You're no good for me, im no good for you

more than just American Woman-guised anti-war talk. Though it's true with that too. ENOUGH WAR! BRING TROOPS HOME, AND DEOCCUPY IRAQ! ok.

Cold weather is coming.

It's chilly here. i hear it's really cold and dark in Champaign now

Leaving work a few hours ago, I passed more people on 5th Avenue wearing coats than not. From June until late September, New York nights are beautifully balmy, short-sleeved affairs. You could sleep on the roof through early fall if you didn't mind being woken up by those little kids in one of many windows of one of the many surrounding buildings who yell "Hey, white lady!" "Hey, Chinese lady!" at you almost every time you're up there.

Tonight at the Lotus, there is not a bare arm in sight.

i've been working late a lot lately. It is a big job. And i am a Sissiphus in the City. After at least three months strewn with way too many 9 and 10pm check outs, I am going to make a point to leave, from here on out, by 6:30 at the latest. Capricorn and stupid futile idealism aside, i should give only so much of myself to this effort.

i was thinking today about how they let you smoke in airports in Spain. There are signs and periodic announcements that ask you kindly to consider only doing so in the designated smoking area, but no one pays any mind to them. People walk through termials trailing smoke, while others create small personal cirrus clouds over themselves in slow moving ques. The chairs in the central taped-off smoking areas sit empty, looking stikingly like evidence-cleared crime scenes. To cross the line seems like it would bring with it an assured indictment from society. Spain, with strong anarchist streak, is a smart country made up of independent thinkers. They're not buying it.

I guess I bring this up because i miss smoking these days. New York has effectively outlawed the sale of all French cigarettes, so, though I partake in less than 2 cigarettes a week on a normal, no-visitor week these days, being cut off to my supplier has fucked up my stability and made me a little desparate-feeling. My original plan, soon after Jolie passed away and i decided to give up giving up cigarettes, was to go back to only smoking foreign fags, since, based on no research at all, they get less cancers there. Now, my brand is banned. And i think of Spain. And of her. And of weird things.

Tomorrow, probably, i will close my bedroom window. This summer, the tree next to our flat grew like wildfire. and some mutant, tenacious branch moved from just barely crossing into my fire escape to snaking its way past and through my open window. Up until last week, the bough worked its way through the poorly affixed widow screen into my bedroom. From there, it climbed up the inner window frame, and moved quickly across my ceiling. It was pretty amazing, growing inches every day, and pushing its way into possibly interesting spaces, like the bookshelf. It was a curious foilage. Unfortunately, it also scattered a ton of dead leaves everywhere. My housemate's shopping habits find us with more than enough fruit flies in our apartment to feel the need to welcome in other tree-bourne critters. So, with some effort, i cut the bough back. The main branch dropped a bit in the process. What's left on the other side of my window now covers my nakedness to the outside with a really nice arch of leaves. Looks really lovely.