economics

i am a big fan of the law of diminising returns.
especially in application to food, men, and birthdays.

think about it.
a scoop of ice cream- not enough.
a pint of mint chocolate chip... pretty bad ass. almost eupohric.
a quart of ice cream- shitting your pants in the morning.

men follow the same trajectory...
meeting when you are out and flirting... ultimate hopeful tease.
first date at a local restaurant- you're in love.
looking at his man-hair on the bathroom floor after you've been shacking for 3 months- disgusting.

however, neither of these is as pronounced as the law in its application to age.

1- you can walk
2- you can talk
3- you can use the toilet
4- you learn to share
5- you write your name
13- you're a teenager, but you get your period
16- you can drive, but you can kill someone in your car
18- you can buy cigarettes and cocktails in new orleans, but you go to big boy jail
21- beer.
25- car insurance goes down, you can rent a car. but you also find your first wrinkle.
30 isn't dirty, but it is the peak of a downward slope.
now that i've cusped 30 what is there to look forward to?
40- decreased libido
45- crows feet become ostrich claws.
49- are you fucking kidding me. half a century only looks good on a classic car.
75- if i were art deco furniture this would be a good year.

when can i join the AARP?

almost always never

my life has become a series of 3 drag cigarettes, missed connections, and the feeling that i have got to get out of here.

so. what else is new?
at least i'm not masking it with prada and marriage... just tom ford and celibacy.

what i got

let's see.
i got a singular desire to kiss my hairstylist (who was born in the 80's mind you) wow. that desire about ended. hadn't conceptualized it in terms of decades until this point.

i got a double fist of mocha ice cream and teddy grahams. oink.

i got a triple threat of an eastern block, string bikinis, and a beach trip next week.

i got four reasons that i am washing dishes by hand:
1. my new apt does not have a dishwasher
2. i like to over-hydrate
3. three different meds for three different things.
4. some things can only be wiped away by the touch of a hand

i've had better.

protecting the innocent

so tonight i went for a drink after yoga with a friend (paradox in action, baby). said friend's sibling who is our bartender says, "there is this guy at the bar, alone, who is so nice. he comes in all of the time... is in the same profession... come meet him."

we make sibling tell friend to come to us.

alone guy (who's not alone anymore) has his friend do a walk by.
(we could feel his check-out 8 bar stools away)
to check out our yogafied ugliness
(i am wearing spandex hot shorts and am 5lbs over the weight limit)
the stroller then tells the bar guy not to make the venture.
(did i mention that i am working my stellar afro tonight)

so we make the effort on the way out the door.
turns out she knows the same profession bar guy.
turns out she heard him telling the story of his divorce and vasectomy via speaker phone at her office about 3 years ago unbeknownst to him.
turns out i don't even have a witty quip for this entire experience.

carry that weight

last night i fully realized that things that come in pint size quantities do not constitute single servings.

not ice cream
not peanuts
not vodka

wish i could have figured it out in a different way, but then it probably wouldn't carry the same weight.

hellodrama

plan 9 from outer space was fabulous.
i love sci-fi.
i love moon pies.
i love stove top pop corn.

faith is making a comeback.

the jeopardy of contentment

i have been obsessed with cragslist since i found both my new apartment and myself on it. i mean, i sit here for hours reading want ads, furniture sales, and missed connections, absolutely content to read about what nashville wants to buy, sell, and be.

i'm thinking of writing a book about it... maybe picking 23 random ads and then turning them into vignettes- along the vein of paris je t'aime (my new favorite movie).

yeah- i can add that to my list of things to do that includes
find a job
fix my car
find some furniture
re-hab my new apartment
pack to move
sell some cds
get a life

poetry when my hair is curly

Mid-Century

Tonight, we stand in front of a theatre,
Built in the era we tried to become.
And neither of us can remember
The name of the movie Forbidden Planet.
In this space, I know why we call
Each other by our full names.

Not even a McCarthian sense of self
Can make us forget that we are cracked
Like the McCoy on grandmother's floor.
Aware that if we had only paid
Attention when placing it on the shelf,
We wouldn't be picking up pieces.

you f*#ked the suburbs out of me

i can not stand going south of old hickory boulevard.
i can not stand going north of trinity lane.
i can not stand going east of briley parkway.
i can not stand going west of briley parkway.
yeah.
think about that.

last week, the parentals made their annual pilgrimage through town. i picked them up from the trailer park east of briley parkway and drove them past my new digs. they loved east nash, but my mom began a lamentation about why her kids don't love the suburbs that lasted the entire way to mafiaoza's.

she can just not understand why we don't love wal*mart, strip malls, and stucco housing.

i can not understand why halfway through dinner she bowed up against my dad to prove that her childhood was shittier than his. i had to stop the madness and explain that if we were going to argue about whose childhood sucked the most, they may not want to have me as a contender.

no more pinot grigio for her.

anyway. i am leaving the suburbs (again).
moving to the 5 points area.
buying mid-century furniture.
quelling my anxiety.
riding my bike to work.
walking to the grocery store.

i just realized where this brown spot on my under-wrist has come from.
computer mouse callous.
no kidding, it's where my hand rests on the desk.
i am a tool.

a tool who just booked her flight to austin, tx.
austin city limits music fest.
sunday only
24 hours in Austin.
yo la tengo.
wilco.
nice.

the reasoning is that i sold my pitchfork ticket and canceled my chicago flight so that i could reasonably afford to move out of the suburbs. i thought i'd only be in b-wood for 6 months... but that slowly turned into 21 months.

so i thought, pitchfork or freedom?
freedom.

now i just have to find a place to stay in austin for one night...
should i risk a festival hook up??
i know.
i won't do it.
i like my body parts where they are.

sometimes i don't get you

i have spent 31 years trying to understand so many things.

i tried to understand my parents.
she cried in the 76 oldsmobile station wagon if she didn't eat by the next damn mile marker.
he told her that she couldn't have dessert on her 45th birthday because she didn't need it.

i tried to understand myself.
my tenuous line between crying and cruelty.

and tonight, after a movie at the belcourt, one last drink at jacksons, and another series of sevens, i determined that i will no longer try to understand. instead i'm just gonna listen.

to the voice that told her to shut up- she wouldn't starve.
to the voice that told him to go fuck himself- it was her birthday.
to the voice that told me to move to gartland avenue- i'm gonna make it.

tempurpedic mattress boy

so mattress boy/man posted this on missing connections on craigslist.
is this really my life?


Katie the high school teacher/Hot Chicken Festival
Reply to: pers-366717751@craigslist.org
Date: 2007-07-04, 9:14PM CDT


Stood in front of you and your friend today (4th.) at the Hot Chicken Festival....enjoyed "entertaining" you....lol. Was the musician whose lived here 10yrs. Must of been the heat but should've asked if you were single and if so, if you'd care to grab a cup of coffee.............????




* Location: East Nash.
* it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests


PostingID: 366717751

golden slumbers

the hot chicken was just that.
and fabulous.

the rommie and i waited in line for eva' to eat some prince's and bolton's while we moaned that we could have just gone to the damn restaurants. but then we wouldn't have met the guy who asked me if i had a posturpedic/memory foam/ no wait... tempurpedic mattress in the middle of our scintillating conversation about mayoral candidates.

just like out of the blue, he asks me about mattresses.
that alone was worth the wait for the hot chicken.
then we went to beyond the edge and played video bar games while i drank too much.
the roomie took us back to the wood.
brentwood that it.
where i won't be living after this month.
i'll be walking home from beyond the edge to my new little bungalow.
2 blocks away.
i am happy.

ennui

i did not send the following e-mail to a man i have never seen before in my life.
but i wrote it.
i have not yet lost my fucking mind.



Subject: referral from XXXX-YYY-ZZZZ

And fortunately for me, not the professional kind.

Bob-

Your e-mail address has been in my purse for about a month now. XXXX-YYY-ZZZZ gave it to me at a dinner party, after she talked about setting me up with "the sweetest young man."

The "sweetest young man" got vetoed, and she then recommended you. She made it clear that she meant no disparagement; she thinks you're fabulous, but not "sweet". That- coupled with the fact that she mentioned you were a runner??- made this little pink piece of paper with your e-mail on it hard to chunk.
But I'm pitching it.
After I send this e-mail.

Bob- If you're feeling a little spontaneous when you wake up this Sunday, I'll be at insert coffee shop on insert street around 11am, before I catch the noon film at the insert theatre. You could walk by, determine if you find me reasonable to look at, and buy me my second cup of coffee.

Milk.
No sugar.
-insert me

minnesota man claims monkey bowled perfect game

that's pretty much about how much sense it makes that i just spent an hour on sunday morning reading about nashville hot chicken.

ritalin anyone?

hot chicken # 7/4

heaven has come to east park in east nash.
that's right, folks. hot chicken on the fourth of july.
they don't even make words to describe the joy i get when my nose runs down my chin after eating 1/2 a jar of jalepenos. to think that mayor purcell would love me enough (i was his daughter's IS teacher) to schedule this little slice o heaven on the fourth of july... i am speechless.
consider a 1/4 chicken, skillet-fried, on some white bread, SLATHERED with hot sauce.
i'm drooling.

if you can handle the heat... take your pick

Prince's Hot Chicken Shack

Location: 123 Ewing Drive, 226-9442

Hours: Noon-10pm Tue-Thu, noon-4am Fri-Sat

Payment: Cash only

Bolton's Spicy Chicken & Fish

Location: 624 Main St., 254-8015

Hours: 11am-9pm Tue-Thu, 11am-12:30am Fri-Sat

Payment: Cash only