I Thought My Head Was Going to Explode

I actually left the house.

I think that's like the second time I left the house in a month. Maybe longer.

So Lee had to forgive me for being totally hypnotized by the Valentine's Day stuff in WALMART.

Every time I go through a long period inside, it's like the "immigrant experience" when I go out again. You know--remember when immigrants would come here from Eastern bloc nations and would have their brains overloaded by the profusion of merchandise in our stores. All the choices. All the colors. Even Gregor Voss was corrupted.

That's how I was with the Valentine's Day section at WALMART. It was gorgeous. A thousand shades of pink. I couldn't stop looking and touching.

They even had dollar items. I couldn't resist an awesome set of buttons (one was a ladybug, another a frog). Miniature pinbacks I mean. I think there are eight. I bought it for two of them.

I almost went for the lenticular stickers, which were gorge.

I felt robbed that the miniature Valentine's Day pinball machines (party favors) were sold out.

I love dollar stores. WALMART was copying their strategy.

Also Lee and I were both a little obsessed with the toys in the markdown aisle.

I could tell Lee wanted a few of the Pokemon figures (which were beautifully made) and we both admired the large plastic Yoshi. But those were marked down from like twenty bucks to fifteen so forget that.

There were a lot of new toys that fascinated me. Lee couldn't stop laughing at some of the Bratz type dolls (they weren't Bratz but were very funny caricatures of today's kids).

Does any kid in the world still do jigsaw puzzles? The little painting of the Rockefeller Christmas tree jigsaw was really cute. But it doesn't surprise me they are in the markdown aisle.

Worst game idea: some quiz game where you sit this pile of chips on top of your IPAD and then answer the questions and do something with the chips. This Luddite game totally missed the point of the technology. Kids don't like three-dimensional things anymore. Not even other kids. Unless they're filtered through technology.

What really forced me out of the house is I can't stand having that crazy cat lady smell in my sheets and Malkin is on that bed constantly.

It was just too much to wash in our own machine so I figured if I had to go out for that I might as well hit WALMART.

I feel guilty. Because I spent thirty bucks and Lee dropped seventy-five.

I hadn't planned to buy new sheets but I noticed Malkin had torn my fitted sheet so he gave me an excuse. I should thank him. And then the pillowcases looked suddenly hopeless to me. I did get the no-frills cheap package and almost the same color (didn't expect that luck at Wally World).Lee kept saying "You bought new sheets for your bed on the last trip to IKEA!" and I kept telling him I was sure I only bought stuff for him to sell on EBAY and they were only twin size. When we got home, he marched to the back room and showed me the sheets and shook his head. They were queen size and I had bought them for my bed. Someone in India just starved to death because of me. As if I needed one more thing to be guilty about. Oh, I'll donate the sheets to Goodwill (lie).

I am on a cleaning tear. I am going to go vacuum half the house.

It's a gorgeous day out. When we left in the morning there was thick fog everywhere as the kids were walking to school. The sun looked gorgeous through the fog. By the time we were coming home it had burnt off and I could see all the way to Blue Mountain, which has a little dingy grey snow on it.

We were joking about all the sell-out bandwagon jumpers wearing 49ers clothing and we passed one person at a bus stop. He was wearing the jacket. Pennsylvanian football fans are such whores. A few years ago before the Steelers turned on their machine EVERYONE here was an Eagles fan. It's all you saw in the stores. And then slowly but surely this was replaced by Steelers stuff. Total frauds. And now it's 49er's stuff. I mean you can still say you're Pennsylvanian and pull that Steelers shit, but 49ers? C'mon!

Dog tracks in the snow behind the house. Or else one big motherfuckin cat.

I love Sarah Brightman but hate the album Lee made me listen to in the car. It's one of her attempts to be a pure pop without the classical influence. I hate those albums by her. Just awful. And she's wonderful.

Lee hadn't checked the mail in days apparently. I mostly refuse to open the front door. But I snatched the mail and it was like a telephone book.

There was a wonderful little (and I mean miniature) poetry journal and a miniature chapbook that I will photograph or scan and put on here shortly and talk about.

And a request for work from the same editor. So I haz a happy.