Let's Begin this Week with a List, Eh?
1) Someone set a truck on fire in front of my house Thursday at 1:30 in the morning. Have you ever seen a brand-new F250 go up in flames 25 feet from your kimono-print couch? It's pretty wild. From bumper to bumper, a blanket of billowing orange flames. Lovely, in a post-apocalyptic way. Unfortunately, I was too entranced by the idea that the truck would explode to dig my camera out of the door. Your loss, obviously.
2) My dog has a bacterial infection in her armpit. Treatment involves stuffing pills down her throat for the next 10 days. She is not amused.
3) The upstairs of the Rickshaw smelled like baby poo all afternoon on Saturday thanks to the Pipsqueak-a-Go-Go. Rock on.
4) You know what helps diabetes-related freakouts? Talking to people. Especially: Megan, your awesome E.R. nurse housemate/friend, and Peter, the raddest man ever to drink lemonade in your backyard, and Michelle, the coolest NEA-grant-winning lady poet in Aptos.
5) Michelle seems to be a hummingbird magnet. When we planted seeds Friday afternoon one kept on buzzing a foot or two away from her.
6) When Peter met Michelle and Phyllis and me for lunch at 817 Friday afternoon, I don't think that he realized he'd get entrenched in a ladytime conversation regarding the political/sociological ramifications of the movie "Stick It." He was a good sport about it.
7) You know who I hate? Punk Rock Justin Timberlake (PRJT). Elly and I had a crush on this supergay danceaholic about a year ago, but he has turned into a megawanker since then. When I did the door at the Rickshaw Friday night he insisted on brushing my right shoulder every time he walked in from smoking a cigarette in this overly friendly, flirty way, even though he is so gay it's not even funny. Why? Why, PRJT?! I know you know you're cute. But I DO NOT CARE. Just stop bumping my shoulder already.
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PRJT
8) Here is a good source for dinner: The Temescal Farmers' Market.
What you do is you buy some freshly made spinach fettucine, some garlic quark, some asparagus, some leeks, some shitake mushrooms, and then you throw it all in a big bowl after some preliminary stove time. Then you eat it on some hottie's deck while drinking wine. Good times.9) Up in the garden: snow peas, gladiola, scarlet runner beans. Popping/fruiting: rhubarb, strawberries, radishes, broccoli, brussel sprouts. Holding steady: swiss chard, cauliflower, artichokes. Doing rather eh: The lettuces. All eaten by the damn snails. I hate them.
10) Need to do this week: work on book proposal, continue editing Greater Good, look into whether or not hiking boots really are improperly sized, and remedy this with quick buying action. Go to yoga class. Really. Get your stupid, overthinking head to yoga class.
posted by Elka @ 2:56 PM
6 Comments:
Wait, are you are talking about our local JT-type guy that is in a band that I am not going to call out? Confused...and wanting to know more.
He was at the bar Friday night when you come in. He's blonde and has a fauxhawk (SO past its time, obvs). He kind of looks like JT. He works at the Crossroads on Market Street. Does that help at all?
Oooh...ok, I thought maybe you were talking about Will from Hey Willpower! since he has that whole JT sound (but not look going on) going on, now I see.
No no, totally not Will! I would never say terrible things like that about Will!!
Punk Rock Justin T. is probably just trying to be friendly and familiar/ chummy/ in-with-the-chill-Rickshaw-staff in his own forced and slightly inappropriate idiom. You could brush back and make clear that you don't want the contact in a way that's playful yet meaningful. Regulars should always get the benefit of the doubt until they become truly skeezy.
Hiking boots should be light and worn in. If you get new ones, wear them for at least a week or two straight before GC.
oh, such sweet advice, my loving decision bully.
(kidding!)
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