Artful Scheme of Happiness

Assault and Pepper

This morning, I was standing and waiting for the bus, as I do every morning. And a drunk woman strolled up to me and asked me for a cigarette. Well, I don't smoke. So I told her that I didn't have a cigarette. That wasn't quite good enough for her, so she cuddled up to me, put her head on my chest, told me how drunk she was and asked me for a cigarette.

I guess she'd given all her cigarettes and money away while on her bender (that was her story), but now she was having that old familiar nic fit, so she needed a cigarette.

So she asked me what I did for a living. "I'm a translator." (Never tell them the truth.) Do you work downtown? "Yes." (Sometimes the truth is OK.) "Well I have a great idea? Do you know how to drive? Drive us downtown? Here's my car key. I can't drive right now, but you can drive us downtown. I have a Pathfinder, and it's licensed and everything. C'mon, we gotta get cigarettes."

By this time she was giving me a big old hug, cuddling up to me and pressing herself into me. A total flirt. So here we are, snuggling at the bus stop when the bus finally rolls up. I disentangle myself and get on the bus, wishing her the best of luck in all her future endeavours. And she gets on the bus right after me and asks the driver if she can make an announcement.

"Does anyone on this bus have a cigarette? I need a cigarette. I'm drunk!" Silence. People look at me and wonder why I have abandoned my snuggle-partner. "What? You all just sit there? NONE of you has a cigarette?" At this point she was pushed off the bus by the driver. Sigh of relief.

You know, I think for the price of a cigarette I could have had one extremely wild time this morning. If you know what I mean.

posted by art @ 8:37 AM

Recurring with a Vengeance

Holy cow, my tuberculosis is back and this time it means business! Or whatever the line is, I can't quite remember in my weakened state.

I feel awful. I felt awful all weekend. I am supposed to start my scuba diving lessons tonight but I don't know how that's even going to be possible. I was supposed to start working 60 hour weeks today, but that's clearly just NOT going to be possible. I was supposed to have a fantastic birthday yesterday, and despite the valiant efforts of my friends and family, that was not possible either.

So clearly this illness is REAL AND DEADLY SERIOUS, and nothing like the illness of the little kid in Shel Silverstein's poem. ("What? What's that you say? You say today is Saturday? Goodbye, I'm going out to play.")

I am hoping a diet high in Twinkies and Girl Scout Thin Mint cookies will provide me with the energy I need to pull through this ordeal. But I'm not keeping my fingers crossed.

posted by art @ 11:13 AM

Building Smiles

I went to the dentist today to have a porcelain overlay put onto one of my molars. It's beautiful, if slightly off color. That's ok though, it's only there until I can scrape together the funds for an overlay carved out of a single flawless diamond. That should be any day now, I figure.

My trip home was fantastic. It was good to see everyone I did see, although I always wish there had been more time to see more people. I didn't feel like exhausting myself though, so I kept it fairly simple.

So, I recently purchased a pair of BRIGHT orange suede tennis shoes. Pumas. They're very hip (some might, and others would, say tragically hip). So far I have managed to shock the whole of the Detroit and Minneapolis airports, a fair number of arty types on the Oshkosh Art Walk, and at least three-quarters of the people I work with in Seattle. It's so funny to see them check out my shoes (the eyes get very big), then check out who exactly I am, then sort of grimace in a funny way.

I suppose it wouldn't help to tell these people that my shoes are BIG IN EUROPE.

posted by art @ 6:21 PM

safe and sound

I'm here, I'm queer ... ahh, it's good to be home.

posted by art @ 8:09 AM

Vaterland

Yes, in a few hours I will be winging my way towards the wintry Midwest. Quite a reversal of fortunes, seeing as how the crocuses and camellias are blooming in both Seattle and Paris. But the joy of seeing my family will more than make up for all the missed blooms, I am sure.

Nothing fun to report, unless you count the crazy old drunk with the cane on my bus the other day. He kept yelling about how he wanted to see a Clint Eastwood movie on the bright and shiny 18" Panasonic television in his room, room 108, at the Greenlake Motel. Seriously, he went into great detail as to the wondrousness of both Mr. Eastwood (and Mr. Charles Bronson) AND MORE IMPORTANTLY the clarity and vibrancy of the color on his 18" Panasonic television.

Whatever it takes, I figure. As long as they leave me alone.

posted by art @ 10:09 PM