don't give us none of your aggravation

The goings-on around my condo on Saturday sparked the following Facebook post:

>Upstairs got rhythm; downstairs a break-up on progress. Gotta love condo living on a Saturday night. At least the next door dog isn't barking...until dawn, that is...

Surprisingly, one friend seemed to envy me my my neighbors' shenanigans. Further explanation seemed prudent.

>Well, by the time the couple upstairs finished their mattress-drumming session (odd considering they had a friend snoring away on an inflatable bed in the living room), I'd already missed the reasons for the break-up and it had degenerated into "but I love you I want to be with you" and "but I don't trust you anymore you're driving me crazy" and "why why why" back and forth for like 2 hours, culminating in a door slam around 2:00 a.m. followed by angry stomping up and down the length of the apartment until around 4. So far this morning it's been very quiet. Stay tuned for the next installment of Nob Hill condo drama...

Hm. Still - applause for living in a real-life soap opera? These events inspired the following poem, "Saturday":

The cat stretches his legs trembling

the exhale a warm rumble on the back of the hand.

The remains of dinner did not make it to the sink

must remember to not step on plate in the dark.

Today no one spoke but tomorrow phone calls

day after is gas drive work waiting teaching.

Above the floor rumbles chuckling music laugher

heavy footsteps mean the neighbor has a guest.

Below crying screaming “but I love you”

silence door slam silence door slam thump silence.

Caught between one really might not need any more

another sigh whine claws dig gently into the thigh.

Alone not lonely must remember this means

dishes can wait until tomorrow

a pile of books by the favored chair

the cat will join in bed sometime after midnight.

thanks to my years of martial arts training...

Created by Oatmeal

oh my holy god

The definition of "adorable" - so sweet I need to go brush my teeth now. Thanks, Tosh.

words to you on my deathbed

I will not speak
of songs unsung
of books unread,
unwritten.
I will not speak
of wishes cast,
of travels far,
lovers unbidden.
Instead I'll say
rejoice today -
no matter that
my hour's ended.
The next one's yours
(you should not mourn)
and I hope you
make it splendid.

obliviousness

Two vignettes from après work last night:

1) At Nordstrom Rack:
Checker: "I can help you, Ma'am..."
Me: "Thank you! How are you doing?"
Checker: (blinks in surprise) "Uh, fine, thanks! Aren't you nice?"
Me: (laughs) "Well, it's the end of the day, and it's only Tuesday, so it can't be that bad yet...."
Checker: "You'd be surprised. But I'm so glad I got to help you...what a nice end to a really horrible day."
Me: (distraught mew) "Oh, how sad...that's pretty depressing if my asking how you're doing is the highlight of your day...."

2) At Starbucks:
Young woman in front of me in the customer line comes up to the counter. She sets down two large frothy Starbucks drinks.
Young woman: "Uh, you need to remake these. There's too much caramel in them."
Barista: "Um, but you asked for extra caramel."
Young woman: "Yeah, but there's too much caramel."
Barista: (pregnant pause)
Young woman: (insouciant smirk)
Barista: "Uh, okay...."
Whole line behind me: (chorus of groans)