..::19.03.07::..
first: trust is a big big deal to me. honesty=best policy. always. so if i ask you if you read this (and you're reading this now) you should say yes. even if you already said no.
***
the other day i took the bus to work. i had my headphones on and was listening to my repeater playlist. my bus route is sort of strange. i pressed play right about the time we started through the projects. so imagine listening to cocorosie's bear hides and buffalo. a young woman starts to cross the street in front of the bus. in her left hand a cigarillo. behind her caprini greens. tall project high rises that are infamous and being torn down. most are vacant. in her right hand a hand of a small child. there is a noise of horse. a cat's meow. and an opera singer. the bus waits for nothing. maybe the bus driver recognized the woman. i'm not sure. but it paused enough for her to cross. put out her smoke and board the bus all with great leisure. both were meticulously put together. this wasn't a mom that would allow herself to look like one. and her daughter definitely wasn't the one putting together her own outfit. even the beads in her braids matched. i'm not sure if that's why they caught my eye, or if it was the music. it's a depressing place. a place without hope. and the song only proved to intensify that feeling. i felt like crying. in odd timing, the song changed just as the neighborhood changed. begin cocorosie's candyland. the sun peaked out from behind the clouds. mother and daughter stood up and got off the bus. the daughter wasn't even tall enough to make the last step. there isn't really anything around where they got off. but somehow it seemed hopeful.
***
recently i found myself in the produce section looking for granny smith apples. i clearly looked like i was looking for something. the guy manning the section asked if i needed help. he showed me where they were. i asked him where the ugli fruit was to save time. i was looking at him probably more directly than a lot of people do because he has a dead eye and i'm used to that. but that's not why i was looking at him. i was trying to place him. he was sweet. introduced himself. i walked away. steps later i placed him. he was the homeless guy i always assumed was using his disability. he had a spiel that never changed. "i'm hungry. i am homeless. i want to buy a hotdog."
1 i moved and i don't ride the same train line. i haven't seen him in a long time. i'm not sure what occured for the transformation, but i'll say that it's drastic. i give him props.
***
last night i left my dad a message. about easter. i'm hoping he calls me back. for years i've had a memory that's never been confirmed/explained/denied. it tops santa because it's more unusual. the last time i thought maybe i'd made something up because it hadn't been explained and was equally bizarre, as it turns out was totally explainable. my memory is of my family visiting my grandmother on easter. we pulled into the driveway. my parents' house is built into the side of a hill so you can't really see fully until you've come down the driveway. as we pulled in my dad told me "look! the easter bunny!" and i swear to this day a big, adult sized bunny (looking much like a disney character) was leaving our house, basket in hand. so now i don't know if i made it up or if perhaps my dad had a friend dress up in a giant bunny costume. the thing is my dad dressed up as a giant squirrel one year to take me trick or treating. he was a pretty cool dad. it's not entirely out of the question.
1a few things about hotdogs. a. they're gross. i'm allergic to something in them that makes my mouth tingle aka 'hotdog mouth' and i can't say i'd request them by name no matter how hungry i was. b. although
this is one of the coolest/strangest things i've ever seen. i don't think it would have made me want to eat them more as a kid, despite my love for the octopus.
