My sleeping pattern is so fucked. I've been sleeping for about 2 to 4 hours at a time at really ridiculous times. Like Wednesday I slept from 5am to 8am, then again from 2pm to 4pm. Then I stayed up all night long and today I slept from 3pm to 4pm and again from 530pm to 1030pm. I have four papers to write but when I sit down to actually write them all I want to do is learn how to use HTML and make my webdiary better. Who knew I was such a computernet geek? Ugl. Today I got up so early --oh. Wait. Actually I didn't get up at all cuz I never "went to bed." My brain is on low power right now..but anyway today I stayed up so that I could drive my mom to work at 7am so I could use the kkkarrrrrHACKcar to run errands. She works off of Hwy 151/East Wash Ave which is the same hwy that the East Towne Mall and a million other shopping holes are located at. So I figured I would drop her off, eat something in the area so as not to waste any more fucking gas and sit where I'd eaten and read Stone Butch Blues until 10, when the shitty ass mall opened and I'd be able to buy the last of the crap that I need (like a pair of pants that aren't hot jeans and aren't completely disintegrating. I love my disintegrating clothes and I will miss them but I don't think it's very practical to bring them since I have limited packing space and things need to survive very rough hand washings). Then I could go home, probably by 12 or so, and write a few papers. Pick mom up at 5 again, try to stay awake until 930pm and sleep until 5 am and get up and finish my papers. That would be like getting up at 10am in Dakar, which would start to prepare the circadian rhythms of my sleep cycle to deal with the change in time and light.
Well, the plan was all well and good. I filled up the tank with gasssss on that end of town and found a Bitchin Kitchen to eat at. Not my primary choice in dining, but I thought it better to not waste gassss by trying to find some independent granola diner that may not even exist. Plus I was really cracked out from no sleep and there is construction all over 151, which makes it very easy for accidents to happen. I figured the less driving the better. I sat down and ate my white trash breakfast (only they called it the griddlefavorite or some shit) and was totally absorbed by my book (also a recommened book to read!) when, instead of page 49 the inside title page appeared. Stone Butch Blues. Leslie Feinburg. WTF? I paged through and sure enough, the entire first part of the book through page 48 had been inserted twice into the the book. Fucked, I thought, but whatever; I flipped to the end of the second first part to find page 49 but there was no fucking 49. 49 through 96 is totally missing.
I stared at the book for awhile. I didn't have the receipt and anyway I had bought the book somewhere all the way on the west side when we went to REI to get mosquito netting, water purification gear, etc. I didn't know where the hell that store was and as pissed and hooked as I was I didn't think it was useful to go that far. I didn't bring anything else to do and for some reason NPR doesn't broadcast news or talk radio all the time on one channel here, so I couldn't even sit in the car until 10 to wait for the shopping shithole to open up.
I went home. I thought I could at least start writing my papers. Nope. I was so foul I decided to work on this webpage and proceeded to do that until I noticed it was like 1pm. I went back to the everfucking mall, I was supercrackedout and pissy, like evil im going to eat you foul. The everfucking shopping clerks wouldnt leave me alone, either and all the people looked the same trying desperately to look cool and walk cool and be in but they just looked like manipulated-tv-americans. I did find a pair of pants. They are kind of ugly, but super comfortable and other than lacking cargo pockets almost exactly what I was looking for.
Then I tried to buy a pair of sandals at some store. The store is about 10ft by 15ft tops, and all the merchandise is perfectly visible. But there were three snively looking white male clerks in there. One said, can I help you? No thanks, I said. Well, is there a particular style you are looking for that I can direct you to? he said.
Was he fucking deaf and dumb? Did I not say no thanks? could he not see that i was in a fucking bad mood by the disgusted scowl on my face? Maybe he thought I just always looked like that cuz he hadnt seen me before. No. I'm just looking I said. I was trying not to be a total bitch about the way I said it but i think some of it leaked through cuz he laughed nervously and said ok well let me know... and left me the fuck alone. Thank god.
Then I actually found a pair of sandals I liked and asked the nearest clerk, a different one, if he had them in a size 9. I also asked what justified the price as $70. He told me they were "on sale" from being $75. Like 5 bucks makes a fucking difference with that price. He proceeded to compare them to a pair of $5 sandals and gave all sorts of jibberish. He said the shoes he was wearing were the same brand and he'd had them for about 4 years. Somehow I doubt a shoesales clerk only owns one pair of shoes and is giving them constant wear so that figure really didn't impress me much. He came back with a size 10, and some other sandals in a size 9. The size 10 didn't fit despite the clerk trying to convince me that it did. One of the other pairs did and was actually pretty comfortable but I didn't like the style and if I'm going to fork out nearly 100 dollars for some fuking sandals i had better LOVE them.
Then he pulled out this pair that was a high heel sandal with no ankle strap and asked me if that was something I was interested in. Yes, how can you tell? Considering that the pair I wanted looks nothing like that I'm sure you knew by comparing the two that I might like it. No. It has a heel. That shit fucks up your alignment and mkes my knee hurt. But, I forgot, I'm a girl, and about 75% of the shoes made for girls are high-heeled, so I probably want to hurt myself in orderto be stylish and sexy, right. FUCK.
No thanks, I said. While I was trying on the two sandals he asked what had happened to my boots, noticing their condition. Nothing. I said, looking at him I'm sure like he was a total ass. I really didn't want to be such a cunt but he was kneeling in front of me, way the fuck more in my space than I was comfortable with. I was afraid he was going to try to put my sandals on for me. I didn't want some clerk in my face I wanted to try on some shoes and maybe buy them if I liked them. Couldn't he just LEAVE me be to try on the shit myself?? And he kept saying such dumb shit! Christ, I wore them every day rain and snow for three years and my ass is actually out in the weather, not just walking across a parking lot or a shoveled sidewalk from some KARRRRGH to a house or job or store.
But all I said was "nothing. I've worn them every day for three years." Well, did they serve you well then? He asked. GOD I HATE SMALL TALK Yes, I said, otherwise I wouldn't have worn them for that long. I was having a hard time not being sarcastic in my voice as well as my thoughts...then he was like, well, we'll have to get you a new pair of boots while you're here.
I then made the mistake of telling him I don't need boots because I was going to Africa where it's hot. More dumb comments and questions. The last person in the world I wanted to repeat myself for is this fucking clerk. After I told him I didn't want the sandals he tried to "direct me to some similar sandals in the store." The store is TINY. I already looked around, he watched me do it, and I'm not impaired in any manner that would prevent me from seeing what the selection was. FUCK. I told him that there were other stores and I'm sure I could find something. That wasn't what his commission ass wanted to hear. Then he trapped me, when I was perfectly clear I didn't want any goddamn merchandise, in some inane comment that he wasn't totally ignorant about world issues cuz he had heard on the radio how in China these farmers are getting good cash for garlic by selling it to the USA (I kept thinking MONOCROP and STRUCTURAL ADJUSTMENT PROGRAM) and how to Them getting a shed or a car was a huge deal and how he thinks he should be making more based on some of his accomplishments but if he compares him self more worldwide then he's pretty ok.
Sigh.... his attempt at relating to me took the anger out of my voice. I don't remember what I said back but it was something noncommital and soft. I left. Our education just sucks. I don't think people mean to be so stupid, shallow, ignorant, consumerist. They don't know how else to be. They want the everholy dollar. The good life means a boat on a lake and a cabin up north. But the good life really, to me, means love and community and a healthy diet. It means learning and reading and exercising (like biking and walking and dancing)in whatever way is gratifying...someday I hope to be more compassionate towards the flock, and towards my enemies like GW and Phil Knight. I am when I dig deep, but it's so easy to be angry and disgusted. And when I think about people as the flock I am separating myself from them, which I'm sure my ego likes. But I have the same archetypal faults, they are just slightly different in detail. I also am a lot more informed on human rights issues and environmental issues than a good deal of Americans. Part of that is because I seek it out, but why do I seek it out? Many of the paths I've been on that lead me here have been without any choice of mine. I need to work on humility and humbleness... I need to let go of hate. I need to stop Othering.
