so much time and so little to do. wait a minute. strike that. reverse it.

Let the happy induced freak out begin! I have to pack! I have to sell the store! I have to tap dance and jump on the couch for AT LEAST two hours a day! I have to sell my house! I have to sell most of my stuff! I have to find an apartment in Seattle! I have to STOP drinking coffee!

It’s a lot! In a good good thank god I couldn’t be happier about it way!

Yesterday I started to read Ulysses. I’m on page 34. WISH ME LUCK. This book has kicked my ass on at least three occasions. Here’s hoping the fourth time is a charm. So far, I like the banter between Stephan and Buck. I like the ghostly image of Stephan’s mother coming to him smelling of “wax and rosewood.” I like how Joyce makes compound words out of words that might have never been compounded otherwise. I hope that I’ll get so into it that I can’t set it down. Where I carry it around where ever I go in spite of it’s heavy hardcoverness. The edition I have was a find at a used book store. It’s teal green cloth hardcover with two black lower case j’s on the front. All 1950s beautiful. It smells musty and bookish. I like how it feels in my hands. I read it out loud just before falling asleep and let the left over images of Ireland and Bloom fill my head as I close my eyes. Fourth time. Charm. Fourth time. Charm.

Yesterday Basement Dwelling P and I embarked on a project that culminated in us feeling like Fred and Thelma from Scooby Doo. We had the lofty plans of opening a door to the back alley that had long been boarded up and nailed shut. P, or let’s call him Fred, did all the heavy thinking and came up with the plan as to how to unnail the door open. After a few tries, it was freed and with much joy we threw open the door only to find ourselves face to face with a BRICK WALL. A surprise to be sure! We felt around some for super secret hidden latch, expecting it to open all jagged edged along the mortar – but no such luck. Disappointed! Not wanting to give up hope for a separate basement entrance, we headed down the creaky stairs to the creepy basement. We searched around for another door, a boarded up window – anything – all the while our way being dimly lit by a Bic lighter and our hair getting caught up in the cobwebs. We think we found a trap door! We know we found some spiders! It was an alright afternoon. All I needed was an orange turtle neck and some glasses. Oh, and an ascot for P. Fred style.

I’ll end it with this note. Last night :A:, B and I were talking about elementary school romances. Mine was Ross LaHaye. Blonde hair, blue eyed Ross LaHaye. We were a “couple” from kindergarten through 5^th grade. We’d talk in class, hang out at recess then he’d throw snow balls or berries at me on the walk home depending on the season. But then I moved away. The realization: that still stands as my longest relationship! No good! Or maybe good! He was pretty cute for an grade schooler!