Hayyyyy Sunday

I just took a two hour nap

And woke up to... a massive paper to write. In french. Get out the 501 French verbs book...

Round One

Finished with round one of college essays! Ding Ding

I'm petsitting for Shimmer, but it's bittersweet going into Orlee's house errrry day when she's not there .

Earth Club Tomorrow!

November 21, August 21

I slept, but my eyes sill fuzz in and out in front of the computer screen. One more night of scanning. Staying in is driving me crazy.

I had not showered since Thursday, and it was not the good kind of dirty. That kind of dirty when I've been sleeping on the floor, or the surrounding smoke has fuzzed the tips, or I've had bad coffee and leaned my head up against a gritty wall - not that kind. Just straight dirty.

I biked there, it was about seven in the morning. And I realized how much I missed the early air. That teenage escapism of the morning, the morning after the night. The secret I shared with the poor men who awoke at 4 a.m. to deliver the paper to the residents of Whitefish Bay, residents who leave their bikes safely parked in their driveway. The secrets with the birds, who have just woken up. I whisper to them "Quiet little birds, please let me have a little more night." But of course they don't care what the hell I have to say about their morning.

The black trees against the sky form the patterns of youth and although you haven't slept you feel awake. The bike from his house to mine was never too long. I shouldn't say never - those times when my parents say I must be home at midnight but I don't care because five more minutes with him is worth being yelled at for. So I would stretch out the goodbye, squeeze in an extra kiss, or six, and then arrive home at 12:03 with no breath, racing my own mind down the streets and up the hills. I would glimpse the lake, early, in the morning the ride was slowly awesome.

Anyway, the day passed. I pulled two perfectly good bouquets of flowers out of the trash and stuck them in my bike basket. They jutted out as I biked home. When I reached my street I found a squirrel.

It was dead, in the center of my street. I circled it on my bike, over and over, until my mind felt felt like when you're sick and thirst claws but your body is weak and you imagine getting up and moving to the sink so many times you think you have. I circled this squirrel a lot. It had not been run over - it was whole, with its gentle little paws curled under it's damp and feathery breast. It's black eye was open, almost a slit. How was it so whole, so completely perfect? Had it just up an died in the middle of the street? I circled, I circled, and then I headed home.

Once, when I was going to his house in the middle of the night, I found a pidgin with no head. It had a tag on it's foot, but it had no head. I was scared, and biked more quickly. It died under a sign, by the Catholic school, that said - "Parents - help keep drugs out of Whitefish Bay." It was misty that night, creepy - I was happy when I arrived in his room.

We watched T.V., then fell asleep around 3, as usual. I slept for an hour, then tried to drag my bones out of his bed while my phone alarm chimed. I got on my bike, covered with dew, and biked home in the peering light. The sun was teetering on the edge of the lake. I re-entered my house.

I slept, but my eyes sill fuzzed in and out in front of the computer screen. One more night of scanning. Staying out was driving me crazy.

What A Man, that Bukowski

8 count

BY CHARLES BUKOWSKI

from my bed

I watch

3 birds

on a telephone

wire.

one flies

off.

then

another.

one is left,

then

it too

is gone.

my typewriter is

tombstone

still.

and I am

reduced to bird

watching.

just thought I'd

let you

know,

fucker.

http://lacedwithreality.blogspot.com

Infinity

Cheesecake Factory

twisted arms in between my growing-sore-er back

tell me that it is time to seep

time to sleep

and let the rings remove themselves

Essay Writing

I'm applying to 12 schools

and that means lots of supplemental essays

so I will be up tonight...

I Feel Particularly Un-Loved Today

sometimes i think this is true

Reading

Italian Vouge 1995

...

I'm Obsessed with Bananas

In Barbara Kingsolver's book Animal Vegetable Mineral she argues that eating bananas are completely unsustainable because it takes so many fossil fuels to get them to our plates. I agree completely.

I am a vegetarian and I make vegan choices

I am a dirty environmental hippy

I ride my bike everywhere

but i love bananas

and so to Barbara I say

I

don't

care