(no subject)

[lastweek]

I don't think I've slept today, really. No, no. There was Art Binge last night. A performance piece that I could not appreciate, other people attempting creative things, and Jane's second-to-last show before moving away to Denmark forever.

I slept little at Alex's before driving home and immediately to the tire shop to get two new tires and an alignment. Walked across the street, ate breakfast alone at the bar of a tiny, tiny, packed greasy spoon. The waitress let me order and finish before walking down the street and around the corner to the ATM so I could pay for my meal. It was windy outside. There were railroad tracks that needed crossing; and it's funny about railroad tracks while walking: I always imagine a sort of Roadrunner cartoon scenario where I look both ways and see long stretches of empty track, but as soon as I step over them, a train comes zooming over me out of nowhere. That didn't happen though.

I get something similar when driving behind cars from where finished cigarettes are flicked. There's always that brief moment where it hits the road, sparks fly, and as soon as it bounces up beneath my car I imagine my car EXPLODING. That hasn't happened yet though.

I have an enormous bruise on my knee, and I don't know where it came from.

Comments

[spacerwoman.livejournal.com]

I hate when people flick their cigarettes out the car window - I imagine the same exploding scenario. I don't know if it's really possible, but, man, there's GASOLINE down there!