The Girl Called Rachel

Poetry (Wo)Man

I hate to preface myself but I will.                                                                                                                                                                                                                       No, I won’t… Do whatever you want, if you are even reading this in the first place. That’s what I’ve decided to do.

I want to write a story in which one of the characters has a neighbor who hums too loudly.

He has a rent-controlled apartment by the park that he gives up because of a floormate’s persistent humming and his girlfriend dumps him. Is that a reason to break up with someone who would give up a great place for something so trivial? I think so. It’s probably a sign of erratic behavior in the future.

Would someone break up a party of people who were just humming? Could it get so loud even in a filled apartment that someone would call the cops? It’s not a very offensive activity. It might even be soothing in a womb-like way. People are humming in unison next door and through the walls you can sleep and relax like it was your mother’s dulcet tones when you were just a fantasy of her future child.

Like sleeping on a rocking boat. The best sleep I’ve ever had.

I started this new thing today: When I really want to go out and buy food that I don’t need to eat, I’ll take some of the money that I would have wasted on junk and use it to help someone. Today, after work, I was on my way to buy a frozen pizza. Before I could get to the grocery store I passed the flower stand outside of the market. I started thinking that I would really like to have some flowers in my apartment, and then, after finding cool, beautiful flowers that I’ve never seen before, I decided to buy them for my manager/friend who attended her grandma’s funeral today. It was just a humble bouquet, not fit for a funeral, but it showed that I was thinking of her and she might want some nice flowers. It’s good for me to spend my money on charity and friendship or a nice gift for myself rather than waste it on tools of isolation.

I think I’m going to really test what I can possibly do with this blog. “I don’t know how many years on this Earth I got left. I’m gonna get real weird with it.” I’ve never even looked at some of those buttons up there.

Living life is so much for me about all 5 senses. How are we watching people in movies and TV or even looking at art, totally satisfied, without smelling what they smelled and hearing what they heard. That seems incredibly unfulfilling. un-full – feeling. I love to notice everything in the periphery. One of my favorite ever things in life is when an actor is so still that you can see the pulse in his neck or a twitch in his finger. I reminds me that we aren’t all that different.

Maybe you should refer to the beginning before the following.



Is 1-800-FLOWERS over-filling their bouquets? I’m no botanist, but it would seem like the stems need to be exposed to a certain amount of water to survive for the time you would like your 80 dollar flowers to last. If they would naturally die for the sake of the florist being able to create a perfectly round and grandiose bunch, do they have some kind of preservative in them? Do I really care about this?

How do these flowers get water?

I don't want to tell anyone how to spend money, but... I don't want them.

God. I feel a little like Gary Busey. Yikes.

Kurt Elling is probably the most confident person in the world. I imagine that’s what my Dad doesn’t like about him.

I just cracked my knuckles exactly to the tune “We’re In The Money”

Do you ever notice that happening in nature? Or hearing the same pattern of sounds all throughout a day.

How do people write music? Is some of it accidental? What we all think was genius on the part of the composer was really inspired by the way pinecones fell off a tree when a squirrel jumped on it?

I’m talking to this blog like she is my friend. Like I am sitting in my living room and telling my best friend that I feel like Gary Busey. Something totally irrelevent, ridiculous or banal, but it doesn’t matter because you will say a thousand things today and some will mean a lot and some will mean a little and some very very little. But your best friend is the one who can sit with you and hear all of your shit and know dramas, but she sticks with you because she hears a few good things in between.

Mmm! Burnt apple!

Mmm! Burnt apple!

Christine is a woman with problems and a sense of humor. Why don’t people watch this show? Great great cast, great rhythm with each other. I honestly think it’s hilarious! I think Julia Louis-Dreyfus is so much more courageous a comedian than so many other actors pretending to be funny. She’s willing to look ugly and she her character has questionable morals. The vaseline screen is a little distracting, but on the whole this is a funny show.

But honestly, has there been an agreement between the writers of various sitcoms that the scripts will now be peppered with previous taboos? There have been some shocking jokes this season.

Let’s keep track. I’m sure I’ll add more later. (This may not be for the faint of heart. Mom, if you ever read this, stop now.):

  • New Christine deepthroats
  • The first two episodes of Scrubs (I haven’t watched since because it was ruined in the move to ABC) in their entirety. The only thing in Ted’s briefcace is a loaded gun? His depression is no longer light-hearted joke. Woah.