a day like any other
June 14, 2005 / 4:23 p.m.
When you have a pack of cigarettes at your disposal, it provides a small but pleasing detail to your day... the first cigarette in the morning.
I find that the more mild deoderants seem to work for a while, until the chromium aluminate or whatever it is that lets the strong ones work wears completely out of your armpit after many showers and is left to nothing but the devices of what the healthy deoderant has to offer. in other words, back to the rightguard shit that probably kills you with its ingredients, but also seems to actually work.
My day was supposed to begin with meeting amanda at 12 at pepino's for cheap burritos, but it fell through. She didn't pick up her phone. DIdn't answer. She's still grieving her love interest lost, so i didn't push it. Actually, i stopped by her house after ringing twice, so maybe i did. There was a man... totally schizophrenic, asking for cigarettes and warbling down the sidewalk on morrisson as i walked for the bus.. he had a dime and two pennies, and either didn't seem to understand that i didn't want any money for a cigarette, or didn't accept it. One of the pennies trickled out of my hand as the exchange was made, and he walked off mumbling as i asked him if he needed a light, and sat down on the bus bench, and i walked towards the next stop. There were scars across his face.
I arrived at the stop at called heather to see if she wanted to hang out, since she was unemployed, who was working at kinko's on her break. 'how did you get that job?' oh, i just applied online and they hired me. maybe you're just not outgoing enough when you interview for jobs. 'you're probably right'
i was downtown at the library. I entered the caption contest for the new yorker, i found some jobs on craigslist and fired of a few resumes, i started to apply for kinkos online, but was cut off halfway through the process because the time was just too short.
m has lent me her laptop for a few minutes, so that i can update my online journal. she's sitting across from me right now in powell's, with high expectations. i think i'll also use the opportunity to find that person i was talking with via email about a writing group a few months ago, and also to.. actually, i don't have anything else to do.
before m. got here, i was sitting, drinking my decaf coffee, and finally starting a novel, when a pretty girl sat down next to me and thus ruined any hope i had of concentrating on the book. i put my glasses back on my face and watched people walking along burnside.
overcast days in the summer are really depressing, somehow. not that in portland they are unexpected, but regardless.
as i was waiting around at home for some inspiration, i walked by a couple of army guys in the full uniform, pondering all the potential recruits across the street at the high school who were on lunchbreak. actually, one black kid in saggy pants ended up walking up to them and getting into a car and driving away, waving to his friends as he was kidnapped off to the recruiting station for some further prodding.
i told the whole story to m. as i saw it happen, from my second story looking out down onto the street, and now we're sitting across from each other at powells each looking out the window, but i'm going back to my computer screen, and she's going back to her book that she picked out to browse at.