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For World Book Night yesterday, mom and I put books on people's cars like the religious rubbish I always find on mine. My literature was about a different god though. That was exciting for me. Passing along the good word about books. I'm about that. It was also Fahrenheit 451, which is not my favorite Ray Bradbury book but obviously I love it because he's an amazing writer and his work never fails to make me fall desperately in love with the human race all over again despite its many, many failings. (Kinda like watching Doctor Who.)


Overheard a woman at work saying a lovely sentence: my cousin was married to Juicy.

That's it.

I wrote that shit down the minute she finished saying it. What a friggin' sentence, man. 'My cousin was married to Juicy.' I have so many questions.


A woman I basically grew up with comes into the one branch frequently and when she looks me, there is not even the slightest flash of recognition in her face. She knew me through the end of grade school and all through high school, the period of your life where you do a great deal of changing physically. She knew me before I had glasses, knew me when I got them, before I had braces, when I got those, when I got those taken off; she knew me while I was gradually getting taller because I'm short so naturally I didn't have a sudden growth spurt. I spent countless days and nights at her house with my best friend and she looks me in the eye and there isn't even a glimmer. I don't register to her at all. She's seen my name tag, that also means nothing. She knew my mother and her family and I wonder if she would recognize any of them anymore, or if they've been obliterated like me. It's stunning. Other than that, she doesn't show any other signs of memory loss or deterioration. She drives herself to the library, she reads constantly, her hearing was always a little bad when I knew her and it doesn't seem to have gotten any worse really, she knows off the top of her head that May 15 is a Wednesday this year (when her books are due back). So at a glance, it seems like the only thing she's forgetting is me. Which I guess, having not spoken to her in almost another decade, isn't too much to complain about. It just makes me curious about the brain and its workings.