Went to the library again. Got Gravity’s Rain­bow by Thomas Pyn­chon; The Com­plete poems of Carl Sand­burg; and a selec­tion of short sto­ries by Philip K. Dick.

As I was check­ing out, I was checked out by the librar­i­an.

She hit on me last time I was there as well. I was wear­ing me Hea­then T-shirt, and she said some­thing about lik­ing it, but not hav­ing lis­tened to the album. David Bowie’s lat­est has been out for a year by this point.

She com­pli­ment­ed my shirt [plain black polo] this time as well and then com­pli­ment­ed my book choic­es. Its pret­ty creepy get­ting hit on by a librar­i­an, espe­cial­ly one that is at least ten years my senior.

There is a cute librar­i­an there, about my age, who is quite help­ful, but I’m a bit scared off by the old one with the glint in her eye. There was also a cute girl in church today. I won­der if I’ve just got cute girls on the brain. I expect ’tis so.

Cool Pyn­chon phras­es so far:

wast­ed gods urg­ing on a tardy glac­i­er

the usu­al loud-mouthed Amer­i­can ass-ban­dit­ry