Thanks to the technological advances of Humboldt State University and Seattle Public Library, I can update my journal from the wilds of Northern CA. Today I slept until 11, ate a bagel, drank coffee, drove around, listened to cable radio, walked in the rain and am now at the HSU library checking my mail while Jenny goes hiking in Trinidad [my foot is still a bit logey]. Everyone at the computer terminals here has dreadlocks. Woo woo!
As of tonight at 4 am, I am en route to Northern CA to hug some trees and get the heck out of town.
Adventures with the Homeless, Part II: While I was waiting for the bus downtown, a homeless man who clained to be a master of "ringology" told me that the ring on my pinky finger [pictured at right] indicated that I was sexually maladjusted.
Spurred on by a particularly bad mood this weekend, I am now almost on top of all my back burner projects. I mailed a bicyle to my sister, charged my battery and paid my library fines. I also bought a three-hole punch and some chocolate chips.
this just in: the car works!!!
I'm in Wired magazine! My pal Colin blurbed my Barthelme page and it's running in this month's Wired. Page 165, or 156, or 166... just look for it. For those of you who don't have ready access to the corporate-apologist-businessman-as-rebel rag, here's the text of the blurb:
Homegirl gets paid! Everyone vote for the Families and Education Levy [because most of you don't even own property, or if you do, it's not in Seattle] because it pays my salary and I do good work.
I saw a hedgehog walking down the side of the road in the middle of the night this weekend.
In more recent news, I won a T-shirt during a Folklife Volunteers meeting because I knew the name of the hip-hop show on KCMU -- Rap Attack.
Forgot to mention, the other day as I was cleaning out my apartment and creating a mini-library in my walk-through closet, I was emptying out a box of Mother Earth Review magazines that I got from the ALISS booksale and found five Penthouse Mags kinda hidden. Of course, these weren't five random smut mags -- they were all the same, the 1984 issue w/ Vanessa Williams goin' at it with another woman inside. Now I'm not sure what to do with them... Yes, that is George Burns on the cover.
The restroom grafitti in the Elliot Bay Bookstore's Cafe said befriend a crazy. I would like you all to know that I am doing my best.
I also designed a web page for a friend-of-a-friend. She plays folk music and her label is named after her dead dog [pictured while living].
In this new phase of my life -- I call it the Suzy Homemaker Phase -- all I want to do is rearrange my house. Today I moved the computer into the former bedroom, organized the bedroom in the former office room, and on my friend Ken's advice, removed three of the four table-type pieces of furniture from my current and past living room. I think the place has flow now. I hope. Come visit and give me some aesthetic critique.
Oh yeah, I also dressed the stab wound of the homeless guy who sometimes sleeps in the doorway next door. He had already been to the hospital, but was worried that he had an infection. Being a good librarian, I told him the four warning signs of infection [heat, swelling, redness and throbbing? all I know is that all four words rhyme in Latin], determined his wound wasn't infected and splashed some hydrogen peroxide on it. As good karma payback, I found out that my contract with the City of Seattle has been renewed through 1997 and they're going to see if they can increase my hourly wage. Woo woo!
Today was my first sans Jack Rent is Theft party, and once again, twenty people showed up, more or less: Me, Ken, Desiree, Kathleen, Scott, Joe, Anne Sharon, Ryan, Joan, Tucker, Mimi, Sarah, Jeff, Jonathan, Billy, Jenny and a friend of Ashley's whose name I can't remember and three of her friends, one of whom was named Brian. There were many pairs of Levi's, a lot of stuff left over and with my co-host, Ken, the whole event went quite smoothly. Thanks, Ken.
In the alley next to my alley is a covered doorway where a lot of homeless guys and drunks like to hang out. It's covered, there's good light and a trash can and the fuzz don't come by too often. I have to walk by these guys all the time to get to my place and I'm generally friendly with them, as they are with me. Yesterday I gave a blanket to a guy I know there who admonished me for not reading the bible more often. -- I offered that it didn't seem to be doing much for him, but I guess he sure was chipper about sleeping in the alley.
This morning, I woke up to open the hall at 8:30 and there was a guy there when I got back pointing a camera at me. He had a shiny bicycle and a can of Colt 45. He said he was waiting for the camera store to open. He took my picture.
Happy May Day!
I was watching TV today on my way to watching a Jackie Chan flick when a song caught my ear [I was in the kitchen, ignoring the TV while my rice cooked]. It was the band Trio, an obscure group from the 80's singing their one hit -- Da Da Da. I peeked at the tube and there were two guys driving around town, just hanging out. I do that. They saw a chair on the side of the road and picked it up. I've done that. They drove some more, one of the guys was fiddling with one of those little animals that goes slack when you press a button underneath it. I have one of those. They sniffed the air like they smelled something bad and then dropped the chair back by the side of the road. All the while, this cool song is playing. I'm tapping my toes. Who are these guys? Then the tag line comes up "Volkswagen -- for all the things you do in your life, or lack of one" or some wise ass remark like that.
This ad lured me away from actual food. If you need to reach me for
any reason, I'll be hiding in the bomb shelter, deathly afraid of any more niche