the ides of June

-G Street.
-sunset.
-the most arctic of valleys.
-the most pollinated of nations.
-I wanted to capture some unbridled glee.
-sexy, mysterious Glen Alps.
-bitten on my left eyelid by a fucking goddamn mosquito.
-hang glider!
-the city smells really nice.
-my hood.
-Coley Bear, my neighbor's filthy adorable dog with the ferrety tongue.
-the flattest of tops.

blink and you'll temporarily lubricate your eyeballs.

-my sunshiny north-facing window, 1030pm.
-the lair.
-a color-saturated redux of the first artsy jello shot. I actually haven't tried them yet; they were still slightly goopy last night and i had to, like, go to work today. they're nearly flammable; they'll keep.

okay, here's a story:
when my parents and I first moved to AK in 1983, we lived in a grotty apartment building on 14th & Orca in beautiful Fairview. our deck looked out over what was then the municipal dump. seagulls and garbage trucks and cub planes from Merrill Field, fuck yeah! it was almost serene.
my dad got a job at Alaska Builders Cache, which was then located at 9th & Orca. (it later moved to Fireweed and went out of business, and the building got painted purple and was turned into a bingo hall.) he worked there for several years. and once we moved out of Fairview, and I was one of those socially awkward kids who went to "special school" "outside of my district," I had the pleasure of being dropped off by the school bus at 901 Orca after school every day from the age of 4 until I was 7 or 8 and begged to be left alone at home.
a cabinet and carpet store, especially an old and creepy and cavernous one with absolutely no supervision, is kind of an awesome place to kill hours of one's life. I'd crawl on the bolts of fiberglassy floor insulation and design my fantasy hovel with wallpaper sample books. I'd collect wood chips and carpet scraps and hide the gross uneaten parts of my lunch in the storage rooms.
and I'd play outside. there used to be this weird shack with lots of cats next door, and the rest of the block was a vacant lot. I'd wander in the weeds with the broken glass and nearby dump and feel very alone and weird. I'd talk to myself. I'd write stories out loud. and I'd obsessively pull the dried hulls off the tops of the dandelions that grew everywhere.
so last night I rode over to Orca Street.
-dandelions still grow through the pavement.
-the building appears vacant.
it's eerie to see your life objectively, as an adult. I feel strangely protective of that introverted, lonely little nerd that was me.

-sunset from my doorstep, 11pm.
-Octavia admiring Sleeping Beauty.
-and sometimes nothing really changes.

the two-month anniversary

-looking west, 9pm-ish.
-cloudy tasty palpable fog-air. it smells like childhood and familiarity and home.
-facing east.
-my neighbor, jackie o.

a slow day at the office

-on the first warm night
low over point woronzof
and above my sulk

-mellow, dining moose!
hunker down on your moose knees!
allow me to leer.

-turkey, chicken, quail
the ova of a species!
devilled turchickail.

-"kids don't float" it says.
I immediately think
of horrid punchlines.

-a scenic surface
upon which to state your love
forever sea-lapped

-driftwood loveliness!
catalyst for poetry!
glint, you strumpet sun!

-my hair is mouth-length
in the mad wind at bird point.
I trip on this rock.

-nice roofline, stranger!
you could park a big truck there
and be like "awww yeah"

-lo! stuckagain heights!
your verdant hidden vistas!
I got eight bug bites.

-Alaskan backdrop
painted by the local school
to trick the tourists

-bad posture, bad teeth
liberal kids who don't call
a joyless sex life

wilted

-someone ordered something involving midori. it looked like antifreeze. they enjoyed it.
-the park strip.
-street life with coors.
-8th Ave, midnight.
-the overly dramatic filter. it's called "grunge 2", I'm afraid.
I love how everyone pulls over to observe the animals. this never gets old. people appreciate their surroundings here in the most uneven and unpredictable ways: throngs will appear to admire the sunset, for example, but nobody fucking recycles. the tap water is impeccable and comes from a pristine mountain lake, but they did away with vehicle emissions.
...this is another annoying subject for a more lucid time.
-the itty-bitty shitty kitty.
-sitting in my new car, which apparently has a fuel line issue and won't start. any other week I might find this slightly amusing. this isn't that week.

woke up this morning feeling fine

-whereas Seattle was a snooty, impossible-to-please, outwardly attractive bitch... Anchorage is that really nice girl who always makes you laugh and feel good, but she's not overtly too appealing until you catch her in a certain light and holy shit she's GORGEOUS. how did you not realize this sooner? she's kind, funny, AND alluring! and you realize you've been in love all along, you superficial jerk, and you don't really deserve her.
-misty mountain... stop. Girdwood.
-actually, it's "the Sally the", right?
-sexy, mysterious Anchorage skyline.
-another view of today's snowfall. I took it through the screen on purpose, but also because I am lazy. the snow's gone now and the sun is shining. NOW it shall be spring.
-from the coastal trail.
-Screeching Weasel on the Public Health building?
-ma chat d'amour.
-at the Captain Cook monument there's this placard of the various mountains and other things you can see.
-the secret, ultra-rooty trail by Chester Creek.