Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Friday, August 27, 2010
I left the truck running as we switched positions. So this is it.
Demure brown chairs stacked high in the back.
Don’t tempt fate by counting your chickens before their eggs are all hatched in one basket.
I couldn’t tell if I was smelling fresh bread baking or the celery-colored paint from last night.
That I have intuited things they couldn’t find out through hours of hard research.
I think it gives me comfort to know that I could always switch email clients. Even though I’m with Outlook now, I could easily change to Thunderbird, and that might make a big difference.
Dreams of domestic bliss, being cheeky about other people’s friends, private jokes with my lovely partner.
Don't lie and say it's coffee you're makin'
Oregon is insanely beautiful
There exists a coffee called "Double French Roast"
My feelings have not changed
I'm still making up things to worry about
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Dick Diver this, Dick Diver that, Dick Diver is the only American man in Paris with repose [apparently this means he doesn't touch his face at restaurants; who cares?], Dick Diver is great at parties, Dick Diver is a fascinating dinner companion but runs away if you try to monopolize his attentions, Rosemary fell in love with Dick Diver the moment she saw him, Dick Diver's children were educated in France, Dick Diver, Dick Diver, etc. etc. (Have I said Dick Diver too much? Let me say it again, Dick Diver. Now you know my pain). Really far more than I need to know about this character at this point in the novel, and an embarrassing amount of affection shown for him by the author. Hasn't he heard of understatement? And did he know that the name of this character would torture me? He seems more than happy to repeat the name again and again, as if he knew it would get under readers' skin. It's starting to feel like work to read this for my book club, which is unfortunate. I'm committed to finishing it, but I wouldn't mind reading something I'd enjoy.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
These are the things that maybe you don't want to know about me, but maybe you should.
I am a person. I am a whole. I am not to be used only for good times.
I worry a fair amount about everything. I go hot and cold sometimes and am short with people I love. Inevitably regret it, but still, I think it's how I am. I know too much about living cheaply, but I always live well. I scoff at people who can't spell, but forgive the fault at will. I love talking to old friends, even when it makes you miss how things were. I want to tell people how much I love them, but usually can't. I like knowing smiles. I'd like to hold on to being 19, or 22, or 24, but not cling desperately. I mouth words when I type them in personal communications; this may look unseemly when I'm in public places. I'm not very good at sleeping anymore. If I'm serious, it's probably because I don't want to be the guy who always tries to be funny and is never serious. I tend to hold doors for people all the time, but I'm nervous about the interactions this entails. I don't know how to look at people in the hallways at work. I pray for things that I think I need. I want to write effortlessly. I want to live a good life, and be loved.