lots of ibrueprophen and fettucinni alfredo with artichoke hearts made the migraine go away. hurray. hurray. now i can look forward to a late night of painting.
at the moment i'm listening to the velvet underground and drinking strong, black coffee. remembering long afternoons spent at mildred's--a cafe in madison that i frequented because i liked their sandwhiches and coffee served in old-school greasy diner white cups. i could have sat there drinking, eating, writing--forever. the velvet underground playing--forever. i would walk the 7 blocks home afterwards in the cold, along the way stopping at the liquor store for wine or sake. at midnight i'd take my old black dog japhy with me down to skate at the park, on the pond, in the dark. japhy--named after japhy rider in dharma bums by jack kerouac. i miss japhy and cold walks and dark nights and mildred's, sake, and white coffee cups.
it makes me sad to think: life here in bemidji is boring. or is it me?
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