Act natural

( Wednesday, Sept. 18, 2002 11:49 pm )

>Mellow loneliness hour strikes again

Do you do this? When a car beeps outside, do you look out the window just in case it might be someone coming unexpectedly to pick you up? Even if you clearly know the beeping could not possibly be directed at you because you know no one in the tri state area? Just me? OK, I'm a sad girl. But you never know. I am ever vigilant.

Today I went into the city in the morning on very random and made-up errands. I passed one man selling candy and accosting all the passersby: "buy some candy today sir?" To me he said, "how bout you, babygirl?" I kept on walking, but it was funny to me. No one's ever called me that before. I like the way people look at me when I walk down a crowded street. Also while walking I saw across the street a man playing bongoes and a man playing the trombone. The trombone player was singling out people walking by and playing directly at them, and I had to laugh. Aggressive brass on the mean streets.

Juney and I painted all afternoon and evening. There is nothing on earth more satisfying than painting something white. It looks so lovely, bleached clean.

Tonight Juney's out (OK, it makes me feel lame. I can't glom onto her friends all the time though. Just cause I boo hoo don't know nobody) and I'm sitting here listening to my old PCU radio station and writing. Oh, and I called Nathan again, praying don't pick up don't pick up don't pick up. And he didn't. But he called back in two minutes. For once I think it was a conversation that went OK. I had had one beer, which tends to make me suddenly more voluble, but I'm better that way, I think. Not that I self-medicate. Buuuuuut. I really am more sociable after one drink. After about three I have a strong urge to hug everyone that is quite difficult to suppress. Four and I'm drunk. Anything after that is serious danger zone. Lightweight! Lightweight!

Guess what? I've started writing a story. I'm very glad that I'm writing again. I just tried the new trick of just doing it, and perservering even if I think it's stupid and don't know how to go on, because that's how writing is, you figure out what it's about as you write, not ahead of time, and you revise later, once you know. If I ever do come out with a book, or a sufficient body of work, or whatever, no matter what the dedication page says, really it will be To Schmitty. Again, I am a sad girl. But the truth must be told!

My mom and grandma emailed me today, which I guess is good. I was thinking I should send my grandma a postcard since I haven't yet, but then I reasoned that she's much more impressed with email now that she knows how to do it. She's old enough to have gotten plenty of postcards, unlike me. Seriously though, if someone were actually to write me a letter, I would propose marriage immediately. For a telegram, I would sell my soul. I may have digital cable, but I have a 1900 Heart.

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