(another) Unsent letter:

You know, I finally tried out the restaurant you used to work at the other night. Service was goddamn lousy. I must have sat there at that little white table outside for half an hour and I didn't even get a glass of water. Possibly because it was around 3 in the morning. I eventually decided I had to serve myself, and helped myself to a cigarette.

With words written on the side.
That said,
"Still can't feel it"

I stood up and mused over the menu in the display case next to the gated front door. You know, I don't think it's wise to try to put crab in me, but the Vietnamese pepper shrimp seems like it could really hit the spot for an appetizer.  Down to the soups. Are you guys too good to make a du jour or something? Oh, there it is, at the very top. You know, it really just means soup of the day? It's taken on such a specific meaning in this country since then. God, the life of language is a weird one. But for the entree? No, monsieur, I believe it will have to be the mutton over rice. And all for the price of a cup of tea. If that tea were an elixir of immortality. I think I might just hold out for something better tonight Garçon, or Fred, or whoever the hell you are. Start walking west...

I crossed the railroad tracks and climbed over the levee. There's a lot more dirt there than there was the last time I was here, back in November or so. You remember - that weird party I told you about with the bonfire out on the riverbank. About 20 bohemian morons you could love so easily, 99 bottles of booze, and one acoustic guitar. We climbed up on the barges and let our feet dangle over the water in a line like crows on a telephone wire. And we tried to make up our minds how we would get home, or whether or not we were already there.

The river is up these days though. There's no shoreline anymore - only water and grass. I looked at the cell tower they built where the ground levels out and I remembered that night. Hearing stories about the guys who tried to climb it. And their girlfriends downstairs, holding their man's drinks and losing their minds. I really got a kick out of those stories. Maybe that's why it's where I chose to go a few days later, after that Thanksgiving Day nightmare at your place. I wanted to climb the tower that night more than any decision I could make on my own behalf. I brought the boots for it. I brought sleeves. I just didn't really anticipate the barbed wire they coiled around the legs at the base. If I would've thought to have brought some heavy duty gloves I might have been able to climb it that night. I still think about it sometimes.

But I didn't go down there the other night. I didn't want to deal with the swampiness in the flat. I wanted to keep my pocketknife where it belongs. So I climbed back up to the top of the levee and took a seat on a tractor tire. I looked at the moon - a waxing gibbous, 4 or 5 days removed from full moon. Above it there's a small red planet I can't identify. I'm pretty astronomically fucking ignorant, but I decided to call it Venus, for a friend.

I managed to sit there and let myself get eaten for another 2 minutes or so before my thoughts inevitably drifted back to you. I'm glad your sister was there to help me out that Thanksgiving. And now that you're finally leaving town it only twists and knots me harder to know that she's leaving too. I know how much healthier and safer I am without you on my streets, but I guess when push comes to shove I'd rather put up with the both of you than lose you both.

I'm not even sure whether or not you're still here. Maybe I could accidentally put myself at your favorite bar and run into you. I could ask you what you're still doing in my town. I could ask where you're moving to, whether you were still trying to go abroad. Or chase one of those other boys who can't stand you. Maybe I could ask for some of my things back this time. Maybe I could just tell the bartender to put the rest of your drinks on my tab and just walk away. I think I just want to see you. I just want to look. And to see.

I stood up, wiped the dirt off my ass, began to descend. East. Home. Or maybe, homeward. A relative term. I ignored my phone as I felt it start to vibrate in my pocket and helped myself to a cigarette.

With words written on the side.
That said,


So many things I want to write about. I wanted to start new habits, so I've been listening to my friend's baseball podcast while I sit on my resistance ball. It's twenty minutes where I'm combining two things that I'm doing for myself, getting my daily dose of Who Owned Baseball, and a bit of exercise. I'm going to work up to longer workouts with more variety, but this is a start, and I'm happy today because I listened to an old podcast, and heard him talk about discipline. He wanted to be going to baseball games, but he decided to go to his class instead, and I've learned that habits of successful people are worth imitating, so I'm finding people I admire, and picking up traits of theirs.

The game today was a bust from the first pitch. It wasn't bad in terms of pitching after Peralta left, Ryan Braun had a tremendous catch which he followed by a home run, it avoided a shutout, but the game was not good, and it was hard to watch. For lunch, I had packed my own food, but couldn't resist the tempting spinach strawberry salad, and fruit. I had a brat figuring that would be okay. Then I had roasted nuts at the game. I didn't drink enough water, I had a water bottle, but the water tasted funny so I didn't drink much of it. After Ryu was pulled, the game got better for the Brewers. There were two errors charged to Nick Punto, and I'm going to give him a break because I don't think he's used to playing shortstop, and I think that may have affected his ability to play as well as he could have.

I heard some unsettling Don Mattingly rumors today. At the end of each game, there's a team who scored more runs than another. That's what this game was today. I don't feel right about calling the Dodgers winners today. I think their pitching was exceptional, if this term hasn't been coined before, I'm going to invent it, and I'm going to call it a pitcher's duet instead of a duel. Today Ryu and Peralta were largely responsible for the Dodgers scoring runs, and the Brewers inability to put runs on the board. It's not pretty baseball. I didn't like it, I didn't feel good about watching that game. Maybe it was because I was with a large group of kids who were running around, the weather probably affected my mood, but there was an atmosphere at Miller Park today. I didn't feel as if the Dodgers were really happy with their victory, and from what I've seen on Twitter, it doesn't seem like most others are either.

After the game I jumped into a conversation between a Dodgers fan and a Milwaukee guy. We talked briefly about the trade that had sent Adrian Gonzalez to LA, I like Adrian Gonzalez. I think he's sexy, I think he plays well, I'm a fan of his, but I didn't see anything to rave about during today's game. Some of you know that I used to sell shoes for a living. I was unquestionably the best sales person our department had, I put together deals that were so large departments weren't sure how to handle them, and gradually I earned a reputation for being someone other people wanted to work with. When the company I worked for realized how much they were going to have to pay me, they changed the compensation structure, and I was pissed because I earned that money. I couldn't trash the company I was representing to my clients, eventually I let them cheating me out of a rightful commission eat away at me, I left, and the other day I talked to a woman who said the culture of the company has gradually changed since they were bought out.

I feel as if that experience for me was a bit like the game today. Neither me, nor the company I worked for won when I quit. They lost a great sales person, my clients lost someone they could talk to, they lost sales, and I lost a position that was unique to me because I took a title, and gave it a meaning no one intended it to have. I'm not sure why the Dodgers are struggling right now. There are theories out there, and maybe you wouldn't agree with my take on the situation, which is fine as everyone perceives things differently. We had nice seats for a field trip although my view was frequently obstructed. The roof at Miller Park leaked, I'm still happy I went, my daughter had a great time, and that's how I need to view these types of outings. I'm not there to watch a game, I'm there to make sure that my child has new experiences.

I forgot my car was at school so we had to turn around and get it. I didn't spend any money at the game, it was seventy-five dollars for the three of us to attend, I think my husband spent ten dollars on concessions, we bought the fifth grade teacher some roasted nuts, we split a package of peanuts, and I think that was it. My husband left to go run stairs and walk up and down the ramp. I was wishing I would have followed his lead since I didn't get much out of the game anyways, it's an idea I can file away for later when I'm at games like that since noise from the crowd will tell you when things I want to be knowing about happen.

Today I wrote a hundred words again, just to start my day. I tried to use words I hadn't chosen the day before, I had some themes going, and I'm going to keep doing it because it's fun, and I think it's good for me. The 365 Project is also intriguing to me. It isn't so much what you do, it's that you're committed to a habit, and going back to what I said earlier, successful people are disciplined, if discipline is a key to success, then I'm going to do as many things as I possibly can to get there.

I've been neglecting my fiction, but I have spent more time than I should have on it in the past. I'm going to listen to my Zen Garden music, ignore Twitter for a while, and see what I've been shying away from writing about over there.

Take care, I wish you well.



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