The Saddest Month

May is a sad month. It fills me with an inexplicable melancholy. That is all I have to say about that.

The Dregs

The other day I was waiting for the light to change when I made eye contact with the beggar. Many people find ways to avoid looking at beggars. Sending text messages is a popular method. Perhaps a quick tweet.

But I eagerly wait to make eye contact with the beggars because I have nothing else to do. On this particular occasion the beggar came right up to my window. Her eyes were beaming and she was excited because she knew the surf had come up. She might have been drunk. "Surf was, gooooood, huh?" I was admittedly startled at first, but I ended up giving her a quick rundown my session: wave quality, water temperature, crowd vibe, where the sandbar was working--all the necessary info I'd give to a surfer thinking about paddling out... as though she should drop her sign, give up her post at the intersection and catch a few waves. She took it all in with apparent interest and delight. I think we bonded.

It only occurred to me after the light had changed, that I should have given her some money.

Mother

Hey! Look at me!

I can see how blogging can be addicting. You post some random things, and friends and strangers stop by and actually read what you have to say. How fascinating! How novel! Sometimes they leave encouraging comments. Sometimes they leave bitter comments. But mostly it's just nice to keep a public record of your life for future generations and/or aliens invaders. It's perfect for narcissistic attention whores such as myself.

Personally I think of my blog as a Magical and Wondrous toilet, where I can go to empty the fecal material of my brain. Or as a respite from the infamous erBB, where great minds go to wither away into political caricatures.

I'm pregnant!

I have nothing special to blog about today other than the fact that I think I might be pregnant. I've been feeling a bit of the morning sickness lately and I haven't had a period in forever, so clearly it must be the case that I'm carrying a small bundle of joy within me.

I have not yet decided what I'll name my baby. Nor have I given much thought to the prospect of being a single parent in a post 9/11 landscape. Not to mention the struggling economy. I have so many questions and concerns. Breath slowly. Take it one step at a time.

I think I may join a support group for pregnant, single men.

De Profundis

"I am the ultimate phase of the poetic temper on the way to becoming a sort of reformer on a small scale..."

Not really. In fact, more likely the converse: a little maggot hoping one day to become a fly.

Are maggots able to lead a poetic existence?

Moving along, it occurred to me this morning while walking to work that there are two kinds of people: meter maids and poets. The meter maids of the world live a life of rules and efficiency. They move swiftly among us, enforcing their code, making sure our wheels are cramped toward the curb, checking our registration stickers, occasionally measuring the distance between our tires and the curb. I am a meter maid, but don't take my job all that seriously.

The poets, on the other hand, live their lives amassing citations. Hundreds of little yellow envelopes accumulate on their windshield until one day their cars are towed away.

Lunch

There is something in my manner that makes people uneasy. For example at lunch today, the waitress came by the table to check if I needed anything. I looked up from my book and shook my head. She smiled and I smiled back, but before she turned away--and for only a split second, which however brief, seemed eternal--I detected in her countenance sheer and utter terror. It was as though she peered directly within my soul and was frightened of what she saw.

For dessert I had a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

I just finished a bath

It's important to feel clean from time to time. How long before I get bored of blogging? I will continue out of self-hate and spite, oh yes.

The Pensive Pigeon

Where do you find your inspiration?

I want to blog your brains out.