First, a picture of a streetwise little kitten living across the street from the Watts Towers in Los Angeles. Photo taken on Labor Day by ______. This scruffy little creature's home's front yard is strewn with flattened cardboard boxes. He/she looks like Seymour did when he was a skinny little kitten.
Tonight, old things make a reappearance in my living room. New ways of organizing arise and uplift. Tomorrow, it is the day before the weekend before the day, the week before the show, the calm before the change in weather.
I like blueberry pancakes and the color green. I like black, orange, and blue. I'm full of frozen yogurt from the Student Union. Trumpets. Vertical blinds. Collisions between jaywalkers and speeding bicyclists. Football players signing autographs for men in the shadows with glossy posters and Sharpies. Just another manic Thursday. It's the first day. Of the rest of my/your life.
A mysterious commenter has left me elusive comments. Who is s/he?
I remember, in 1998, standing on the rooftop of the Walker Art Center in Minneapolis, having just seen a Hal Hartley screening with my friend John. There, I saw two students at the university who had been students in a class I was a T.A. in. We talked about the movie, the rooftop, and the beauty of a city on a summer night. I had a crush on the one student and didn't really notice the other. Later, the crush recipient was forgotten (moved away, self-important). Then I saw the other one tattooed and riding a bicycle really fast down Nicollet Avenue, listening to music on a Walkman, on her way, seemingly, to the apocalypse. Later, I tutored her in advanced statistics as I waited to get married to someone else. Last I heard, she had her second baby. I hope she's doing well.
No, she's not the commenter. She wouldn't know my first cat's name. Just a story to tell.
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