"i don't need this stuff, and i don't need you!" (the jerk)

• ...well, the latter part's not true, but we HAVE been talking about throwing stuff out. it's tricky when you like living out of a suitcase as well as collecting lots of stuff, two seemingly contradictory states, but then, i seem to live quite a lot in two different states (not texas & california, either)... (oh, heh, someone's humor is rubbing off on me.) :) this should be one of the worst days ever, but i feel strangely ok at this second. might be an advantage of having such a poor memory a lot of the time. situationally poor, that is. mama would say strategically poor. doctor might say  dissociated-poor. whatever it is, i feel ok, tired brain & body. we ended the eve w/a run thru an actual neighborhood in this town. nice to know there are neighborhoods here, not just luxury cars & entitled drivers & endless apartment complexes & surfer dudes & dudettes & tourists & expensive vacuous shopping malls. james has the killer pace of a future race-winner. mom & dad asked if his smoking interferes w/his running & i shrugged no. they both chuckled at this yet-another example of james's superior mutant physiology... i am slow & steady but strong, fueled by the rhythmically reassuring pleasure of feet against earth & my imagined connection to meso-american ancestors... i will never win a race except that i will finish, & in so doing, i win them all... the other night at harvelle's i kicked butt. it was a great feeling, knowing i had kicked butt. people tell me i'm talented. i know what i have, w/o arrogance. most of the time i don't feel like anything special except that i am jenny & in that, i am special, like every one of us is special in our distinct personhood, & at the same time universal. but wednesday at harvelle's, i kicked butt. i just love coming offstage wearing a sheen of well-earned happy sweat. james gave me the kindest compliment yet in support of my performance, in support of me as his wife. he went out there & kicked butt, even after he had an accident onstage & was injured. i noticed & came running out, but he stomped ahead. james is all-man & the show must go on, no matter what. he is a born performer, entertainer, "future movie star." that's enough of that for now.
  

  
  

  from the sages, some words about stuff:  
• Navin: I don't need this stuff, and I don't need you. I don't need anything except this. [picks up an ashtray] And that's it and that's the only thing I need, is this. I don't need this or this. Just this ashtray. And this paddle game, the ashtray and the paddle game and that's all I need. And this remote control. The ashtray, the paddle game, and the remote control, and that's all I need. And these matches. The ashtray, and these matches, and the remote control and the paddle ball. And this lamp. The ashtray, this paddle game and the remote control and the lamp and that's all I need. And that's all I need too. I don't need one other thing, not one - I need this. The paddle game, and the chair, and the remote control, and the matches, for sure. And this. And that's all I need. The ashtray, the remote control, the paddle game, this magazine and the chair. [walking outside] And I don't need one other thing, except my dog. [dog growls] I don't need my dog.
• - George Carlin: If you didn't have so much stuff, you wouldn't need a house. You could just walk around all the time. A house is just a pile of stuff with a cover on it... And when you leave your house, you gotta lock it up. Wouldn't want somebody to come by and take some of your stuff... That's what your house is, a place to keep your stuff while you go out and get...more stuff! Sometimes you gotta move, gotta get a bigger house. Why? No room for your stuff anymore. Did you ever notice when you go to somebody else's house, you never quite feel a hundred percent at home? You know why? No room for your stuff. Somebody else's stuff is all over the place! And if you stay overnight, unexpectedly, they give you a little bedroom to sleep in. Bedroom they haven't used in about eleven years. Someone died in it, eleven years ago. And they haven't moved any of his stuff! Right next to the bed there's usually a dresser or a bureau of some kind, and there's NO ROOM for your stuff on it. Somebody else's sh*t is on the dresser. Have you noticed that their stuff is sh*t and your sh*t is stuff? God! And you say, "Get that sh*t offa there and let me put my stuff down!"
• - today in my aimless wanderings, i spotted two tiles/trivets that looked like "my" franciscan apple dishes. i picked them up for $1 each & came home to look them up & found they are worth $40-50 each! i don't collect to invest, but still it felt nice to make this little score! today james came home w/a lovely necklace for me of purple-dyed fresh water pearls. i wear it now & am touched anew by his thoughtfulness. i am fortunate to receive such nice gifts & to have the time & resources to treasure hunt, but really, i am not in need of much more stuff... in fact,  it's kinda dumb how much i can love "stuff," like the little baby doll i purchased the other day in bakersfield... it's all ultimately effluvia, after all, some might say, mere  distractions from the tomb. as carlin implies, who needs any of it, truly? of course, there's the comfort element, as well as aesthetic, not to mention it's just fun to collect stuff... until it starts to drive you mad, confuse you, or you see the crew of "hoarders" walking up your front step & knocking at your door ... having written all that, i must contradict myself, as is my nature, anyways: if you find this, which i used to own, but lost in a box of pottery in a sad & distracted move four years ago, please contact me! on its back reads "los angeles potteries 650." yes, to sound like "the jerk," "this is all i need!"