Envy

Thomas just called to tell me that he's been laying down tracks all day in GarageBand on a shiny new G4. Yes, it would be neat if I could do that too, but right now I'm walking back from the library in the rain with a load of books that might help me figure out what the hell it is that I want to do with my work and my life. I need some direction in the worst way.

Breathe

Again on the 33... this time to pick up a paycheck so I can take care of the bills this weekend. Been working some over the last few weeks -- not enough, but some, and now every little bit helps. If I can play this right I'll be able to make the student loan payments for December and January without too much trouble. If not, well...

Someone's scratched NIGHT into the plexiglass wall of the stop. Identifier or observation?

There's a young woman on the bus, mid-twenties maybe. Two small girls. Hard-voiced, impatient. I'm afraid of becoming her.

At the stop I talked for a moment with a young tough: down jacket, backpack, sandy 3-day beard, cigarette, energy drink. "Three-day weekend, man." Two nights to party, two days to recover. But housekeeping tonight: hasn't done the dishes in two weeks. Dishes and laundry between work. Another guy trying to make it through.

The youngest child is screaming now. Bright purple coat with white faux fur trim around the hood. Lavender leggings, those tiny white kid shoes.

I'm going to pick up my paycheck, and I'm afraid.

...

onehundred twentytwo dollars and ninetyfive cents. some.

On the 33 bus

A sparkling post-punk butterfly made me smile today: stubbled head, tall black boots, backbeat headphone crackle, black garters, silver glitter everywhere, and the most beautiful set of wings.

Odd

A shot just rang out down the hill, clear and sharp as anything.

Eleven days

Something changed in me last night. I sailed out of the bay and poured kerosene all over the boat, but before I could burn it all up, I grew tired and I swam home. And while I wasn't looking, the boat sprung a leak and sank without me. And I'm happy to see it go.

Nine days

The way Sandy says "Ohhh, very very beautiful..." when she sees me carrying the rolls of wrapping paper makes me smile.

...

I can't turn the music up loud enough to stop my mind.

Turtle sex and cat toys

NPR is running a story on the coming demise of the Y-chromosome, and therefore, mankind. Sounds like a fine plan to me.

My favorite part in the story was when a researcher said something along the lines of "You only have to look to our friends the turtles to see an example of distinct sexes without the presence of Y-chromosomes" [my emphasis].

I had my interview with King Cycle Group this afternoon, and I think it went pretty well, especially considering that this is basically the first real (read: formal) job interview I've done. They grilled me for an hour on why someone with an educational background and future goals like mine would be interested in a shipping & recieving position with a company who makes bike parts.

I dutifully avoided blurting out things like "Because I have bills to pay!" and "Bikes are pretty. Pretty, pretty bikes" and instead concentrated on phrases like "sincere interest in environmentally- and socially-responsible manufacturing practices." Then I grilled them for a while on their plans for future community projects and their internal review and advancement policies.

It went well, I think. I talked too much, and I didn't showcase the diversity of my experiences as effectively as I'd have liked, but overall it was a success. They seem to be nervous about hiring someone with education and bigger plans, and I really can't blame them. But how can I tell them that yes, I'll likely leave once something more in-line with my goals comes along, but that I'll give them 100% up to that point? People don't want to hear that.

They have cats in the office, which was charming except that one decided it would be a good idea to chew on my shirt buttons during the interview. Nice cat. Strange cat. Awkward cat.

They're supposed to call me back about the second round of interviews either late this week (not likely) or just after Christmas. Here's hoping...

Measurements

I figure there's something like 550 steps from the center of the Burnside bridge to the crosswalk at MLK, and most nights there's nothing terribly noteworthy for most of that span. But tonight it was windy from the south and the river was choppy and black. And there was that smell of licorice-synthetic orange-Simple Green near the east side again. hmm...

Goodbye

She just can't be chained
to a life where nothing's gained
or nothing's lost
at such a cost

There's no time to lose,
I heard her say
Catch your dreams before they slip away
Dying all the time
lose your dreams and you will lose your mind

Euphagus cyanocephalus

At first I couldn't place the noises I heard when I walked to the store last night for dinner. I stood for a moment in the middle of the aisle, thinking how odd it was that I was remembering the pond behind Neno's house in Missourri. Then I realized that I was hearing a blackbird, which was a decidedly out-of-place sound inside the supermarket, especially after dark.

But then I looked up and saw him, sitting there on top of the freezer: jet black, bright yellow eyes, trilling and clucking like a good blackbird should. He was alert and in good health, and seemed to be genuinely nonplussed about being in what must have been a very strange place.

I watched him for a few minutes, then did the remainder of my shopping. When I returned, he was gone.

[Bone up on the Brewer's Blackbird here and listen to a recording here.]