hotdogburger

When a person speaks to me or I am speaking to a person, I almost always turn at least a little red. This is something I am totally ready to outgrow. It makes me seem embarrassed, which I only am some of the time. I’m full-time flushed, though.

I am terrible at planning, and at follow-through.

But I love accomplishments.

And presidents (most, not all). And mini-sculptures that help plan enormous ones.

Mini-most things, really.

The photo info is right there on it.

Laughing or crying at a book you’re reading on the subway: everybody sees you; everybody understands.

(photo: Danny Lyon, IRT 2, South Bronx, New York City, 1979)

Sometimes you just want to sit there. This photo of Greta Garbo and a lion reminds me of how the subway feels, sometimes.

It’s been hard doing anything
winter stuck around so long.

I listened to that album on repeat on the train back to the city where I live yesterday. There is melancholy and nostalgia for me in that winter weather record.

It finally feels like spring, though.

Things start to feel possible again, I think, when it’s nice enough to go outside, to do some things.

I kept trying anyhow and I’m still trying now
just to keep working just to keep working
I remember when it didn’t use to be so hard

*

Almost no one makes it out

Things are too convenient, sometimes. I would never be able to fend for myself if things in the universe and/or society actually went seriously for real wild.

These weirdos are weird. And awesome. And make me want to cut bangs, make moody faces and wear hats and long flowing dresses.

Not do a ton of drugs though. But maybe listen to Ledge a couple times on repeat.

True story.

If ever there was a thing at a thrift store that I should have bought, but didn’t, it would be this little thing here. It was a decorative wall hanging, like 3” x 3” or so, and it cost less than $2. And it is a real open-arms-and-low-expectations type of message. And don’t you just wonder what broke that dog’s heart?

The second runner up, if you were wondering, of the thing I wish I’d got at a thrift store but didn’t, would have to be the HUGE multi-medium portrait of Elvis at a Salvation Army in Providence. His coat was fur, his hair was hair, I think there was a medallion. I believe there was even a tuft of chest hair poking out. It was terrifying and I should have made it mine.

Oh regret.

(Photo from the housewares rack in a Savers in Worcester, late 2010)

The above is true, though.

For instance, I was just flustered and rushed when eating a quinoa salad and guess what? Quinoa, all over the desk. And that’s just one example!

Take it slow, and take it easy old girl. You’ve got to know. Take it slow.

(photo from my brother’s old apartment, Thanksgiving-ish, 2010.)

That thing I said earlier about getting fit, jumping rope, etc? Not so much. The Wii Fit told me I have the dexterity of a 48 year old, and you know what? That’s fine by me. Therefore and forevermore, probably: It’s business as usual around here.

(photo from outside a bar full of daytime drinkers, Soho, October 2010.)