Monday, October 6, 2014

Monday, Monday in St. Paul

If you have some deep-seated latent objection to the state of Minnesota, the city of St. Paul, or aimless rambling about nothing, you are in the wrong place this week.  Consider yourself warned.


Monday was spent in this charming practice of mine where I have a destination but quickly become hopelessly lost, briskly walking along city streets not because I know were I am going, but merely because I am a fast walker.  All this ever does is get me lost in a hurry.  You'd think I would learn.  You might further surmise that I would stop and eat when I felt hungry, especially in a situation like this, where a brief respite with a sandwich and a map could possible solve the entire dilemma.  You would be wrong.  Why be smart and sated when I can be starving and irrational?  

For some completely addled reason I would instead plunge blindly ahead, blood sugar plummeting, sure that the bookstore is right around this corner- no?  Well, how about this one?  And so one for two hours where I accidentally got to know the streets of downtown St. Paul rather well, all without actually finding a bookstore or stopping for food.  I don't know what is wrong with me.  

Before my tumble down the rabbit hole I did enjoy a run along the Mississippi, where above the water I beheld the beginnings of the yearly chlorophyll exodus, turning the leaves such pretty warm colors, while my mind's eye constructed a rather more gruesome scene for what surely lurks beneath the surface of the water.  This is why I'm wary of large, naturally-occurring bodies of water.  I mean, I'll still swim in them, occasionally, but it's with the understanding that I'm cavorting in a brine of waste and death.  

Okay, so I seriously did enjoy our trip.  I'm not sure what just happened to this post.  I swear, Tuesday of St. Paul is cheerier:  Cathedrals!  Bookstores!  Sassy signs!  A decided lack of the decomposing stew that the yeomen refer to as "lakes"!


I miss you and your disturbing secrets, Mississippi river.










Note:  Two things about this post are driving me crazy; I'm going to share them with you for absolutely no good reason.  1)  It's not really a chlorophyll exodus, is it?  I mean, it's not like the existing chlorophyll in the leaves is departing, much less for a photosynthetic Promised Land.  And 2)  I referred to the fact that I've swam in lakes and rivers that I think of as a brine of waste and death, when, in fact, most of these were fresh water entities, and a brine is a salt water solution.  I considered going back and changing both of those erroneous terms, but I really just didn't feel like it.  Writing this completely extraneous paragraph is obviously a much better use of my time.  

1 comment:

  1. Oh, I was thinking of all the dead bodies that are sitting on the bottom of the river, weighed down with cement blocks. What, St. Paul isn't a mecca of mob crime? Good thing I guess, since you were wandering around, starving, for hours! Think of the trouble you could have been in.

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