*01.25.02 in through the out door

the Plan gallops along. introduction of yoga has destabilized things a bit, though: i'm not hungry, but i've become (more of a) pack rat. the mechanic is right next to this one-woman bazaar thing in the mission, and fanfare rang down from the heavens when i dumped my ailing car and spied her orange wicker chairs. since then i've acquired an amber globe light, a brown glass vase, a linen LONDON tapestry, a brass/crystal candle holder, a hat box with a built-in shower cap / hair dryer, a short wave radio, and, um, baubles. i only spent $30, but - if my car dies again and i go back, there won't be room to move in here.

so bad, bad yoga. it's also led me to discover that the rug smells like italian food, and ew.


boys are smelly, by kim gordon (sonic youth tour diary '87).
wine snobs are full of it.
bea arthur wrestling dinosaurs (my new desktop).

purple rain (1984) #
+ guitar/hose sprays club kids; minnesota!
- incomplete domestic violence arc; no "raspberry beret".

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