conversations about lactation, coupons and little lives

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There’s not a whole heck of a lot going on in kimville these days. Nothing new to report in the life-of-kim, no interesting tidbits to ponder.

Truthfully, I have nothing to write. I’m not even sure why I started this entry. I wanted to do some post-therapy writing/processing tonight, so I came to Zoka (the only coffee shop I know of that’s open late). But there’s way too many people here. I don’t know where they all came from. It’s a nice summer night. Why aren’t they outside, doing stuff?

There’s a knitting group sitting next to me. Knitting and chatting. The topic of the moment: the human body. I don’t think knitters really engage in conversation. Seems to me it’s more a string of random one-liners. Very Henry Youngman, but not funny. Little things about little lives.

So anyway…

My coffee grinder broke, so I haven’t been able to try the Stumptown coffee Anthony brought all the way back from Portland for me. There’s that.

And then there’s the fact that I might actually get to start up a creative writing group on campus this fall. I’ve been given the go-ahead by those in charge and the possiblity of starting up a club was even brought up. Imagine that: me, a club advisor. Wacky.

I cleaned my kitchen the other day. It no longer stinks. That’s a good thing, right?

Alright, enough of this. I’m going to have to poke some knitters in the eyes with their little knitting stick things if they don’t stop their yacking. I suppose I’ll have to get the knitting stick things away from them first. That might be difficult; looks like they’re all tangled in yarn.

And now they’re talking about nursing. God how I hate conversations about lactation. Honestly, the whole notion of lactation bugs me. And I’m not just talking about human lactation. It bothers me to know that milk comes from cows. And then we drink it. But that women lactate and then talk about it, well that’s about enough to push me over the edge.

And here I sit writing about it all. Who has the little life?

Yeah, that’s what I thought.


Author: Kim Sharp

more later

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