LOGAN: (do it the American way now!) January 3, 2009
Such a nice man on walking his bike next to the library on Logan and Florida. He said, “Nice weather, huh?” I wasn’t going to say anything, was just going to continue walking. But instead, “It’s alright.”
Then, he said something about the weather yesterday (it was about 65 yesterday). And I said, “Oh, yeah!”
That’s it. But I liked talking to him. He seemed like he had a bunch of stories to tell me. If only I could take him back here, and then we could chat over a cup of tea.
HIGH: 24 April 2008
Who with a sound mind really wants to view what I did this morning? I just woke up. Groggy still. Going to a get a cappuccino. I felt like throwing up. All I could do was thank myself for taking a life drawing class; because if not for that, I would’ve really vomited in front of Jerusalem- or at least been thrown into a violent gagging fit since that early in the morning I don’t think my stomach could’ve found anything to work with.
Ruined my day. Made me want to give every man I saw a “Filipino haircut”- the kind only a male could have.
But, I’m over it. Today’s the 25th of April, and it’s behind me now. Good. And I looked at the house this afternoon- I cannot discipline myself to avert my eyes, apparently- and the curtains were drawn.
That’s good, too.
LOGAN: 29 March 2008
Yesterday, I walked down Logan heading towards the Decker branch of the Denver Public Library. I wanted to get the movie Paris, Je t’aime because Penrose doesn’t have it. Well, Prospector listed Decker as having the movie, but after making it there I was extremely disappointed when the librarian told me I could place a “hold” on it. Prospector lies!
On my way there, I passed by the grotto (as I see it) belonging to the Lourdes Catholic church (as I remember the name to be) on the corner of Logan and Iliff. A man in a bright magenta sweater (Is describing magenta as bright redundant? Can magenta ever be anything but bright?) stood in the grotto alone with his head hanging down, his hands in his pockets. I wonder why he chose to wear such a bright color on this particular Saturday afternoon.
As I headed back home very much downtrodden after my unsuccessful visit to Decker, a little boy on a tricycle was attempting to maneuver his way onto the sidewalk as I was in the middle of leaving a voice mail message. Clearly, rounding that curve was something the boy needed to work on, but he made it without knocking into my shins. His mother congratulated him.
