i ran it and i'm sore.

do you see my kitty in the picture?

i superhero'd people yesterday. cape-tested and de-villainized. i think people lawyers in park slope really need to know that there's a location in their zip that works hard to find their humanity.

i went to a lawyer party in park slope the other day. we played catchphrase:

attorney: a part of this word is the latin name for law.
us [stupefied]: ?

answer: lex luthor. the other attorneys, said, OOOOhhhh.

fucking watch some tbs sometime, yo.

i do enjoy volunteering at the store...i get a little nervous...interacting with people is odd. being NICE to people is even weirder.

kidding. i'm nice. sort of. kind of...on my good days.

ps
crush on sarah vowell. crush on ira glass.

The Clairvoyance of Banner Ads...

Brooklyn feels much smaller having run through parts of it.

I ran across the Brooklyn Bridge

for the first time on Saturday. It qualifies as one of those romantic moments with the self...and not in that skin-like, battery-operated kind of way.

11 miles.

---

We had our writing salon on obsession.

Richard Simmons collects cats, dolls...other things I can't remember. But really, are you all that surprised that Mr. Simmons is a cat- and doll-collector? Yeah, it surprises me too.

---

I think the writing project on loss is getting to me.

I love Crown Heights. But I'm seriously considering moving. It's a big move, because I'm not considering moving with people, I'm thinking of moving in with strangers. It might be easier on all fronts of the dirty dishes battles.

I'm looking at several neighborhoods...at the top of the list is Fort Greene. I like the artsy, thirty-something not-Park Slope vibe with the good eats in the neighborhood. I like how there are lots of brown people. (Am I allowed to say that? I said it...OUT LOUD.) But I also am hearing the call of Queens...which is hard for me. I love love LOVE Brooklyn. But I feel like...Queens is where thirty-somethings move to. Thirty-somethings that aren't in publishing or advertising...and isn't that me? Me-ish? But I don't know if I can say good-bye to Brooklyn...

Other neighborhoods: Greenwood Heights, Sunset Park, South Slope, Prospect Heights...

I'm bored with Sarah Palin...

But I think the boredom is a defense mechanism...last Sunday's NYT front page article about her scared the shit out of me.

...Ms. Palin handled the crisis with a street fighter’s guile.

“I told her it looks like she did the same thing that Randy Ruedrich did,” Mr. Jenkins recalled. “And she said, ‘Yeah, what I did was wrong.’ ”

Mr. Jenkins hung up and decided to forgo writing about it. His phone rang soon after.

Mr. Jenkins said a reporter from Fairbanks, reading from a Palin news release, demanded to know why he was “smearing” her. “Now I look at her and think: ‘Man, you’re slick,’ ” he said.

After I read the article I felt the way I had felt only a few times before...in high school I sat in the principal's office as he threw accusations at me (which weren't true), and I, not having any sort of authority or power to counter him, felt a deep disillusionment about authority. This was nothing like the phonies in Catcher in the Rye. This was my first visceral experience of the abuse of power. [Note: Discuss this experience with therapist...] [Note on note: Get a therapist...]

Woman scares me, the way the twins in the hallway scene from The Shining scare me. No...not not The Shining...Children of the Corn!

She could eat my face. She could eat YOUR face...she could eat our country's face.

i felt sorry for mccain last thursday.

in a nyt article michelle williams said, I think I stopped feeling creative a while ago, and I’m just realizing it now.

when do you realize that what you pursued because it felt right is now feeling wrong? do you let yourself see this?

(huh, mccain? huh?)

(huh, holly? huh?)

it's hard to form a paragraph with three supporting sentences and a concluding one.

for a moment the sirens outside sounded like an aria (and for a moment the ache in my chest was reaching for it as if it were a sound a sad singer would sing).