The Beauty of my Inbox

A letter from Hawksley Workman:

what will soldiers look like marching down this road? tired and hunkering down as snow drives diagonally from the grey. i used to lay in the snowbank to let snow gather in my beard. there's a fox down the way that seems insane. his eyes are squinty. face fading. last year i watched him pounce on a mouse. he connected easily to his fire then. the sun rises more slowly now. at least that's how it feels. i really need to stop listening to the news. fear is really its own special brand of poison. remember, we're all connected. and the water salesmen must have trouble sleeping at night. i used to believe in so many things. now i believe in cells. damage and reaction to damage. the simple rearrangement of structures and foundations. trees made to grow sideways. that's pain. prolonged pain becomes noise on the horizon. and sometimes it feels so loud i wonder how the sun shines through it all. all those waves of noise. noise so loud you can see it. what will soldiers look like marching down this road? with nano fabrics and stain remover. will their uniforms snap tight? the porcupine lays his quills flat. he gives you way to pass. even as trouble is constant. and what i would have called evil in earlier days, seems to have an artisan energy source. even still, i get lost in the bodies. mostly yours and mine. as politicians and newsmen smile with the words "end times" tattooed on their sparkling teeth, i still consider you more. i want to be a hero in your bed. i thought in days like these i would be strong. a statesman. a fighter. but all i am is yours. cells and all. not complicated. not impossible. not decisive. not upright. a gloriously gathered supply of experiences that have led to us laying naked together this afternoon. we are confused and sad together. we let our beliefs collide. you've been hammered into you. i've been hammered into me. like the mountains and the valleys. not self made. antique hearts. a world of sunglasses warding off the glare. i couldn't have guessed it. and all this time i was reading my books and forming my prayers. all this time i was punishing myself for not letting go. all these years of my own torture. when i was really always my only harbour. all these days of being told not to trust the body. well curse on you connivers for your lies. may the fires have mercy. and as i try for loftier sentiments and more noble wishes, all i end up doing is conjuring up prayers. prayers to sing in our little church of sheets and sweat. our little church of afternoon sunlight and dishevelled blankets. our funny, little church of scattered pillows and fallen clothing. our "Liciousness". our perfect escape. our moments they could never glimpse into. womanlicious. manlicious. godlicious. everylicious.

h.

Tragic yet lovely images.

New City LOVE

Boston. I love everything about this city....except the amount of money I go through every week...DAMN DIRTY NEWBURY COMICS!!!! There are so many young people in this town, I fall in love with a new guy on the T everyday. There's such a great vibe here. The east coast is so relaxed (not NYC of course), I think that's because it's been around for so much longer than the midwest. It's like a retired person, just chillin' and taking it easy. By comparison, Chicago is in its' midlife crisis stage. Maybe when I'm ready to retire Chi will be too and we can both live in subdued harmony.

"Sure you'll make a lot of money but you'll never make time"

I've been working non-stop for the past year, whether I'm doing papers/projects or working at one of my many jobs (Kohl's, hardware store, after school/recess supervising). I have barely had any time to read. Since I'm an English major, it's a given that I love books. But honestly, the last book I read that wasn't required for a class was Jostein Gaarder's The Orange Girl (which was astoundingly good) back in October.

I just bought Michael Ian Black's collection of essays My Custom Van. Honestly, it is probably the most hysterical book I've ever read (although I do have a soft spot in my heart for the Angus series). It is similar to David Sedaris' books, but much more outlandish and outright funny. I've only read half of it so far, and I am going to save the rest of the essays for a later date because I think I may honestly cry when I'm done.

Thus, I went to the library today to add more books to my summer reading pile. So far, I have:

The Complete Stories of Truman Capote (finish reading)
The Virgin Blue by Tracy Chevalier
The Arsonists Guide to Writers' Homes in New England by Brock Clarke
My Uncle Oswald by Roald Dahl
Less Than Zero by Bret Easton Ellis
The Christmas Mystery by Jostein Gaarder
Maya by Jostein Gaarder
Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen
On The Road by Jack Kerouac
Everything's Eventual by Stephen King
Kim by Rudyard Kipling
The Song of Names by Norman Lebrecht
The Museum of Dr. Moses by Joyce Carol Oates

I have some work to do...only one and a half months left to read all these books! I have a lot more on my shelves that I still have to read as well. I really can't lug all of these across the country when I move at the end of August.

When I Grow Up...

I'll know I'm a bona fide adult when I have a standing subscription to Consumer Reports.

The Absurdity of Retail

Being an English major, I understand the power of a carefully placed word more than anyone. So why on this green earth would anyone have chosen to name a brand of clothes aimed towards the over 50 woman "Sag Harbor"?! Of all things. SAG? Reallllly???!!! That sounds like a comment a witty 16 year old would make about his great aunt. "Her metaphorical boat has docked permanently in Sag Harbor".

The thing that really makes me laugh is the tagline for the brand. On the clothing tags it says "Sag Harbor: The Clothes I Wear". The clothes you wear why? "The clothes I wear...because my twins went south for the winter eight years ago and have yet to return".

Some guy over at the Kellwood Company must high five himself every morning knowing that he successfully marketed a frump brand of clothing under the name "Sag Harbor". Bravo, dude.

Terrible music fills my days....

Both of my jobs have satellite radio stations with a select group of "appropriate" songs. The hardware store has always played some complete crap, but Kohl's does play one terrifyingly and terribly troublesome song that the hardware store would never dare add to it's playlist because it reeks of shit.

This list will probably be lengthened, but here are the top three worst songs I have to hear just about everyday at work:

No. 1
(Keep Feeling) Fascination by The Human League
This song truly makes me cringe. I dunno if it is the awful duets or the awkward rhythms, but it's bad. Oh it is so, so bad! And not in the way that many 80s favorites are, in that they're so crappy the round the bend and become sorta good. Not that you'd ever admit that you actually like it or anything (such as this gem by Hall and Oates). But honestly, "Fascination" may just ruin music entirely for me if I continue to hear it multiple times a night at Kohl's. The hardware store has some shit music on the radio, but they'd never stoop so low as to play The Human League.

No. 2
Glory of Love - Chicago (or maybe just Peter Cetera. I don't care enough to research it anymore)
Woah! WOAH! This starts out crappy and slow but then it intensely builds up to a full fledged shit show. The terrible quality remains throughout. I had to listen to this every freakin' saturday at least three times a day when I worked during high school. I must say I love the arbitrary pictures that someone set to this song on the youtube video. Somehow the comments are all praising it. Maybe I'm the only one who despises this song (very doubtful).

No. 3
Walk Between the Raindrops - Fagen Donald
I'm shocked I found this song on youtube. I don't have a distinct reason for hating it, other than thinking its just too kitschy for its own good. Also it gets stuck in my head really easily and it is NOT something I ever want to hear. And also...the lyrics make no sense. Walk between the raindrops?! Seriously Fagen Donald, who I had never heard of until I did a lyric search two minutes ago, what does walking between the raindrops entail? Fuck you.

More to come. People will keep writing terrible music, satellite radios at places I work will insist on playing it, and I will despise it.

"That is one giant rain bong!"

In addition to working at Kohl's, I also work at the local hardware store. This job is definitely preferable. My manager said the title quote while referring to this stupid product. It is an unnecessarily huge "rain bong". Honestly now! Working retail you learn that there is a plethora of stupid crap for sale in this country and there are even more people stupid enough to buy it.