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August 2005 Archives

August 3, 2005

The couch

The white couch I bought last summer from Goodwill for $50 does not fit through Mark's door. Desperate for seating in the old apartment with Alex, I saw a semi-beautiful couch from outside Goodwill. I walked in and immediately purchased it, forgetting that I had no way of moving it to my apartment a mile away. They agreed to lend me a crate with wheels on it if I returned it in 45 minutes. After losing 2 of the 6 wheels but pressing on a man stopped me and insisted that I load the couch in the back of his truck. I offered him money after he dropped me off, but he refused. I then pushed it in my then-new apartment and arranged it myself, feeling proud.

I later received another couch, thanks to my grandmother. A neighbor in her old people condo died and my grandma bought it and gave it to me. I put it in my apartment with Alex and Tom slept on it for a few weeks while he lived with us. I'm convinced the lady died on the couch and that it is haunted/enchanted.

When I moved out I made plans to take just one couch, so Alex would have a place to entertain or whatever. We moved the dead couch in along with Mark's nice leather couch, thinking that we'd get the white couch in the distant future and not have to worry about it. The time finally came this weekend. We were required to be out of our old apartment by noon on Sunday and Saturday was our day of destiny.

A visit with cousins Saturday afternoon lasted longer than expected and the moving truck I planned on mooching off of Alex while he moved was returned by the time I got back to help. I ran into Audrey in our parking lot and she said her dad could probably help in the morning. We exchanged numbers.

The next morning I waited for a call and declined offers to attend mass and lunch with Chris and Justin. At 11:15 they said, "Here, we'll carry it the two blocks between apartments with you. It won't be too bad." For their troubles I offered to pay for lunch. We walked to the old apartment and as we were lifting it to carry it out the doorway Audrey called and said she would be at the apartment in 5 minutes. I was relieved, but secretly wished to carry the couch, thinking it'd prove my manliness...to myself.

We loaded it on the trailer and Chris, Justin and I walked back. Audrey and Kyle helped unload it and hand off the cushions and Chris, Justin and I moved it up stairs in the same pushing/pulling up 2 "flights" of stairs vertically and over the mini-balcony, through the French doors and into the living room. We dropped what we were doing, except for a quick harassment of Tom by Chris, and ate at the Sundance Grill where the waitress who asked "What do you want?" and "Are you done?" in polite tones accidentally gave me over-changed me, giving me a beautiful $10 bill. I gave her a big(ger) tip and returned home.

I set the couch on a pillow and pushed it through the hallway to Mark's room, where it would quickly pass through his door and then through the door to the attic and up into the rumpus room. But it didn't fit (and my ideas of sawing off portions to make it fit were shot down). And it is now sitting upright in the hallway, beside Tom's bedroom, waiting to fall on him the second he walks out.

August 5, 2005

Sugar or Salt?

I've noticed my sweet tooth diminishing. I've never been a big eater of sugary candies or anything. (Now don't get me wrong, I've always loved candy.) But I've noticed that I'm less inclined to get sweet treats. I find myself craving chips more than cookies. I want vegetables over fruits. What is this? When I get a sub from Subway it's almost always decorated with pickles, mayonnaise, mustard, salt & pepper, and vinegar. Not out of the ordinary, but together that's a bit extreme. But I love it!

Is this growing up? I know people's taste changes and matures, but it's kind of weird. And is one better than the other, salt over sugar? I wish salty foods provided the energy buzz sugary ones did. Then I'd be in heaven. Heart disease heaven.

August 6, 2005


My yoga classes have been extremely inconsistent. Their attendance anyway. They're set up so that you can drop in during any of the sessions that week for your level. I have been faithful to the 10:30 am Saturday slots all four weeks. But no one else in the class has, except Sam. Several old women have come and gone, and returned. A 30ish couple came back today for the first time since week 1. An old guy who really knows his yoga is in there now. It's confusing.

But Sam has been to each session I've been to. Usually with her friend Hannah. Today we partnered up to lengthen the sidebodies while in the downward facing dog position by pushing up the arms to the armpits. Or something. Afterwards Sam commented on how Hannah ditched her this week since she's going on a week-long trip to New York, and how she wanted to go back to bed when she got home but had to get more minutes for her phone first. Just chit-chat. I agreed, explaining that I tried to do the Tuesday night classes, but, unfortunately, Saturday mornings worked better. She then asked how old I was. I told her 22 and asked her the same, and she said, "Almost 15."

I'd always known she was younger, and guessed around 16. Her friend Hannah looks young and awkward with a mouth full of braces. Sam looks a little older, but her partially green hair and the rides she gets with her mom give her age away. I found it amusing that: 1) she asked my age and 2) her reply wasn't "14" but instead "almost 15", just as I would have done at that age. I'm sure she knew I was older, but probably not by almost 8 years. I'm no prize, especially with this botched haircut, but it makes me wonder. And no, I wouldn't dare.

After class I got on my bike, seeing Sam get in a truck with her mom and wanting to get out of there quickly I rode up an alley. To my dismay they were behind me and an overgrown bush forced me off the sidewalk and to the road and made me wobble a bit, in front of Sam and her mom. As they drove by we waved at each other and I cursed.

August 7, 2005

Memoirs of a geisha

The fan blowing in my room keeps my geisha modest, yet cool.

August 10, 2005

"The best car in the world"

In the bathroom yesterday I noticed the toilet paper dispenser in disarray. The lock was off, rolls of toilet paper were on the ground and the bar was hanging down. With the bar and toilet paper out of the way I noticed that the company that made it was

Justin and I speculated on the name. It looks like they've been in business a while and are quite proud of their name-reversal, though it might be coincidental. Justin's convinced they started out making dispensers and branched out from that. Classy.

August 18, 2005


Before going to the Wizard Con, Mark shared some Campari with Tom and me. We didn't appreciate it. It was too bitter for me, but I think I could grow to like it. Especially with grapefruit as he recommends. Then on Sunday I saw this piece by Bruno Munari at the Museum of Modern Art in New York.

August 22, 2005

I, Wrist

I'm just too tired. I need to read and write. I need to produce rather than do all this consuming. Taking in all this junk is too unproductive and dissociative. Making junk is better than taking it. I haven't made anything in a while, in any sense. It just keeps coming in and I feel like I'm too filled and ready to burst. The only way to let it out is to...do. But what? I need doing to do. My wrist itches and flakes and tells me who I am or pretend to be. I'm getting there though. I'm fighting to end being the conduit, the sycophant. My yelling voice isn't filled with anger, it's happiness.

I'm thinking about seeing some movies
9pm @ Wealthy Street Theatre

7pm @ UICA
Me and You and Everyone We Know

?pm @ ?
The 40 Year Old Virgin

August 26, 2005

Hot Boyz

Last Wednesday Mark and I were trying to find the bar to go to on Wednesdays. We weren't sure when to leave, but when the power went out we knew it was time. We rode our bikes to Bull's Head and felt out of place. We considered Mojo's and laughed, going to Gardella's where we missed the 1/2 off drinks until 11 by 20 minutes. Finally we ended the night at Drink, on a non-Jef Leppard night. It was hip-hop/open mic and was pretty good. We felt out of place, but sat on a couch against the wall. A few minutes later a large, out of place woman looking like she's homeless stood near us, talking to a man in a redshirt. They talked, looked at us, and at the couch and Mark knew what was coming, saying something like, "Don't let this happen. This can't be happening."

The man in the red shirt came over to us and asked, "Is it okay with you guys if she sits down right there?" There wasn't a lot of room, so he was asking if we'd move down a little. "Yeah, not a problem," we said. She sat to my left and the man said, "Thank you so much, it means a lot." We noticed he was wearing a lanyard or two, including one with a photo ID, and his shirt said God's Kitchen on it. We didn't quite understand. Here was a man from God's Kitchen escorting a big homeless woman to a bar? If she behaved for a month she'd get to drink? What was this program?

Later we saw him drinking and dancing a lot. He was really into it. Why had he ditched his charge? Was he allowed to drink while doing this assignment? Then he started walking around, taking peoples' empty glasses and bottles to the bar. Was he working for the bar? No. He was drinking too. One person we asked, who danced with him and ended up talking to Mark a bit about New Order, guessed that he was a volunteer of some kind. What programs offer volunteering at a bar though? Are we insane? What was going on?

August 30, 2005

Roc A Fella

While riding the Rapid between GR and Allendale the other day I sat behind an old man interrupting a conversation between two women. He asked about the Family Fare on Lake Michigan Drive and to have them let him know when it was coming up. Every so often he'd butt into their conversation and give some old man comment.

"Who the hell's gonna' buy that?" Rockefeller's illegitimate child?" (On increasing prices of property in the Ann Arbor area)

"Do they have a crawling track?" (On his age and inability to use the indoor [running] track at the new YMCA downtown)

The women forgot to remind him of the Family Fare approaching so I secretly pulled the wire to stop the bus there and it got their attention. He got off the bus, thanked the women and went to Family Fare. They laughed about something as soon as he got off.

About August 2005

This page contains all entries posted to spacebase in August 2005. They are listed from oldest to newest.

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