Hejira
c'mon get happy
April 7. 2000

dark and mysterious, that's meI had to make a jaunt to South Street today, which, although I didn't think so at the time, was a very wonderful, satisfying and calming experience.

The uncalming aspect of the evening was that I made the stupid decision of driving down rather than taking public transportation. It was Friday night, and First Friday at that, so traffic was bad and it was hard to find a parking space (even harder for me with my lack of parallel parking skills). But oh, it was a beautiful, windy, sunny day. Lovely in every way. South Street was crowded, with so many people with so many different textures and colors. All the smells, the sounds, the sights seemed to intensify. I wanted to soak them up like a sponge.

Buying art supplies makes me happy. Today it was some more Carandache crayons (did I mention I'm addicted to them? oooh such color), which although being expensive (92 cents each), are so worth it. Unfortunately, I beat the hell out of them when I use them, and they're being consumed more quickly than I'd like. I also climbed up to the 3rd floor and purchased a 26x40 300 lb. piece of watercolor paper for my final self portrait for drawing. So thick and lovely. And I think I was undercharged for my purchase, it came to only about $20. Which is nice. I am not complaining.

I stopped at the Book Trader a block down, which is a wonderful, huge used book shop, complete with several friendly cats who will sneak up on you unexpectedly as you are reading. I found myself in the religion section on the second floor, and located some good stuff, and sat down in one of random chairs strewn here and there on the hardwood floor. One of the windows was open, and you could hear the sounds and traffic in the street. A thin gray cat with big yellow eyes sauntered past me, and let me pet her. She looked vaguely like Charcoal, only thinner and not as friendly as he is.

Next was to my culinary obsession of the moment, Frite. Nice place, good fries, excellent dips and free refills on all Pepsi products. The guy who works there and I have a good rapport, he recognizes me because even though I live on the other side of town I manage to get to Frite at least once every two weeks. Despite our good relationship, I still don't know his name, I mentally refer to him as "the nice guy who works in Frite".

Fridays have become my work on stuff night, while Saturday has become my go out and have a social life night. It's nice to finally establish a schedule of my own, and it's to my advantage because the dorms are absolutely dead on Friday nights. NO ONE is around. So that's the night for art, laundry, internet stuff and long phone calls. I listen to NPR talk shows, imagine I am terribly cultured, cerebral and intelligent. Sometimes I order a pizza with all the meat they can pile on top of it.

So I'm thinking maybe my life is shaping up into something I actually like.

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all writings, (c) 1999-2000, BRR