strange dreams courtesy of AEROS, a romanian gymnastics collective that performed at uc davis last night. at one point the troupe crab-walked, a la linda blair in the exorcist, in white body suits under black light. as their extremities were invisible, they looked like a living dali painting: limbless, headless forms limping about to a soundtrack of abstract jazz. one wonders how it must feel to go from the olympics to something like that.
having moderate success with sonnets; i've promised myself that i'll send a few pieces away by the end of the month. cheap way to fill the hours of waiting for job calls, you see.
on names, or the sort of anecdote one might want to skip if gratuitous autobiography annoys:
an hour ago, i'm bent double with a craving for candy: i liken it to a pregnant woman's midnight need for bologna and chocolate, or something. joe refuses to accompany me but requests almond roca, so i dash off to walgreen's for said roca and sour straws (it was a very specific urge).
at the door, i get a huge HELLO HOW ARE YOU DOING? from a guy with a cup of soda. i figure he's an evangelist or some such, so i escape to the candy aisle, where i get the same HOW ARE YOU DOING? from three employees. i notice the soda guy is following me. CAN I HELP YOU FIND SOMETHING? i'm thinking i must look like a shoplifter, or i forgot my pants. no, everyone's just creepy-nice. i ask for almond roca and the three start handing me jordan almonds, mocha bars, hershey's with almonds. i'll just keep looking myself, but thank you. now a couple has joined me and soda guy and the three. "what are you looking for? we've got to know." almond roca, which is not really that important to me, but now it's a kind of quest. "it's our quest now, too." they're very solemn. they're handing me candy. i grab a heath bar and flee.
mister soda is outside, waiting. CAN I ASK YOU SOMETHING? WOULD YOU GO OUT WITH ME SOMETIME? oh, he was just nervous. okay. i live with someone, actually, but thank you. that's very flattering. OH, SO YOU'RE SEEING SOMEONE? he's processing. i start for home. YOU'RE VERY PRETTY! and he follows me for the next two blocks.
i'm quite nondescript, actually, so this little attention blizzard wasn't a beauty queen moment. joe confirmed that there was no snot on my face or clothing missing, so...ABNER strikes again.
i told my sister that i enjoy personalized stuff with names other than mine, so she bought me this dubious pair of red satin underwear and painted ABNER in glittery script across the front. i've only hit the streets in ABNER a few times; when i do, this shit happens. i dress conservatively and keep my head down, but ABNER's influence persists.
i apologize for the long story about knickers, but it's cathartic to share.
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