Muslin Bunnies. A Kitchen Table, St. Paul

You're like me, and you're like me. You have bookshelves full of books. You can never have enough bookshelves because you have more books than you know what to do with. But my sister-in-law bought this house in Lake Geneva, with built-in bookshelves, and she didn't put one book in them. All she had in them was muslin bunnies.

College Girls. Coffee News Cafe, St. Paul

1: Even if she doesn't know anything about it, she wants to have a conversation about it.

2: People who are more educated tend to want to listen more.

1: It's just such a burdening process. I'm the only person with intellect she knows, I'm the only one pushing her in the other direction. Everyone else supports what she says. It's just so good to see what's on the other side of the tracks. You learn to defend yourself, articulate your position. We went out for a drink one night and I was, like, ready to leave. They were just talking about Mexicans and how they take our jobs. I said, these are people from Central and South America, poor countries, and they come here for a better life. There was a time when America offered a better life, and Europeans came here. And I guarantee you, if Canada had a better life you'd be running for the border. And she's like, I guess you're right. And I'm like, whew, watch your mouth.

2: It's so hard for them, too. Like, they cross rivers, or stay in the back of a car for four days to get here.

1: Last week I ended up waiting at someone's house for a pregnant woman who never showed up. So then this other woman who was there started asking me questions, about what I do, about my travels in Mexico, the people I stayed with. She asked, "What do they eat over there? Did you cook them American food?" And I said, "What do you consider American food?" She said, "I don't know. Cornbread." Then we started talking about Rita, and how sad it is for these people, and how the government is letting them down. And that was really interesting. She said, "I don't know what you believe in, but the bible says you get back what you give." She was talking about karma. I don't know. You know when you're having a conversation with someone, but you're also having a sub-conversation in your head? I censor myself, because there's just so much going on up there. But it was great. I was getting paid to help this pregnant woman, but instead I'm having this interesting conversation with this other person.

Lamenting and Knitting. Nina's Coffee Cafe, St. Paul

Lamenting
I've got maybe two friends--yeah, two--that I talk to. One of them, we were lovers for a while. The second is just a friend. We talk about what's going on rather than, you know. When I see him, it's always about what you've been doing, not who you've been doing.

Knitting
1: I thought this was a knitting circle.

2: We haven't begun yet. We were talking about you. Was I rude to you on the phone?

1: You weren't rude on the phone. Do you know how often I use that tone? I've learned not to answer the phone. Especially in the middle of a diaper change ... This is the yarn I got at Target for a dollar a skein. Don't tell anyone. A dollar a skein.

3: Target has yarn?

1: In their dollar bin.

2: Where's their dollar bin?

1: Right by the door, to the right. When was the last time you were at Target?

2: 15 minutes ago. I know my Targets. That's why I'm looking at you like you're crazy. Which Target are we talking about here?

1: Midway. Right on University, near Snelling, or Hamline. Right on University.

First Date. Axel's Bonfire, St. Paul

I was like seven. I wrote all the lyrics. And my oldest brother wrote a little part of it. It was like, [singing] "I have eyes like a ray, I never lay." Which is funny, because we meant lay down. I swear to God, don't make fun of me. "And when the zombies come, everyone runs." And my brother's keyboard part was like, [singing] neer, neer, neer, neer.

Tasmanian Devil, that's a fuckin' redneck thing. That just blows my mind. Tasmanian Devil and white trash. That just blows my mind. They're like, I'm so crazy, I could kick your ass. You think they even watch the show? On Saturday mornings, you think they watch? I don't think they do. They're just like, "Taz, he's fuckin' crazy."

You've never seen Desperate Housewives? At the beginning, it's like, the Garden of Eden, the apple?

What's your favorite drink? Beer?
I want a martini.

Habachi Shrimp. Black Dog Cafe, St. Paul

1: My grandfather's nearly blind. We drove him up here. During his midlife crisis, he was in some hotel room in Maryland, everything was carpet. Walls, ceiling, everything. He thought it was the coolest thing ever. So he started collecting carpet for his attic, and did it up. This was during the sexual revolution, Playboy was very big and kitschy.

2: This place still exists?

1: Yes. And now they're trying to sell the house with the carpet in the attic intact. Everyone wants to get rid of it. I want to get rid of it. But the problem is he used this really weird glue and it's impossible to take off. And there are weird signs all over, like "George Washington never lied in bed," with a picture of George Washington's butt over a bed. And of course, everything's black-lit. It goes on and on and on.

2: Oh my god.

1: So I realized that this is not a normal thing to have in your grandparent's attic. And that's where all the kids' toys were.

2: [Laughter]

1: So he lost a leg this year. His life is about consumption. He can't see, he can't really walk. But he can taste. So yesterday we were at a family party. It's a very big deal for him to come up here. He's from the Chicago area. He refused to eat anything. And we asked, "What do you want, Grandpa?" And he said, "Habachi shrimp." He knew exactly what he wanted.