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TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER

an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
& other curiosities :: elsewhere :: profile


12.18.02, wednesday nite

Um, yes. It's quite sad. In cafes and on buses and past shops and pinball arcades, I find myself thinking about material necessities and desires in terms of the number nine. As in $9/hr, part-time.

Purple fishnets $1.99 = yes. (P)Elvis-electric blue suede ankle-strap heels $3.99 = definitely yes. Red winter coat $49 = impossible, because that is little over than 5 hours work and I really need to save up for rent and red is not a practical color for a winter coat, mummy insisted, because coats that keep you warm are expensive and should be worn for a very very long time. (And yes, I know, I need to find another job.)

This morning, I kicked the train ticket machine because it sucked my five-doll-ah bill but refused to spit out my five-doll-ah ticket. Now my big toe hurts.






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