dangerous compassions

I call you / from the comet's cradle

Sunday, September 28, 2008

I'd dance if I had something to say

This morning I went to the park. A fly was biting me, so I stayed in the car and wrote a letter to my friend J in Chicago and talked on the phone with my best friend E. It was a different kind of morning. I watched a guy throw a ball and his dog run after it. The guy had a device for picking up the ball and throwing it. I don't know the name of this device.

Then in the afternoon I watched part three of a Lord Peter Wimsey show with Erik Murder Must Advertise. It's spooky and first rate. I read a letter sent to me by my new New Zealander penpal.

Erik finally read functionally ill #4. He read it out loud to me and found a bunch of typos. He likes it. We talked about it for a long time. He reassured me about a few questions I had.

In the evening we went on an outing. We went to the bank to deposit three checks. Then we went to the co-op, and to the rental office to pay the rent. It's downtown.

At the co-op I wanted ground coriander and tarragon. I also wanted chili powder, but theirs didn't seem right--it had allspice and nutmeg in it. We ended up getting some vegan cookies--Erik got chocolate chocolate chip, and I got peanutbutter. And I got some different flavors of soy yogurt. (Trader Joe's has only three flavors, and they get old.) What else? Erik bought himself some sage and juniper soap. I got some Italian dressing to marinade some tofu in.

And that's my day! I experienced some restlessness and ennui. I give it a solid B.

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