had been a journalist and was now doing text for a book. We began to talk about writing until the chatty woman came in and chimed in but took the conversation in another direction.
None of that bugged me, although any of it might have on another day.
On the way to the pool my neighbor stopped me to say that she had received a package for me. I knew a package was coming from Kristina but when I got home I stopped and got the box and it was from Adrienne. She sent me a book that made me laugh out loud. If you've been reading my comments lately you might understand why. And she sent a deck that I've been wanting since last year when I was inspired by Willa to take out my old deck and pull a card every day. Such a fun box of enablement.
The art in the deck is so lush and fun. New cards are so clean and hard. My deck is soft and worn from many hands. I like both. I pulled a card.
That also made me laugh.
And then Emily came over so that we could do some yoga together. We've been going to do this for awhile. She brought me some bricks that she no longer uses, which I am happy to have and reminded me of some stretches that I had forgotten.
In the evening I watched The Wind Will Carry Us, which was beautiful and charming and tried to knit while reading subtitles. Danelle called in the middle of the movie to talk about a new piece she's doing. It's been years since she and I got to have long lucid conversations about art. It brings back a sense of myself that I've missed.
And then I woke up with those lyrics and the thought that I didn't know what to do about a post. Should I talk about getting a book, tarot cards and some yoga bricks? Should I divulge that I had a nice day full of exercise and interesting thinking? Should I confess that I have a piece of writing about which I did much thinking yesterday but no actual work on? And I did not find a job.
In the process of looking for the lyrics I noticed an interview with Joni.
I get a lot of encouragement to not let things bother me. It's good advice and I try to take it to heart. But I am someone who reflects on things and sometimes that takes energy that might be better used on other things. I just hafta hope It's all grist for the mill.
July 22 2005 12:27 PM A few years ago I wrote about a plant. It had survived so much neglect but had dropped all of it's leaves and was then a stick in a pot. I thought about throwing it out but I didn't. Slowly it began to produce leaves again.
This summer I repotted it. It seems like every day there are more leaves. Some of them are huge. It's just the most beautiful thing. Every morning when I walk into the living room it's the first thing I look at. It has become a symbol of renewal.
There's only one place in the room that it likes. If I move it anywhere else it gets cranky. Other than that it still doesn't require much of me. I woke up thinking about it this morning.
Speaking of beautiful things. Go read what Dale wrote.
July 23 2005 8:34 AM
Just before I went to bed I heard a thing on the local news about West Nile. After I'd been in bed for awhile I heard the sound of a mosquito. I don't really care if they bite me I just can't sleep when they buzz in my ear. So I turned on the light and began to read.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the little guy on the wall. I say guy because I've heard that the male makes all the noise. That may be apocryphal but it makes sense to me. I swacked at him with my book and missed. I swacked again and smashed him leaving a fairly large smear of what I can only assume was my blood. Yuck.
Do I think I have West Nile? No. And if I do I'll fall off that cliff when I get to it. It's that whole culture of fear thing that I hate. Hear the news. Get a bug bite. BE AFRAID !!! There is some truth to the reason for fear but it's the fear that creates the space for things like random searches in subway stations. We rationalize the loss of civil liberty because of the small truth behind the fear. Everything is distorted. Real fear becomes hard to discern.
I was just happy to know I could go back to sleep with no buzz annoying me.
July 25 2005 7:18 AM I haven't been writing about my Sims because I haven't been playing much. The new game is cool but its full of bugs. And the bugs really suck the fun out of it. The new game is kind of like the never ending story. Which may just be the way I play.
I was playing yesterday. I had moved a family into a new house. When you do that three of the neighbors will stop by to welcome you. I usually ignore them. If there is a wedding or a party going on they just walk in. The woman in my family was pregnant and, just as the neighbors arrived, went into labour.
When a Sim goes into labour everyone in the house will come running and make all these funny faces. They sort of jump and grab their head. Well the visiting neighbors all did that and I noticed that they were all women, two of which were pregnant and one who had just had a baby.
I really have never figured out how to take the pictures so that you can see things and I took this one a little late. The woman in the back is still reacting but the other two have stopped. If the picture was better you could see that one woman is slightly bigger than the other. It was like a meeting of the moms and it just made me laugh to see them all doing the jump and grab your head thing. It's just this kind of surprising, funny, thing that keeps me playing.
And the woman had twins, which is always fun.
July 27 2005 9:00 AM Something from that interview with Joni has had me thinking. She thinks moving around a lot as a kid made it easier for her to deal with rejection. She was always being uprooted. Change was the given. Loving her as I do I don't think of her as someone who had much rejection but I do remember how slammed she was for the Mingus album. I also remember that she dragged me through those changes. I wasn't sure I liked it when she was more rock-n-roll. I wasn't sure I liked it when she was jazz. But I followed along. And I loved it all.
The first time I moved was when I was three months old. Mom was leaving Dad but she didn't know it at the time. The second time was when I was twelve or thirteen. Mom and I moved into our own apartment. It was supposed to be a good thing but shortly after my grandmom and poppop went into a nursing home. A few years later we moved to Maryland and again, it felt like a good and a bad thing.
I've always speculated that it had an impact on how I am in a variety of ways. It's hard for me to root. I haven't thought about it in terms of how I deal with rejection.
I moved a lot in my adult life. I've lived in the apartment I am in now for longer than I've ever lived anywhere. For the past few years I believed that I would move anywhere for a job. And I would. But lately I realize that I don't really want to. In some ways knowing that much has felt good. Although, I'm not sure why.
July 28 2005 10:05 AM The day after Renee was born Danelle and I went on a road trip from Boulder to SF. We spent a lot of time in a coffee shop on the Haight, which I think was called the Baby Grande, or the Grande Piano. I was reminded of this yesterday when Renee and walked past it on our way to see Harold and Maud. It's not a coffee shop any more. It's an over priced used and vintage clothing store.
We went to the movie as we did last year. It might be the last time. it might not. But things feel wide open and full of both shiny possibility and dark likely hood. It's the perfect movie to see at such a time.
Twenty one years. Jeez. It boggles the mind.
July 29 2005 12:05 PM I spent some time reading this site the other day. I think these walk about projects are cool. People do them for a variety of reasons. I don't take issue with his purpose. It's |
