ENTRY # 83 What do you do for comfort? Cream of wheat, with butter, sugar and milk; buy a slammin’ outfit…used to cut my hair when it belonged only to me. My boys run to me, so I can hold them. There are ready arms, if I choose to go there. Why cant I just go? Why the reticence? If I said, I dont want to talk…itd be okay. But the arms and the reason and the need for comfort are all jumbled, and its too hot to be eating mush.
ray orkwis, email@example.com, 126.96.36.199, 1060115053, 2004-05-16 20:41:18, Sometimes it gets too hot *not* to eat mush. This morning in Washington, after a hot shower, my body would not let me get dry. The air was hung over with humidity and my clothes, when I put them on, stuck to me like the smell of whiskey. There was only one remedy: hot coffee and bear mush. Just as one takes comfort in spice in tropical climes, one takes comfort in temperature in these dog days. Otherwise, lifes a wetmop inside and out. That was comfort between 7:00 and 7:30, while reading the Post. Sometimes, just as one parses day-to-day into minute-by-minute (a three-minute pop song can be ecstasy), comfort sweeps past our vision, sometimes 24 frames a second. I take my comforts where they find me. God knows theres enough discomfort designed into life as well as what naturally occurs there for us to indulge in release. Right now Im looking at pictures of three women above my desk: Katherine Hepburn, looking wistful and all of 25; Iva Bittova, impish and self-contained; and Margie Gillis, in two poses — in one photo defying gravity, hair swept behind her, gown swept above and away from her and the floor shes pushed up from; in the other, shes all straight posture and elegance in slouch hat and buttoned bodice, her very long hair braided down past her hips, her high-necked dress buttoned in front, the buttons like tiny spines silouetted against the lack of background. I take comfort in their eyes, as I do in the empty tub (a still from a Peter Greenaway film) above them. As I say, 24 frames a second sometimes. Hope theres some comfort in the reading, as there was in the writing. Anyway, cheers and sweaty glasses of ice tea, for them what wants em.
Elouise, firstname.lastname@example.org, 188.8.131.52, 1060116011, 2004-05-16 20:41:18, There is comfort in the reading, the writing…and food. Always food. and drink. (Am making ice tea – n o w).
George, email@example.com, http://ghw.wordherders.net, , 184.108.40.206, 1060406557, 2004-05-16 20:41:18, Vegetarian grocery store sushi and a comic book.