My lists don't have a right order.

1. I keep accidentally singing songs I don't really know the words to. Or, I've got the words in my head, but I don't remember them, so that when I'm absent-minded about it it's fine, but when I notice what I'm doing, it falls apart.
a. What I really ought to do is figure out Lindy Lou on the accordian and play it on the street. Over and over again, just that song. There are hardly any words and I know them inside out. I could play during the awkward humming part, making it less awkward. Gosh, I love that song. Now I can't stop singing it, both in my head and out loud. I'll ruin it by liking it too much.
b. Actually, everytime I pick up the accordian, my fingers play a random Morrissey b-side. It's not even a song I think I like too much.

2. The elevator door opened and suddenly a swarm of very little kids were rushing towards me. First I froze and then they did, I because I was startled and they because they had been caught running indoors and making a ruckus. Then the littlest one smiled and said, "Hi!" so I smiled and said, "Hi!" back, and everything was great. That littlest one is already a better person than I am, but maybe I have time.

3. I have no appetite ever anymore, and have been taking vitamins for insurance. Vitamins on an empty stomach are bad news, so I pour tea on top of them, which I know should be making things worse, but somehow seems to help. Side effect - I am excited about everything, always, all day long, except when something sad happens (a passing bird drops its piece of bread, someone just misses the train, a cloud drifts by) and I practically burst into tears.

4. Foreign hip hop is always more interesting. And the fact that they could be saying anything, as far as I know, is probably my favorite part, though it's still pretty good in English, so long as there's a mysterious accent.

5. Outside of the post office there's a man who sells cut up mango (occasionally pineapple as well, but always mango), and he'll serve it to you with a variety of condiments (salt, what seems to be hot sauce, et cetera which I can't identify at all because I've never gotten close enough to the table to get a good look). He's sweet looking and wears a dignified hat, and last weekend when I walked by I noticed a woman set up next to him, selling a pretty good selection of sunglasses. I'm happy that he has someone to talk to.

6. I'm not at Coney Island. I've been getting into a habit of not being where I'm expected. I wonder if I'm still being looked for.
a. Actually, I really liked that, hearing that someone was looking for me. Looking, not calling, it felt old-timey and small town, I don't want that part to be over.

7. I just had the best idea in the world. For the moment, anyway.

8. I need more assurance from people than I care to admit. I need a tighter grip.

9. One night I let Danger have my camera, and every picture she took makes me think of awful things, but deleting them feels like the easy way out, so now the whole camera seems ruined. I'm blaming her for what isn't her fault, but knowing that doesn't stop me.
a. But just now I went and deleted some and saved some others, and now I can spend my time filling it with better things.

10. Man, Paula Poundstone. Finally

11. We would have been really great friends, and now I wish I had just left it there, because I can't see how to get back to that without feeling foolish. For the first time in a long time, it seemed like a truly good idea. There was the chance, when he disappeared and then reappeared, it could have been a reset of the whole thing. Could have.

12. Francis has this way of shifting his feet around just before he falls asleep, and lately I find myself doing it, and it sort of makes everything better for a while.

13. Thursday night, around nine o'clock, there was a long string of firecracker explosions somewhere down the block, just far enough that I couldn't see from my window, close enough that I could hear kids shouting and laughing at them. It just went on and on, for longer than seemed possible. I never wanted it to stop.

14. I don't know that I've ever been this uncertain, first Jackpot, then K., and then, and then, and then... I spend too much time on the kitchen table, listening to the imaginary rain and thinking about everything at the same time. I need to turn on more lights.
a. As it happens, it isn't lighthouse keeper, really, but light keeper. Lightkeeper.

15. I drew a different organ today. They're all good, I think.

16. I told Sam I'd probably go to Ruins with him tonight (I like that, "go to Ruins," it sounds like we'll crumble and be overgrown with weeds), but maybe not. He's been making maddening assumptions, and tonight he might go too far. I'm a little tired of people going too far.
a. He said there'd likely be crooning. Actually, "croooooooooooooning." How will I resist that?

17. Swans, not ducks. Swans! Pretty and vicious. We'll go home with scars. Rumpled wedding clothes and swan scars.

18. The weather cannot decide today. It's like the sky keeps changing its shirt. I need to get a dome umbrella that I can walk around in, pretending I can't see or hear anyone.

19. There's a thing I have to do, and once I do it everything will be better. Maybe if I leave this alone there will be enough time. Or at least enough words. That night by the fountain I talked to Mary about it, and put a deadline on it. It's getting nearer. Or I am.