I can hardly believe it in the telling, but I experienced some old-fashioned, straight-up, show-biz-for-ugly-people Voter Pressure yesterday. Just a lil. A guy came up to me outside work, asked if I lived in the area, asked me if he could drive me to the polls. At least two, maybe three times. Any other fuckin city in the country that'd be the come-on line to end all come-ons, but he was serious. A little too much: he looked like a total operator, with a long black leather coat and one of those cellphone headset thingies. He would say things, then kinda look away while they were still hanging in the air. Very we-ask-the-questions. I asked him in my usual dumb compulsively curious way if he was a hired gun and why he was acting like he was in a Chandler novel and if he had been rounding up people in bars (he barely smiled; just lifted the corner of his mouth)--I think I would have gotten more out of him if I had been less entertained.

I shouldn't find politics in Chi so hilarious, but they really are.

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I was looking forward to reporting on just What's In the Smoothies I Make, but the thing is: it turns out smoothies are immediate expression of one's mood. They change. They are also an immediate expression of how much fun I have dumping things in a blender and seeing what happens. I really do love it; 'tis a very close activity to putting paintbrush to paper.

The smoothies are also gettin nastier-looking, with more bizarre textures and colors, the 'healthier' they become. Still works, though. For the bizarro world kind of picky eater I am, it works. In today's: flax seed oil, wheat germ, flavored seltzer, frozen strawberries, unsweetened applesauce, Emergen-C packets, The Wild Green Powder (see image--doesn't it look woo-woo?) and a substance that is just so silly I can't mention it here, but it helped sweeten things up a bit. Okay, a tiny dusting of strawberry Jell-O powder. I figured it went with the strawberries and the strawberry-flavored Emergen-C, right? Gave me a lil gelatin? Helps with nails and skin? Makes things a little less hopelessly Green?

The resultant mix is the color of your brush water after painting all afternoon. Browny green. I am on my second highball glass of it and feel pretty damn hyper. We'll see. It's been already a tough weird week and lord knows the infrastructure could use some bolstering. This isn't that kinda blog, but oy. Work and doctors. Not sure I'm going to need to eat for next 72 hrs.

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NOPE.
A non roman a clef story.

They are at the same restaurant, and comfortably engaged in the Dance of the Glances, back and forth. Oh he's looking at me, she thinks, I smell boy, and looks up a solid beat later to see him watching her, completely at ease. His head down. Hers down. His up. Up, down, up, down, a beat between each. Easy. What are you eating, are we having the same thing? Thai food in Chicago. Curry or rice or noodles. I know I don't need chopsticks they're not Thai but I want them.

At one point she picks up her purse to get her credit card but also fiddle prettily with her hands and self, flitting through various items. He watches as she pulls out of her bag and languidly begins reading a:

prescription.

The End.