words, words, words
|
|
| |
|
|
| |
If I begin to detail myself here, will you understand?
P. I am me
Q. I don't always know exactly who that is
R. I am Quaker
S. I like words and playing with them
T. I like genmaicha tea
U. I like the word napkin more than most others
V. I spend time walking my neighborhood
W. I cook rice often
X. I sleep well most every night
Y. I eat large amounts of fruit and vegetables
Z. I munch, sleep, write, create, cook, bike, watch, walk, listen, hope, learn, drink, live, breathe, touch, know, question, taste, copy, read, stare, carry, talk, dance, finger, try.
raisin@gmail.com
albums:
Magnetic Fields: 69 Love Songs
Erasure: I Say, I Say, I Say
Depeche Mode: Black Celebration
The Beach Boys: Pet Sounds
Marvin Gaye: What's Going On?
David Bowie: Hunky Dory
George Michael: Listen without Prejudice
George Gershwin: Porgy and Bess
Yo La Tengo: And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out
songs:
Wild is the Wind: Nina Simone
Come Undone: Duran Duran
Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini: Rachmaninov
My Funny Valentine: Chet Baker
Feeling Yourself Disintegrate: The Flaming Lips
This Must Be the Place: The Talking Heads
Hyperballad: Bjork
|
|
|
|
|
|
| |
Monday, April 21, 2003
this is my last week in the air force. the last week of standardized health care, the last week of military rank. the last week of blousing my boots (tucking the pants under so that they fall level with your boots but tight around your calf), the last week of saluting and being saluted. diana ross's i'm coming out has been singing in my head today, in anticipation. not that i think i'll do much besides enjoy my finger nail polish a bit more often. and maybe shed some of my paranoia, although much of it i've left behind while maturing the past five years. this may be the last week of a steady paycheck for a while, and certainly a higher paycheck than i'm likely to make for a long time. fortunately, i have saved well. this is the last week of carrying around identification that says I belong to the Geneva convention category III, combatant. and of course, the last week of the limited military discounts one can occasionally find. no more commissary or tax-free housing allowance, no more state tax reduction and cheap car registration. i still know where to find a cheap haircut and the civilian libraries loan better movies and books anyhow. last week of driving 25 miles one way to work through suburban illinois, the metro-east area of st louis, listening to my tapes or the radio since my cd player is unfixable and has yet to be replaced. last week of having that tell-tale sticker on the bottom left side of my windshield explaining that i'm an officer at Scott AFB; the police officers never had much sympathy anyway. last week of being shy about what I do for a living because I am frightened of it getting around too much or bothered by the 'hot man in uniform' idea. last week of conforming haircuts and facial hair, of pretending to those i work with that i might actually be straight. last week of changing my glasses before i go to work, or wondering whether the nice curl in my bangs makes me look too gay. this is the last week of my second life, the first being raised by my parents, the second being raised by the Air Force. Now I'm in control.
3:56 PM
|
|
| |
|
|
|
