No, I haven't grown a ponytail. These hair ties have been wrapped around my doorknob since we moved in. Strange, considering every other inch of this house had been renovated, refurbished, repainted. I guess they must be left over from whoever lived in this room last. A woman? Maybe the same one who subscribed to all the clothing catalogs we now receive.
This week was particularly marked by seclusion. Tuesday night was interesting; I met a couple new people at Chet's film night, and had a satisfying conversation with Joe. He's swinging back into my life in a big way, it seems, a year after I met him in a Greyhound station. The fact that he gets drunk and rambles at me on a regular basis, as well as the fact that we live around the corner from each other, probably helps.
Summer's fading. You can tell by the color of the sunlight. I can wear my jackets again. It's been raining for two days, causing my bike to skid out from under me when I braked for a red light today. No big deal. Apologies to Craig Finn, but this hasn't exactly been a constructive summer--I've been staying in far too much. Some people just weren't made for mass movements and camaraderie, but at least I'm slowly beginning to accept myself as such.
1 comment:
Ahhh! Isn't that ponytail holder freaky? Our place was also cleaned up, except for this slice of cheap purple gemstone sitting on the ledge above the kitchen door. I keep thinking it's a hole into another dimension or a really big spider, but it's just some girl's idea of display casing. I see you've left those ponytail holders on the door. Good. Don't disturb the home they have found...for a little while, at least.
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