10 December 1999 6:45 pm (Scribbled on an envelope I used as a journal bookmark)

Waiting for a bus at the metal outpost in front of W.O. Poplar.

Things I should be learning: my own flippancy and lack of concern are my problem.  My stuckness is my problem.  My unwillingness to compromise is my problem.  (As Karen said, my passivity is my problem.)

My horoscope for one day last week said, “Your personal concerns need more time than you’ve been giving them.  You will need to make some compromises.”

I wonder if it meant this?

A group of [guys]– all quite young — probably too young to be cute — just strolled by.  One of them wore quite possibly the ugliest bell-bottoms I’ve ever seen on a guy.  They were sky blue with white fluffy clouds on his [ass?] and a tear up one leg.  As they went inside, I caught a glimpse of M. looking very professional (if wolfishly so) with a broom and dustpan in hand.  I found myself thinking how nice it was that had grown out of his habit of dressing so out….  [Then these words, scratched out: “I transfered my thoughts, from on him to me — or the”…]


Jotted upside down at the bottom:

Java Cabana

@ Autumn tonight


2080 Cov. Pike

#34 — 4:34

to         4:54

Waln. Grove

& Perkins

trans. to #30

5:00/5:30  N


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