November 2002

All Over

Day done died (almost done dying) in the West & it's only 5:30. But hell, it's November so what do you expect?

Alas, I expect more of the same—& then a little worse. It's cozy enough in the lamplit Starbucks—only the Odd Woman (?) down the row distracts/detracts from my felicity. Possibly full-tilt crazy, but maybe not, maybe just — well, I don't want to stare, or lean closer to try to make out the sub-vocal soliloquy. The rest of us don't look that prosperous or sane either. The baseball-hatted reader (can't tell sex) with the table banner that says: Ask me about half-price gifts. I do not ask.

Then two readers plus one writer choffing a big piece of cake, even though she's disgusted by how fat she's getting. (Guess who.)

But also sitting here singing along with the music from time to time.

—After a 4 day week, this morning I was having so much trouble with my Reading Comprehension that I feared for my brain. I'd like to say I got over it, but I can't & if I did, I don't know that I'd believe me. —However, if I have more trouble reading when I go home, I'll blame it on the turbid prose of the pagan historian. The guy’s inclusive, not clear.

15th Ave Starbucks 11/2/02

I Like This Place

Clean, well-lighted & the chairs are pushed together in interesting (?) clusters. I mean unfathomable. Well, that's interesting. You keep dropping the lead line, hand over hand...

And the music—Jared’s working, so we get R&B (& Neil). Outside leaves like crumpled bag paper falling from the trees. Warm & windy. A rain kissed promise—& I'm in the café under a spotlight. That dramatic pool. So I'm happy. Goethe-light in my wasser-glass!

Getting-off-work time and...oh oh I said the unmagic word & the ptero-duck-tile swoops down & bites my head off. Back into it after 3 weeks & sick of the whole business. Even 4 day weeks are too much.

In the world of writing: nothing. And increasingly, nothing seems likely.

15th Ave Starbucks 11/5/02

Dispirited or Anguished

Anguished earlier, merely dispirited now, after a ride (a free ride) on the 43. Misery loves company? Not this mis, but my painterly eye was intrigued by the glum light cast by the grim (dim) fluorescent lights on the bus—in the rain. Oh & people missed their stops (you wanted Galer?) because they couldn't see where they were—in the full dark of 5 p.m.—in the raiiin.

*

I suppose I was lucky being able to walk all the way to the Montlake Library before the rain started. With the wind blowing the last leaves down & the dark clouds scudding & the crows squawking about it. But I didn't feel lucky. I don't feel anything but: finished. This is a mood that's good for smoking & reading & waiting till it passes, if it passes. (I miss smoking.)

I'd like to paint the rows of cold, dark, shabby & yet beautiful-in-their-youth young bus riders. All green-tinged &.moody.

15th Ave «Bucks 11/9/02

In the Waning Days of the Empire

Marietta keeps playing practical jokes on her friends & when necessary (because some of the jokes aren't quite nice), makes new friends. "Never say die," we all said, as the armies massed at Armageddon.

Waiting for the Barbarians? And, yes, the next dark ages. I'm betting on Chile-Argentina-Brazil. But I'm not betting much. (There's also Khan-Land if it will rain.).

It's funny, as if the curtain has to fall & then rise again. Well, yes or the lights dim & then brighten to reveal new groups on stage. But it doesn’t really…

Imagine (from the ruins), the cities before Athens, Sparta (Beijing?): Troy, Çatal Hüyük, Mohenjo-Daro as they were abandoned. Who was the last to leave?

Imagine the new coastline 20 years from now. Shall I stick around to see it? Sure

*

Today is Ghost-time Sunday. Mostly cloudy in 3 shades of gray, even some white like fine muslin. A walk in the 4 o'clock gloam...lots of cats & all winners—esp. super-silky torti-Mas on Federal. Two "blues" — one cousin to Lady Jane, one in a Russian-bunny-fur coat. Two skinnies who came to psspsspss.

And a flake of moon up in a frayed spot in the clouds, high in the southern sky. A chip from the moon that shone on Mohenjo-Daro.

15th Starbux 11/10/02

& News: Sara tells me that Lee is moving back to Michigan. His dad came & got his furniture. I'd better go call him right now.

Burned Tonight

The coffee is burned tonight & I think I will not write down the 2 funny things I found in the dictionary (looking for derivation of above & something in the Fs) & the one funny thing I made up (not very funny, but you know me); maybe next time, for I've already forgotten the first fun word (lit., related to funereal or funambulist)...instead I will drink my charred coffee and ah eat my cake...and when I've finished eating my cake, I'll get distracted by the girl talking in heavily accented English over on my left. There is also, on my right, a little bald schlump in a blue windbreaker (escapee from a halfway house) muttering to himself (probably about the witch seated to his left.)

Nearly same walk as yesterday, only short on cats. Only one today, a black one. And he just sat there, immune to my charms. But it didn't rain & I didn’t fall or step in dog-do & here I am, ready to go back to work. (Not!)

I talked to Lee last night. He sounded pretty good, though he complains of terminal constipation & urine dribbling. Gah-rosss! I said, sympathetically. He's moving back to Michigan in 2 weeks. To put the zoo in Kalamazoo. Has a place to live, not with his mom, with friends. I guess. So I'll be rid of him. If he's going to die, it won't be in my lap.

O fuck, it's just another little bit of the coastline nibbled away (Only this is already a very small island. O man, no man.)

15th Ave «Bux 11/11/02

Worth Remembering

Whether it's worth anything, I have had a dream or two.

There were all these cougars. Out back. The fields were full of them—this was some place like rural Connecticut or Ireland. They were playing with the housecats—most of them (the cougars) were small, maybe half again the size of a large cat—about the size of the snow leopard at Pt. Defiance zoo. I was very concerned because as everybody knows, cougars eat housecats. But these were just playing with them—maybe they were young'uns. And they were so beautiful. Mixed feelings.

Then, several others but gone now. Bad work dreams no doubt. And I dreamed about Lee?? or...someone else, someone from long-ago. I recall the old familiar, "ooh—he hasn't changed a bit."

*

Overcast Sunday but not cold & not raining at 3:30 & I walked north & by the time I turned to come back, the sun was turning the bottoms of the fat gray clouds rose pink & the hollows had purple shadows like tired eyes.

15th Ave Starbs 11/17/02

Another Track Laid Down

But no trains runnin.

Friday night after Thanksgiving is just like Saturday. Two (more) sunny days after thick fog in the morning. I went for a walk past many closed stores yesterday. People strolling, many carrying round dishes covered with foil. In fact, I saw a guy on Mercer with what looked like a pie in one hand & his skateboard in the other.

Too late for Starbucks, I went into Safeway to buy a cup of coffee & on the way out saw the stalwarts of the Fire Dept. bustling around a man—oh dear—down on the floor & seemingly unconscious. The Assistant Manager. Hope he got time & a half.

*

Then I talked to Liz & finished Stephen J. Gould's last book. Either he was getting tired there toward the end—or I was. Well, he had the cancer & now he's dead, so I can't write to tell him—

I have nothing to say anyway. The lady Latin teacher has another tut-boy and says: "I seized, I have seized." I miss Lee. I have the "COLF" glass (it may be LOLF) & don't have anybody to razz. Should write him a letter.

15th Starb's 11/28/02