The other day I went to Borders to buy a birthday present. I asked three different clerks where they had books in Spanish. And I found out two things: One, that Borders' workers are there, as I suspected, to be aloof, not to actually provide assistance, similar to the clerks at Abercrombie. I think the two groups would be horrified to find themselves compared to each other. Two, that foreign language books share the farthest, hidden away corner of Borders with Erotica. When I finally found the section, it was already occupied by a fat middle aged man, sitting on the floor, reading a bright orange book UPSIDE DOWN, so I grabbed the first book I could find with the word "Yo" in the title and got the HECK OUTTA THERE.
Speaking of highbrow literature, I'd like to end this entry with something I swore would be one of the first things I'd post with my new computer in the privacy of my own apartment. A beautiful poem someone wrote for me after our first date, that single handedly ended my desire to, like, date.
Three pages into "The Absence of Carolyn," (original spelling and punctuation included.)
"That woman inside her I wouldn't dare touch.
Yes, the woman inside her is oh so precious.
And I wish for her happiness, joy, success and plus:
Just one simple answer to dispell my lack
Of a sure understanding, just one off'ring back."
Speaking of highbrow literature, I'd like to end this entry with something I swore would be one of the first things I'd post with my new computer in the privacy of my own apartment. A beautiful poem someone wrote for me after our first date, that single handedly ended my desire to, like, date.
Three pages into "The Absence of Carolyn," (original spelling and punctuation included.)
"That woman inside her I wouldn't dare touch.
Yes, the woman inside her is oh so precious.
And I wish for her happiness, joy, success and plus:
Just one simple answer to dispell my lack
Of a sure understanding, just one off'ring back."
posted by Carolyn at
4:02 PM
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