yesterday when I went into town I was supposed to get fleapoison for Buddha, because the carpet had been booked to be de-pested by pesticide men at 10:30 today. I of course forgot all about it. so I had to rush into Smithfield to get fur fleapoison, because it would be no good to have a flea-infested cat on freshly flea-less carpet. $40 capsules to squeeze onto his shoulderblades. the pesticide men cleaned and depested the carpet, and loungesuite, so now everything is shiny new and no fleas, hurrah. except the carpet fleapoison also kills geckos, so I keep coming across them twitching on their backs, and Buddha eats them.
i’d noticed my facewash kept mysteriously moving around the bathroom I share with my sister. so last night I left a note on the mirror, reading “PLEASE CEASE USING MY FUCKING FACEWASH I PAID 70 FUCKING $ FOR. KTHX.”
this afternoon, as she was popping in and out of my closed-door’d room, I said, “hey, did you get the note I left last night?”
“yep,” she answered over her shoulder, perfect picture of nonchalance.
“how come you didn’t say anything?”
she turned around, “well, it was pretty clear.”
this is everything I wrote in my notebook yesterday, since it all is fitting for a daily:
the other day mumm asked me why I never had crushes on famous people the way teenage girls are supposed to. of course I couldn’t answer it. anyway she asked if i’d had a crush on Kurt Cobain.
“you couldn’t call it a crush,” I said.
“but you were interested in him.”
“yes,” I said. “but i’m interested in Buddha” (he was on my lap).
I wish now i’d said “yes, but I was just as interested in Sylvia Plath.” same point, only more relevantly expressed.
(pen keeps going funny ’cause it’s raining and i’m writing on raindrops)
I just caught to [sic] 5-minutes-to bus to Uni to drop off a very overdue book (Sylvia Plath!). on the way I thought “good timing! then I can catch the 5-past bus to town (to buy cat-de-flea).” so when I got to Uni I raced to the library and back so I wouldn’t miss the 5-past bus. it was only when I got all the way back to the bus-stop that I realised i’d been on the 5-past bus! the bus leaves Trinity Beach at 5-to and reaches Uni at 5-past! what an idiot.
Smithfield – walked across the longest parking lot in the world, practically a desert trek. reminds me of the night x was beat up, except that lot was covered in snow.
bus stop – woman (old) with banshee voice and frightfully long toenails says (screeches) “we’re locals!” with a palatable/palpable sense of pride. “we’d be locals anywhere,” I say. another woman, trying to explain to a tourist that there is no bus to the airport, wiping at her eyes every three seconds.