Nektar on the 49

the other night I walked 7 blocks, or 0.6 miles (I mapped it) on the same side of the street, cataloging all the free crap I passed: 

-sofa (see below)

-2 drawer black filing cabinet

-microwave 

-computer monitor

-2 pairs of female knee-high boots

-large area rug

-suitcase

-glass-topped table

-nightstand 

there was also a stack of large, Saran-wrapped pies outside the back door of a church. 

I ended up at Elliott Bay, and by sheer happenstance started reading a book about hoarding (lured in by a mention of Grey Gardens, one of my favorite fucking movies ever), and I learned about Diogenes syndrome, which was named after a Greek dude (a cynic, even!) in ~400 BC who was totally content to live in a state that most would deem filthy and socially dubious. this is not to be confused with syllogomania, the hoarding of shite. 

the boots were still there today. 

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this aforementioned sofa first appeared about 2 weeks ago. I coveted it. one day it even had three throw pillows jauntily arranged on it. and then it rained. and then it snowed. it's still there and now it's ruined and every time I walk past it I feel shitty for not adopting it sooner. 

note the unmolested quality of the snow. 

didja know? Slinky (TM) makes spinny things! I dunno... what did you call them? is there a proper name for these? I always referred to them as "the whirly spinny yard-things", accompanied by vaguely flamboyant hand gestures.  

so I just looked it up. this is called a motherfucking whirligig, y'all. I want to click my heels or something now.  

I love this stall at the Broadway farmers market. they cut every potato varietal in half and have delightful descriptions for each one.

I never buy anything- let's get that clear; I just like to read about them. 

this is the photograph I was taking when I walked into the traffic cone. yeah, I was that asshole. but the light! the way everything glowed! the sharp edges and lurid nuances! it was hypnotizing as fuck. 

but then I cropped it and filtered it all sinister-like, and I like this much more. 

the lair. god, this is so much fucking nicer than my last place. the circumstances that led me here sucked, a lot, but the outcome, this: HELL FUCKING YES. 

to everyone who visited my last shithole, hereafter known as Fuck That Place (FTP), and politely "ohh, well, it's got character"d me: you are too kind. please come here sometime and let me bake you something in my functional oven, or whatever normal adults do.  

the spit-scented beast. 

yet another sunset of bombast. it is very difficult to get proper views on Capitol Hill these days, what with all the vista-obliterating fucking condos. this is from Thomas & 14th, I think? I filtered this a little. 

and then I used the wrist-slittin' fuck-all-y'all filter (also known as B&W Warmer).

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I found an awesome book at the UW bookstore tonight of every transit map in the world. what a fucking calming book! Stockholm has an especially relaxing metro layout. and Hamburg's is all angles, no curves. Moscow's looks like a fucking dissonant nightmare... it was very fascinating, but I've always been weirdly into maps and linear patterns 'n shit. So I was looking up the stops I stayed at in the cities I'd been to, feeling that fucking familiar inconvenient antsiness, and a guy walked up while I was on Paris. "Paris!" he said. then he drifted over to the religion section, which I was standing across from. "if you ever need to know any of the good books on Buddhism, I'm your guy" he said. and then he wandered away. 

afterwards I thought: I automatically dealt with that as a negligible, disposable moment. but what if I hadn't? 

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....and really, who does?