This morning on the TV-screen, there was a special about local firemen who had become vegetarians together. They were cooking each other some vegetarian pizza down at the station. NOW I SHARE AMERICA'S LOVE OF FIREMEN! They were so dear. I wanted to cook them foods and knit them sweaters.
Another overworked fascination of the public, previously obscure to me, is clothes. I just realized that even though last month's spending spree was out-of-character because it involved a lot of new clothes purchases, I have always liked clothes. I like clothes in a certain way: I instinctively know what I like; I have my very own fashion season that lives only inside my own head; I often think of clothes I'm wearing as a costume of some kind, even if no one else would be able to tell what it represented, or even that it was different; I like to have lots of clothes around, to have a good selection when creating the aformentioned costume, so I rarely throw things out, which is why I have shirts from 8th grade still in the repertoire. And sometimes I don't think about clothes at all, and look just awful (but unintentionally, as opposed to when I'm wearing certain weird clothes for a reason and look awful, though I guess my *intention* is almost never to look awful).
Stuck in the brain: Bill Withers, Use Me