Dangerous Compassions

new beginnings

I bought a shower curtain at the dollar store. “Why would you do such a silly thing?” you might wonder. Well, two reasons. The first is that it’s not PVC so I didn’t think it’d give a nasty fume, and it didn’t. The second is that my old shower curtain I had for more than 12 years–my ex in laws bought it for me. It was time to retire it. The old one was dark blue and thick–this new one’s periwinkle and airy. So I like it a lot more so far though I’m concerned it won’t last. It reminds me a lot of that plastic tablecloth I bought for the zine fest. Erik compared it to a trash bag.

I called our old mechanic Z this afternoon to talk to him about the truck. He didn’t answer and never returned my call. We’re hoping he might call first thing in the morning. Not being able to get a hold of him was part of the reason we switched mechanics.

Lately I want to go to bed very early. Erik’s doing yoga and listening to Magical Mystery Tour. I hadn’t heard it in a long time.

I checked a book out from the library about celebrity suicides. It’s got some hokiness going on, but I value the information. I read the introductions, and first up’s Virginia Woolf. Mostly I just want to read the suicide notes.

We went to the thrift store this evening. I was interested in some notecards of old paintings, but the box was dirty and I didn’t want to deal with that. I’m keeping my eyes peeled for a remarkable address book–my current one I made myself, and it’s falling apart. It’s time for a fresh start. Maybe.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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