the sweetest things are taking so long

yesterday was a good egg. picked up my mom and headed to home depot for the white bathroom tiles for my xmas cards and polyurethane for her. as we were both in good spirits and just minorly suffering from our physical ailments [ankle, hip, laziness], our spirits were in high form, acutely perceptive to every crazy person, each nuts situation, all the "pleasantly confused" old people who fill in the empty recesses of society. like the gas station employee who looked and me and started doing some little dancing to the english-language indian dance music over the loudspeaker. the boy working at the sub shop in royal oak was one of those types who thinks that everything he says is not only supremely interesting and witty, he is also the first to have said and thought such astute observations. "i haven't watched mtv since the 90s. not since they stopped playing music on there." okay, i get it, DUDE. how long has mtv had this format? so long i can't even remember! and since then, how many dufuses [sp?] like yourself have made the very same comment? so many, so many i can't even remember. so so many my ears throb hot and hard every time i must hear it again. the boy also couldn't talk and make a sub at the same time. somehow, my usually-perceptive mother was decidedly unperceptive to this or chose to ignore it or wished to humor him, participating in a full-on conversation with the dufus. as i have an absolutely low tolerance for people like him, i left those two babbling [like making those spit-bubbles i was perhaps a little too fond of as a child] back and forth and picked up my thai food.

all this talk of "back and forth" reminds me of miranda july's movie me and you and everyone we know that i watched friday. "you poop into my butt hole and i poop into your butt hole... back and forth... forever." man that kid! if you know me, you know i very rarely laugh out loud at entertainment. you should have seen me knitting alone to the movie, laughing like a fool at that little kid. people have been saying lately that i don't like children [i prefer it to be an issue of favorability, but nonetheless a true statement frequently followed also by animals, foreigners, old people and mentally handicapped], but if you can whip up THAT kid for me, i would be happy.

lots of knitting means lots of movies. yesterday was capturing the friedmans, which was perhaps way too much for me to consider writing about it. it's a documentary about a father and son charged with pedophilia, but it's so nuts. the family's INSANE. one of friedman brothers is new york's #1 birthday clown. you should probably watch it.

so that too-expensive [20$!] iron and wine/calexico show was last night, and at the last minute, s procured us a way onto the guest list. the show was way sold out and way packed and a total reunion where it's more like a big party with your friends than a show where people arrive independent of each other and pay admission. it's nights like those that tug your heart in favor of detroit, in favor of the city you grew up in. there's some sense of ownership involved in the relationship between city and fully-raised-there person, but i'm unsure who's on top.

perhaps the very best part of the night came at the end when we went for late-night eats in mexicantown, wishing for los galanes to be open but having already mentally resigned and accepted our fate of dining late-night-style at one of the suburbanite-packed sub-par mexican establishments still open and serving after the bar. but oh! los galanes was totally totally open, mexican-band-with-strobe-light-and-dance-party in full effect, ready and almost seemingly waiting and almost EXCITED to serve us our favorite high-caliber mexican foods. 2am and the patrons were twirling and spinning and whipping each other around with so much fervor it made me tired just to watch. after praying for a chair and shifting your weight from one shoe from sears to another for an entire iron and wine show, you can imagine that such exhaustion is almost compulsory.