Memphis, racoons, bus attitudes and elvis costello

I've been in Memphis what, 3 days now? I'm still pretty messed up in a jet lagged/culture shocked way.

I'm still on SF time, which is *really* late waking up here. There... mildly so.

I don't want to have to use a car to get anywhere, but I fear I must. The transport here is a secret system of stealth buses that people don't want you to know about. I dare not ask a white person about the schedule or what's the deal, firstly, because I don't want to hear:
"What? Do you need to score drugs?"
"Can't I just be green or avoid unnecessary costs to my budget that I could use towards travelling or... beer?"
"Ah... you're a heroin addict! White people don't ride the bus..."
"No!"

Even walking down the street, I forgot about the silly attitudes that it's somehow not as accepted to travel down the street unless you're in a car. Like waiting at a stop light as a pedestrian...

"WTF? You're on foot? Is something wrong? Did you're car break down?"
"No, I was just wanting to go for a walk down the main drag, because I like to see what's in my surroundings and get exercise."
"Walking to walk? ....you're a junkie!"
"No!"

Though, in my walk about today, I was walking through partially residentials, when a black woman said:

"You see that?!"
"Um... yeah." (I looked over to my right, to see a dude in front of a door acting a little suspicious, perhaps a break in?)
"I've never seen one of those during the day."
"Yeah, me neither."
"That's a racoon."
"Ah yes, a racoon." (As I continued to look back to see if the guy was breaking into the house. I began to add that term to my vocabulary. Racoon - someone who does a b&e during the day...)
"And in my neighborhood, too!"
"Such a shame..."

...and just as I was about to leave that exchange alone, a fat ass racoon passed by.

Damn... a racoon means ... a racoon. (See also: Avril Lavigne.)

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All those times I tried to stop smoking, halfassed or otherwise... nothing is better than a nagging, wannabe jewish mother. I've not smoked in front of her, nor have I made any sort of exhibition. But it's like in high school, if I had smoked in high school. I've got to do all the tricks. Going outside and far away down the block. Shower, fan, open window. Then brush my teeth, wash my face, take a shower, wash my clothes. Though, the last clean part, my mom wants me to do that anyway, because she's a germiphobe, so I'm just playing into her wishes. ....and she plays into mine. Mwahaa..

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My cat clawed me in the gum today. That's a badass manx. That's what I get for harassing the cat. I'm going to watch myself in my sleep. She might trying to do that soap bar in a sock thing, like in Full Metal Jacket. I did accidentally kick her in my sleep last night.

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Elvis Costello will be here April 22, because this is my track record...

Moved to Seattle - April 6, 2005. EC performed - April 6.
Moved to SF - April 20, 2007. EC performed - May 3rd.

I think he's stalking me.

"But aren't you stalking him?"
"No. I just happen to like him and he follows me around."
"How does he follow you?"
"You know, I show up to say like a random hotel. And I just keep walking the halls for 4 hours. It's a hobby of mine. If people ask what I'm doing, I just tell people, 'room service'? Then he shows up. It's so random. Then, I'm like Elvis, what are you doing here?"
"You're stalking him. Stop. I'll have you arrested. Seek help. Now."

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