sometimes i don't answer the door

i took the bus downtown this morning. at approximately 9:30 am i received a call on my cell phone. when i got off the phone about 4 minutes later, i realized the verging-on-but-not-quite-yet-homeless guy next to me was chugging a forty. i believe it was steel reserve, but i tried not to stare.

yesterday while i was waiting for the ferry at around 11:30 am, a woman in her forties who was dressed like a nordstrom’s mannequin asked the attendant if she could bring her dog on board. the attendant commented on the breed of the dog and it became clear–slurred words, inability to focus her eyes clear–that the woman with the dog was hammered.

visibly intoxicated adults should be trucked to high school assemblies. they always make me silently swear to a life of unimpeachable sobriety.

on a completely different note, here are the low-quality pictures i took on my cell phone this summer:

i saw this sweet trailer and took a picture of it for these port angeles friends of mine/my parents, who are into these trailers and just bought one. only i don’t have their cell phone number or their email address. but still: sam and katie, this one’s for you.

this is the clallam county fair, a ranger and the elephant ear stand. for some reason, a bunch of my ranger friends were not familiar with the term “elephant ears”. is this only a west coast thing? i mean they must have something similar on the east coast. i would hope.

this is a book about the wild west, which they sold at the convenience store where i would fill up the car for work. which reminds me: i saw 3:10 to yuma today. i’m completely into it. of course, it’s no deadwood but what not just anyone can right that kind of perfectly brilliant and unintelligible dialogue? it isn’t predictable, it has christian bale and the old west and it reminds me of this cd-rom computer game my brother and i used to play called maddog. in SUCH A GOOD WAY. you know what? i even like russel crowe! and that is very rare! but then again, I LOVE THE OLD WEST. sometimes i wish i were a boy just so i could wear a hat like a bandit. you know how they wear hats. it’s something only men can really do. a hat that is like a baby and a gun and your pants all mixed together. man i love those hats.

and here is me in a hat. like a girl. i bought this hat in canada. in this picture i am returning from canada on a ferry.

i already posted this ranger picture but i like it. and the hat is actually pretty tough.

this is my dad on the ferry. i can see this whole thing is devolving quickly into an entry all about sweet looking hats.

or maybe not. this is a weird halfbreed quail/pigeon i saw in tiburon yesterday. you can’t see it that well but i swear it is a pigeon with this pathetic little wispy feather on its head (a bird hat?) and the neck movements of a quail. it looks very very sad and ugly and hungry. the religious right should adopt this bird.

ha! another hat! i really wish i had bought this hat at rei in portland. it looked a lot like a traffic cone and it was only $5. and my mean family talked me out of it. hey family, maybe my nose wouldn’t be shedding chunks of skin if you’d let me buy this hat.

this is my cat. i miss my cat. she doesn’t wear hats. i think my love for giro, which is her name, is causing a problem in my relationship with the cat that lives in my apartment. i don’t get along with that cat. and the other day i didn’t feed him when i was “supposed” to and now i think my roommate thinks i am an animal abuser. giro probably does too. but what is pet owning if it isn’t animal abuse? that’s right, i’m a day closer to 25 and still totally totally wise.