drinking coffee elsewhere-zz packer

how many addicts walk amongst us? this is the question that holds together the jumble that is nurse jackie (where paul feig meets wendy and lisa), sexy beasts (hey, abyssinian creole), and the influence of whitney in my brain-RIP. this title came off that giant list that came out of the afternoon i spent absorbing back issues of bust magazine in the centre for women and trans people’s library-yea. btw, they have an excellent free monthly film series-complete with delicious vegan snacks.

style. that’s the only thing i’m considering whist declaring my love for this collection of stories:

“He’s so stupid, he’s brilliant; so outside the realm of any rationality that reason stammers and stutters when facing him.” (82, The Ant of the Self)

“‘Bird crap doesn’t have an odor,’ my father says. ‘That’s the paradox of birds.’
‘She loved these birds,’ I say. ‘And you just took them away.’
‘They learned best when stressed out,’ he says. ‘Why do you think they say ‘Arriba!’ all the time? They get it from the Mexicans who’re all in a rush to get them exported.’
He almost knocks me off kilter with that one, but I stick to the point.” (83-4, The Ant of the Self)

bailing your father out of jail + hearing his investment advice + being hijacked to the million man march to sell tropical birds = brilliants.

also, writing corrections in the margins of a library book is like writing on the walls of the bathroom, especially when you correct them wrong. but bigups for using pencil. i once wrote in pencil in a library book….


One thought on “drinking coffee elsewhere-zz packer

  1. “the best style is the style you don’t notice” is the quote i just read from wordpress. spooky.

    i love her descriptions of peoples’ skin complexions-an antique bound book, penny, paper bag, good scotch…her descriptions of everything else are pretty freakin’ spectacular, too:

    “The troop leader had girls under her arm, and all the rest of the girls crowded about her. It reminded me of a hog I’d seen on a field trip, where all the little hogs gathered about the mother at feeding time, latching onto her teats.” (22, Brownies)

    “And at exactly that moment, it hit her, right below the gut, a sharp pain, and she imagined her uterus, that Texas-shaped organ, the Rio Grande of her monthly woman troubles flushing out to the Gulf.” (32, Every Tongue Shall Confess)

    “She used the steady bad-ass eyes she’d practiced in the mirror for her class. Bonza chucked his head to the side as though his wife were some sort of poem he’d read, hadn’t understood, and had dismissed.” (61, Our Lady of Peace)

    “Outside, autumn is over, and yet it’s not quite winter. Indiana farmlands speed past in black and white. Beautiful. Until you remember that the world is supposed to be in color.” (77, The Ant of the Self)

    “On Greenmount Avenue you could read schoolbooks-that was understandable. The government and your teachers forced you to read them. But anything else was antisocial. It meant you’d rather submit to the words of some white dude than shoot the breeze with your neighbors.” (118, Drinking Coffee Elsewhere)

    “It was dark. As I touched her hair, it seemed as though I could smell it, too. Not a shampoo smell. Something richer, murkier. A bit dead, but sweet, like the decaying wood of a ship.” (124)

    “She went into the bathroom so that she could look in the mirror as she played, but she was so proud of herself, she couldn’t get through three bars of music without seeing a goofy smile creep up her mouthpiece.” (166, Speaking in Tongues)

    “Then it hit her with a sadness: if sex and birth meant being part of someone, then death meant you belonged to nobody at all.” (173, Speaking in Tongues)

    i knew it would only be a matter of time before i read about a library whose podcast i listen to. until we meet in person, enoch pratt free library….

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