shop around
03.20.04 @ 8:45 p.m.
Well. I haven't written for a couple of days, which is a bit surprising. Something was making me tense and while I still don't want to talk/think about it yet, it's not completely inhibiting me anymore. I'm open here, but I still don't quite want to make a fool of myself over everything. For now, I'm writing in the commercials while I watch What's Eating Gilbert Grape. Hello, Johnny Depp. Juliette Lewis, I could do without. I never liked her.
Thursday was unexceptional. I slept a lot and played some guitar. My dad bought a '60s pop fake-book, which means it's a hell of a lot of chord progressions. Dad gets annoyed that I used a 'folk rhythm' when I play, possibly just as much as it annoys me that he seems incapable of anything but a swing rhythm. Also, Dad gets mega paranoid when I use his Martin, because it's mahogany or some such and I have a nasty tendency to bump expensive guitars against pointy parts of furniture. But I have time free and no access to other guitars.
Friday, yesterday, Dad left for Bremerton. He spent all day packing up and getting the kennel set to survive without him for a couple of days. I called Hillsboro and accepted the custodial job for summer, at least for now. It seems unlikely that something that pays as well will drop out of the sky and into my lap, and there's a certain amount of pleasant mindlessness in manual labor. Mom and I watched Smoke Signals, which is based on Sherman Alexie's short story collection, The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven. I got the book out from the library and plan to read it, since it uses some of the same characters from Reservation Blues.
Today was the day that was interesting. I went to Saturday Market with Martha and Amy. We wandered aimlessly for the most part. Martha bought a t-shirt (an adorable but overpriced brown shirt with an outline drawing of a lemon half on it) and Amy bought a Canadian flag duct tape wallet (what is it with Americans being Canada-posers?). We went into a poster store in the Skidmore Fountain building and bought a sepia print of a picture of the Who. I don't have the connection speed and patience to find an online version of it. Amy bought a similar print of Sonny and Cher, so we got a slight discount by buying them together. We asked for them in separate bags, making jokes about believing in poster segregation. I was severely tempted by the mod-target Who poster, but in the end decided against it. Well, I shilly-shallied about getting it or not and Martha came up and said "What are you trying to decide? I'll decide for you." Since I was definitely getting the sepia print, it was decided that I wouldn't get the big poster. Even though a few minutes before Martha was telling me to get it because Moon was wearing his "Elvis for Everyone" shirt and she likes that.
We went to Lloyd Center after that for lunch, then spent quite a lot of time starting The Book. This is a joint writing venture of The Wandering Friends, which is the name of our email list. Most of us have agreed to work on it and I was assigned to start it. I'm glad now that the three of us started together, because it's a million times funnier than anything I could have come up with all alone. I'd be tempted to reprint what we wrote, but I gave the book to Martha to copy over, because the three of us have gotten possesive of our story and want to write our own version. One copy goes to the group, one stays ours. Though I'm wondering when we'd be getting together again to work on it. So far, Martha's attacked an inflatable Shriner, we ran to Ena and Oliver's opium den (Oliver is a guy we knew in high school and always enjoyed talking to), where Oliver was cutting cocaine with his library card. Ena brought out muffins, said sinister things, and passed out in a drug addled stupor. Amy discovered Ena's plot to assassinate me but decided to tell me nothing. Then we left, I think, and that's where we ended for the day. But in far more detail and infinitely more amusing. I'll be interesting to see where this goes when it gets to Moni and Andrew and eventually down to Jenny in California. We also decided to let others write in it, so long as we 'kept it in the family.' So, you know, no handing it over to strangers or friends who have no idea who the rest of us are.
Mom and I went out to Fred Meyer to look for a new light jacket for me. We bought something but I don't really like it all that much now that I've looked at it closer. I'd like it more if the sleeves were cotton instead of polyester. Tomorrow we'll go to GI Joe's and hopefully I'll find a nice zip-front hoodie or a track jacket to use as a jacket. It's imperative in case we go to the beach. My thin little denim jacket is basically useless. And ugly.
Previously
fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05
