Today someone smiled. I smiled too.
Last weekend we were on the guest list at a club in our old city to support a dj friend of ours. There was much thugginess and booty shaking of the young suburban crowd so us elderfolken contented ourselves on the velvet couch to drink until we could tolerate the college booties in our faces. I was such the urban outcast. It was a nice reminder of how at odds I was with my environment before I moved out of that strange linear grid and left its oppressive conformity behind. And ample behinds they were.
Seeing old friends was comforting, because my local closest friend isn�t looking so hot anymore. She�s like Angelina Jolie in Girl Interrupted, and I�m Wynona Ryder whining to my journal about how Lisa is dead inside. �Lisa�s� issues are extreme but it didn�t bother me. So what if she was raised and abused by a kidnapper, her mother is an institutionalized schizophrenic, and she grew up in complete isolation with no friends, no love, and little mental stimulation�She�s my friend. Well, now she�s a vindictive sociopath, raging out of control, and frightening me. A lot. She�s physically abusive, verbally passive-aggressive, and it appears she attempted to sabotage my art during one of her rages at our art studio, but I�m giving her the benefit of the doubt. Every month her behavior gets her fired, and if she�s not fired, she quits. She�s also an alcoholic, but that�s the least of her worries. We�re close, so I�m not surprised that she�s acting out against me, but it sure puts a damper on life. Hopefully she won�t do anything rash. Lately it takes very little to set her off, and I don�t think it has anything to do with me; the trouble is I suspect she doesn�t recognize that. I�m trying not to let it depress me too much.
In the midst of my angst (say that five times fast), my city brings laughter. You know you�re in the right place when you�re shopping in the produce bin and come upon a tower of precariously arranged oranges stacked vertically, defying physics, a random act of fruit foolery by someone as easily entertained as myself. Hilarious. If more adults had the childlike genius and courage to build fruit towers without reason, this would be a better world, my friend.
2:38 a.m. - 2008-02-14