Hear What They See

Tuesday, April 20, 2004

i wish i had sexy knees

dainty feet
ankle bones like beige gumballs
calves indented by lines of muscle

| Mrs. Botton was at it again @ 8:05 PM

An Over Arching Consciousness

I spent a week in St. Louis attending Conventions.
I hardly slept at all.
I got drunk after a Cardinals game on an empty stomach at a bar called Paddy-O's and talked in a British accent all night.
Ugh.
I met 3 women from Idaho and we hung out the majority of the week.
They picked up a dude at the Hyatt bar who should be related to the Sopranos.
They somehow coerced him to take us all out to dinner.
He slapped down $600 to take 4 women to some Italian restaurant where all the US Presidents go and Oprah has a pasta named after her.
I rented a car and got lost for hours looking for an Office Depot.
I now know every street name in St. Louis.
I bought clothes at Goodwill.
My tonsils got swollen and erupted with infection.
I'd like to blame going to Goodwill for making my tonsils erupt, but I think the sleep thing has more to do with it.
I stuck my foot in my mouth talking politics.
I don't think on my feet when I talk politics; I end up coming across like an idiot even when the idea is sound.
I came home and proceeded to swear a blue streak driving home from the airport.
Parking cost me $137.00.
I bought another piece of luggage to accomodate my new Goodwill clothes.
The bag cost more than the clothes.
I met the Founders of BookCrossing.com and showed thewheelbarrow movie.
I never did make it to the Arch.

| Mrs. Botton was at it again @ 7:40 PM

Thursday, April 08, 2004

I think it's the time change. I think that's why I feel so whacked. My head is wide and huge, like a blimp attached to this as-yet-not-fully-recovered neck. Bobble-headed, that's what it is. Like a bobble head on the dashboard.

There have been so many dead things on the road. Suppose it's Spring? All the little live things are out and they're winding up dead. Splot. I cringe every time. I never get used to seeing that splash of red deadness on the road. I swallow and try to erase it. It's impossible. It never goes away. It just stays in my head. The next morning it's flatter and less red and the next day even less until it's finally just a grey slide of fur on the asphalt. But I always remember what it looked like when I first drove by the newly deadness of it.

Tonight it was a doe. Off to the side, I nearly hit it again. I just knew after I passed someone else would hit it again. I always want to cry. I see hurt or dead things -animals, people, plants- and it's always the same. Even plants. God. What is my problem?

| Mrs. Botton was at it again @ 11:30 PM

Wednesday, April 07, 2004

movie afternoon

i was a little drugged out on some painkillers
(i don't know what they are, something mom had for after a surgery...my neck is that tweaked)
i watched a movie about patrice lumumba, the first prime minister of the independent republic of congo.
i wanted to cry; man, we are horrible, humans are awful to one another. and we're stupid;
ignorant stupid assholes
we haven't changed one bit from 500 bc. we just got prettier and live longer, but we're dumb as hell.
alzheimers is not just an epidemic among our aging populace. we're right in the middle of the biggest alzheimer's moment ever. right now. people forget history so easily, act like there is nothing before today, nothing before me, this moment, this high, this piece of pizza, this fuck, this internet connection . our frame of reference is slowly eradicated by our ignorance. how many people today would act ethically if they didn't have to? how many of us would opt not to cheat if we were able to figure out a way around it? is there pride in work done well for work's sake, or is it just what we can get away with without anyone else knowing? where do we learn to behave humanely? where did our history go? where is it? when did we get so inurred to one another that being snide, being flippant, being rude is OK and no one even cares or thinks to question? i don't know where i'm going with this train of thought. i just know i felt so forlorn after watching that movie, seeing the sacrifices a person knowingly took, how much was suffered at the hands of other men, for...what? what legacy was left behind? what did we learn? i'd never heard of patrice lumumba before tonight. killed him dead. like so many other people killed dead and gone, into thin air, smoked away in an oil drum. do a saw's teeth retain the blood after the man is gone?

I do not want to feel immune to my world.
I do not want to feel numb to other people.
I do not want to turn my back on history.
I want to live like things matter.
I want to see things and not pretend.
I want to.
I do.

| Mrs. Botton was at it again @ 1:19 AM

WiFiNally

i rock
now i can take my computer wherever i want around home,
no more dial-up, wonders may never cease.

laptop avec wifi
merci boucoup

| Mrs. Botton was at it again @ 1:02 AM

tired

officially today, both tests are done.
passed both.
series 6 last tuesday, series 63 today (yesterday?).
i now have a pinched nerve in my shoulder like you wouldn't believe
i love stress
i leave for st louis next week and i'm just not ready
so frickin' much to do, never enough time.
but at least the tests are done,
thank God i passed.
i hate studying that crap
snore
ask me next week if i remember anything
ho ho ho

| Mrs. Botton was at it again @ 12:57 AM