Some tiny creature, mad with wrath,

Is coming nearer on the path.

--Edward Gorey

Location: Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, U.S. Outlying Islands

Writer, lawyer, cyclist, rock climber, wanderer of dark residential streets, friend.

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

Renewing Familiar Refrains, or, My Two Favorite Women in Blogspace

Needless to say, I've been more than a little overwhelmed with work, the impending closing on my first home, the sudden injection into the mix of a best friend who has accepted my invitation to weather a little housing storm at my new digs (which actually improves my situation financially a great deal, but still adds an additional layer of complication (although, to be fair, there are offsetting benefits as well -- e.g., he's available in the few days between my closing and my full-bore move to meet workmen when I'm not) to an already complicated situation, and it's told on the frequency of my postings here, as it probably will continue to do until September (not to mention I may not have an internet connection at the new home right away).

I'm still a consumer, however, even when I'm not a producer, and even when I don't really have the time. Those of you who so generally grace me with your attention would be wise, as I've suggested in the past, to keep up with two of my favorites.

Zulieka is posting only infrequently as she recovers from the birth of her daughter and adjusts to her new role as a mother. As she makes abundantly clear, however, she's not a housewife. In any event, I continue to enjoy whatever she finds time to write a great deal, and I urge you to check it out.

The one that's really getting me, however, is Flagrant. I really can't emphasize how vibrant, how unbelievable articulate and compelling, her blog has become. Evidently (anything a reader says about her life needs to be qualified in preface by "evidently" or something of that ilk), she's landed some sort of hard core position as a spokesmodel or something.

in a round-about way, i was offered a high paying job yesterday.
people accepted for me, prior to even asking if i was interested.


they said: we thought, 'why would anyone decline?'
they said: we just automatically told them you would do it.
they said: it's not like it's really any work.
they said: you can do [it] at the same time you do [something else].

note: have yet to tell anyone how much this annoys me.
having no voice = a main building block of [my] anorexia

Suddenly, she's gallavanting all over the place, has a fantastic apartment in Asia somewhere, and continues to spin lyric webs like this:

a young woman looked at me. no big deal. i have a strange appearance, possibly was the tallest female in the store, and even weirder is that i wear a nuclear jacket during atomic summers. very old fashioned (and never any fun they say!), a tank top belongs in the car and not on the sidewalk or in the shop. even though i had the only legal arms on the street, extended sleeves were essential.

chuck (who on average picks up 50 thorns a week) was in the market for two inexpensive mountain bike tires and replacement slime tubes, but weekend shoppers had attacked the store and remaining choices hanging from the rack started at $50 each. i looked toward the clearance section and noticed two women were watching at me. they immediately looked away as i sighed and looked back at down the shelves.

... and chuck and i shopped
... and people look at each other
... it's alright
... that's what people do
... but it isn't because this isn't a cow town!
... and people aren't all hi-how-are-you have-a-great-day
... look, there's another double take!
... and stop fucking gawking at me!
... but eye contact is reserved for mad dogging here
... or strange human flirtation rituals
... and i don't dance with girls, you know?

teenaged boy syndrome.

consider: (strange other option i somewhat believe)
they are familiar with a product i represent.

consider: (strange third option i never believe)
i own dents to end all dents.

All the while, she seems like she's heading down some frightful spiral:
the card hidden up my sleeve says that iv fluids (dextrose, glucose) are corn based and therefore my allergies cannot tolerate them. shucks resident doctor #4, i mean scooter, even when tied up, gagged, and blind i can still win the inpatient argument.

bad = good, he insists he has learned an awful lot from me.

consider: hospitalization jumped the table from consideration to threat.
consider: drinking tap water at home for free?
consider: drinking tap water in a motorized bed for $$$$ a day?
consider: becoming one of those idiots hospitalized for exhaustion.

I don't know how real this is, how average this is for Flagrant, or anything else. I also apologize for the extensive quotations; I'd minimize them if she made permalinks to her posts available, but she does not.

The point is this: she writes brilliantly, lives, or writes as though she lives, a fascinating life. And comments with wit and insight on all manner of things. All the while, she's just connected enough to be sympathetic without being maudlin or tawdry; there's none of that creepy reality TV I-don't-need-to-see-this ambivalence for me, perhaps principally because she so thoroughly disguises herself.

I'll be back soon, I promise, but I'll probably never write as coherent or compelling a blog as either of the above. So perhaps I should ask all of you to come back; I feel like McDonald's urging you to try a local steakhouse notorious for delivering grade A beef on short notice for implausible prices.

(And of course it's not like I really won't be around at all; my posts will just be severely diminished for a while.)


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