Observations

If you slow down, or if your life has to slow down, you tend to observe more things. If you are still you notice more things around you. Mothers of new babies know this. The exact shape of Australia in a kitchen sponge sponge-dent, the Orion's Belt of freckles on the back of a knee.

I am noticing a lot lately. Like today a black and white police car has driven by my front porch about five times in the last 20 minutes. A black car has backed in and out of the same seeming driveway or alley about five or six times too. Related?

The helpful man at the post office looks to be in his late 60s yet he has bleached hair that is a careful combination of red and platinum blonde and it's brushed forward in a vogue stylish way. He is 

very very friendly and helpful and wants to talk to me about all the stamps. He helped me picked some stamps that were of gingerbread houses, and he pointed out there were actual photographs of the real gingerbread houses. We looked at the icing eaves together. We had time. I enjoyed it. He has on a big clunky platinum wedding ring on his left ring finger. The other postal lady working next to him had on and atrociously bad wig, almost like it was campy or something from a costume show. But she was wearing it earnestly. Something going on at that PO in the hair department. But I like my little Blackson Lane hidden postal office. You never heard of it. I know it well.

I do not want to eat but there is a pit in my stomach that is actually hurting me and I am observing that it tells me that I need food. I am now going to find some food to eat. 

Canned peaches it is.

A few more observations in list form:

Linda Ronstadt's version of O Come, O Come, Emmanuel is shockingly heartbreakingly beautiful, from a little known 2000 recording. It'll break your heart in the good way.

If the fates allow as a lyric also does this

Candles don't hold up

It's not the slightest bit difficult to be kind and in fact doesn't need to be thought of as special - it's just normal decent behavior. Somehow that's gotten mixed up and people get called amazing or special or heroes for simply being human. Normal.

People worry too much about their hair. Or my child's hair. This was a time to drop a topic and I feel sorry for those who did not listen, could not hear. Those who could not hear the words. Every choice you make, said the late wonderful teacher Edward Shirley, brings you one step closer or one step farther away from connection - with others. And in the middle of the Hell that Dante described there is not fire, but ice, and the frozen alone man who cannot move, cannot speak, cannot reach, cannot touch, cannot speak, cannot connect. That is hell. I learned a lot from Dr. Shirley and miss him. Namaste.

Some people fuss too much and I think this, like I thought about the other day, gets down to the small things. Salad dressing. Timing for a dermatologist check up. Whether or not someone forgot what you said. A rule. What shoes. What hair. These can be pleasures too but when fixfussfixated on make the fusser a fussbudget. And steps them away. I don't know why yet but I'm working on it.

Joni Mitchell is a genius.

It's good to wash your prickly hair with dandruff shampoo that has little scrubbing beads in it and salicylic acid in in. And hey those sneaky sneakers put 3% salicylic acid in it - getting away with breaking the OTC rule of only 2% allowed in face products without a prescription. Could be good and cheaper for you acne prone types.

Roz Chast is a genius. 

Other people I know have cancer and had it and some have died. I'm not the only one and I'm not special. Powell. Bill. Michael. Stacy. Doris. 

Xicochi is a beautiful name.

Elizabeth Strout is right about voice in writing - it's what gets the reader to stay, it compels. I think she will prove to be a good editor for this year's round of best short stories. 

The little forest of hairs on my body has literally stopped - time warp frozen in time - an unnatural and frightening thing to see. They do not grow or change. Nor do the fall out or rub off. Are they dead? More than dead? Hair hell? They are like a photograph of a war field, shown up on a wall, never changing to the eyes that walk by.

Green is maybe the best color but murderously easy to get wrong.

People are drawn to nature and its best personality characteristics: warmth, beauty, grace, sunniness, an easy breeze. It's instinct. So if you want people to be drawn to you, be sunny and easy, have grace and show your beauty, be warm. I think that's very plain.

I like the scent of pine.

Augusten Burroughs knows a lot. About how to be. How to be fat. Stuck on an elevator, fired, ugly. How to have cancer. To die. To lose someone. I'm learning. He writes it beautifully and easily and warmly and brightly like nature,

My friends are good. My goods are friends.

Writing feels normal to me and is not hard. That does not mean anything at all about what's written - I'm only speaking of the physical act of pouring it out of the pitcher onto the milkglass.

River by Joni Mitchell    It's coming on Christmas  They're cutting down trees  They're putting up reindeer  And singing songs of joy and peace  Oh I wish I had a river I could skate away on  But it don't snow here  It stays pretty green  I'm going to make a lot of money  Then I'm going to quit this crazy scene  Oh I wish I had a river I could skate away on  I wish I had a river so long  I would teach my feet to fly  I wish I had a river I could skate away on  I made my baby cry He tried hard to help me  You know, he put me at ease  And he loved me so naughty  Made me weak in the knees  Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on I'm so hard to handle  I'm selfish and I'm sad  Now I've gone and lost the best baby  That I ever had  I wish I had a river I could skate away on  Oh, I wish I had a river so long  I would teach my feet to fly  I wish I had a river  I could skate away on  I made my baby say goodbye  It's coming on Christmas  They're cutting down trees  They're putting up reindeer  And singing songs of joy and peace  I wish I had a river I could skate away on © 1970; Joni Mitchell  Maybe Sparrow by Neko Case Maybe sparrow you should wait The hawks alight til morning You'll never pass Beyond the gate If you dont hear my warning Notes are hung so effortless With the rise and fall of sparrows breast Its a drowning diving Back to the chorus La di da di da di dum La di da di da di dum Oh my sparrow Its too late Your body limp beneath my feet Your dusty eyes As cold as clay You didnt hear my warning You didnt hear my warning Maybe sparrow Its too late The moonlight glanced off metal wings In a thunderstorm above the clouds The engine hums a sparrows phrase Those who cannot hear the words Those who cannot hear the words Those who will not hear the words