hot and pretty

last night the building behind my loft burned down. i was lounging, drinking a belgian beer from a fancy glass and re-reading yet another book, due to sheer laziness on my part, not wanting to walk to the thrift store and buy a new one, when my apartment started to literally fill with smoke. i put on some slippers and went down to the street to find throngs on people crowding around a roped off area, watching flames as high as i've ever seen lick and tickle the vacant building behind mine. at one point the roof fell in, and a gigantic shower of sparks rained down around us. now, considering the place below mine sells wicker nicknacks, and the place beside mine stores wicker nicknacks, i became a little worried.

first thing, stupid me, i rushed back to my place and closed all the windows. too late, all of my my clothes already smelled like summer camp. then, after petting and attempting to comfort my cowering cat, i did all i could think of: went out and watched some more. as weird as i feel for saying this, fire is quite fascinating, some might even say beautiful, at such close proximity. but, after standing for just so long transfixed, the smoke dried up my contacts and in combo with the late hour, i began to feel sleepy. pondering the trustworthiness of my fire alarm, and noting that it went off pretty much everytime i toasted something, i decided between it and the fire escape, i would probably emerge alive if the things got out of control. and so i went, somewhat fitfully, to sleep.

this morning i woke up safe and sound and proud that it was my photo albums and my portfolio that i had put close to the fire escape, and not my pricey shoes and jeans. when it comes down to it, i guess i do know where it's at.

RANDOM FACT ABOUT ME: contrary to and falling so closely on the heels of my recent fact, not to mention a lifetime of dry-eyed film watching, i actually cried in a film for the first time 2 days ago. i think i need to examine my attitude to tears, but i don't know quite how to get into it, nor if this is the proper forum.

quote of the day:
A young woman forced to keep drunks supplied with beer and siblings with clean underwear-instead of being allowed to pursue "something higher"-stores up great reserves of vitality, a vitality never dreamed of by university students yawning over their books. ---From The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Milan Kundera