But with nothing to say. Just tired of moving. And waiting for the cable guy.
And if any of you know about the following- please help:
RASing into the network at work. Won't bloody connect. Pisses me off.
Otherwise, just ignore that.
It's all good. Come to find out that we have a view after all. Of the Cascades. Not exactly the Seattle skyline, and the port. But not exactly crap, either.
Went through my entire closet and finally gave up on the size 8 crap. Ain't a gonna happen. And if by some miracle of fate it does, I'll buy another damned wardrobe. Not that I'm that much bigger, but enough. Kboy says it's all due to age, and I should just accept it. He likes me just the way I am. Awwwww...there's a fucking Bridget Jones moment if I ever heard one. But I appreciate his sentiment. Good to know he's a boy with some depth.
Enough about that.
Seriously. If you know about RASing into the network, let me know. This is bloody frustrating. And I'm the alleged techie of the department...sigh...
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Testing my resolve
I have this thing. I want to write every day. But...it has been a busy week. And we're moving. Deep in the thick of it.
No internet at the new place yet. Heads up- things might be spotty post-wise for a few days. But I can check on friends from other places with internet. Not work- oh no! Never work. Don't even suggest such a thing.
Other than that, not much else to say. Just letting those of you who visit regularly know what's doing.
No internet at the new place yet. Heads up- things might be spotty post-wise for a few days. But I can check on friends from other places with internet. Not work- oh no! Never work. Don't even suggest such a thing.
Other than that, not much else to say. Just letting those of you who visit regularly know what's doing.
Monday, January 22, 2007
Scariest news of the day
My mom sent me this article.
Back story- this is the guy who tried (and failed) to molest me when I was 5. As if confirmation was needed that he is a predatory criminal:
Hilger, 53, also will be on supervision for the rest of his life, according to information from the United States Attorney’s office. He was sentenced in Helena by Senior U.S. District Judge Charles C. Lovell.
The case was part of the nationwide Project Safe Childhood, created in February 2006 by Attorney General Alberto R. Gonzales to protect children from online exploitation and abuse.
Led by the United States Attorneys’ Offices, the project pulls together federal, state and local resources to locate, apprehend, and prosecute individuals who exploit children via the Internet, as well as to identify and rescue victims.
Hilger came to the federal government’s attention in 2002, when the FBI served a search warrant on a web hosting company in California. Agents seized the company’s database, which contained more than 20,000 names of suspected purchasers of child pornography who had used credit cards to buy the material. Hilger’s name was among those on the list.
Based upon this information, the FBI began an investigation of Hilger. On Aug. 25, 2005, FBI agents interviewed Hilger at his Helena home. Hilger admitted that he had tried to purchase access to a child pornography Web site in approximately 2002 but was denied access.
Hilger agreed to allow the agents to do a pre-search of his computers, and they found numerous images of child pornography. His computers were seized and Hilger admitted that all three of the computers contained child pornography that he had searched for, found, and saved via the Internet.
A forensic analysis of Hilger’s computer revealed numerous image files and movies containing images of children engaged in sexually explicit conduct.
Back story- this is the guy who tried (and failed) to molest me when I was 5. As if confirmation was needed that he is a predatory criminal:
Helena man sentenced in child porn case
By IR Staff - 01/13/07
Jeffrey Hilger of Helena was sentenced to five years in prison Thursday for receiving and possession of child pornography.Hilger, 53, also will be on supervision for the rest of his life, according to information from the United States Attorney’s office. He was sentenced in Helena by Senior U.S. District Judge Charles C. Lovell.
The case was part of the nationwide Project Safe Childhood, created in February 2006 by Attorney General Alberto R. Gonzales to protect children from online exploitation and abuse.
Led by the United States Attorneys’ Offices, the project pulls together federal, state and local resources to locate, apprehend, and prosecute individuals who exploit children via the Internet, as well as to identify and rescue victims.
Hilger came to the federal government’s attention in 2002, when the FBI served a search warrant on a web hosting company in California. Agents seized the company’s database, which contained more than 20,000 names of suspected purchasers of child pornography who had used credit cards to buy the material. Hilger’s name was among those on the list.
Based upon this information, the FBI began an investigation of Hilger. On Aug. 25, 2005, FBI agents interviewed Hilger at his Helena home. Hilger admitted that he had tried to purchase access to a child pornography Web site in approximately 2002 but was denied access.
Hilger agreed to allow the agents to do a pre-search of his computers, and they found numerous images of child pornography. His computers were seized and Hilger admitted that all three of the computers contained child pornography that he had searched for, found, and saved via the Internet.
A forensic analysis of Hilger’s computer revealed numerous image files and movies containing images of children engaged in sexually explicit conduct.
No time to write more
Despite my promise earlier- been to busy. What with Kboy's birthday and moving, etc.
Try to do it later. That's the promise du jour. That I get to break with impunity if I need to!
And LX- fixed the blasted link to your page. I hate code. That's all.
Try to do it later. That's the promise du jour. That I get to break with impunity if I need to!
And LX- fixed the blasted link to your page. I hate code. That's all.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
The snow is melting
And last night we saw David Lynch. At a reading for his new book. It was a birthday present for Kboy. Because they share a birthday, doncha know. Also with Fellini- even though Fellini doesn't have birthdays anymore. Because he's DEAD.
The crowd was a tad skeevy. Some really disturbing individuals showed up, along with the requesite Seattle hipsters, and some just oddly normal looking folks.
Lynch himself looked kind of shrimpy. But not once he started to talk- with his hands fluttering around like birds in flight. Sounds silly, but was much more lyrical when combined with what he was saying and his geezer-gravel voice (reminded me of men from home). He was kind to all. And I felt like given what he had been saying, he is a pretty well-adjusted kind of guy.
The main gist of the whole thing was a Q & A about his career and about Transcendental Meditation- which was the main topic of the book. Overall, he tied it all together well, without sounding like a wing nut- it's always kind of cringeworthy to listen to people discuss their spiritual beliefs if they don't strike the perfect tone. This was more tied to creativity, which made it less...difficult to access. Personal process is one thing, it's another entirely to prosletize.
The final question of the night came from a boy in a trench coat. Both of us (without speaking about it) were prepared to take him down- he had that distinct possible shotgun in the lining vibe. He really, really NEEDED to ask Lynch about happiness/sadness and TM. He cut in line. The others let him. When he turned around, he was probably 20 years old and looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. Just agony. Lynch gave him one of the most compassionate and completely rational answers possible, and hopefully shot the poor kid a lifeline. And no Chapman episode occurred.
The first question of the night came from a girl who looked 12. But we found out later that she is 19. Just creepy in that non-socialized home-schooly way that some people who need a little more contact with the world are. She was there with her skeevy little dad. All in beige (him), she was dressed like a circa 1989 piano teacher at a recital. She was tiny. She had a present for Lynch. We didn't stay to watch her give it to him.
Got the book signed. And drum roll- got the answer to an urban Missoula legend.
NO- David Lynch did not ever live in the Wilma building.
There.
Happy Birthday.
The crowd was a tad skeevy. Some really disturbing individuals showed up, along with the requesite Seattle hipsters, and some just oddly normal looking folks.
Lynch himself looked kind of shrimpy. But not once he started to talk- with his hands fluttering around like birds in flight. Sounds silly, but was much more lyrical when combined with what he was saying and his geezer-gravel voice (reminded me of men from home). He was kind to all. And I felt like given what he had been saying, he is a pretty well-adjusted kind of guy.
The main gist of the whole thing was a Q & A about his career and about Transcendental Meditation- which was the main topic of the book. Overall, he tied it all together well, without sounding like a wing nut- it's always kind of cringeworthy to listen to people discuss their spiritual beliefs if they don't strike the perfect tone. This was more tied to creativity, which made it less...difficult to access. Personal process is one thing, it's another entirely to prosletize.
The final question of the night came from a boy in a trench coat. Both of us (without speaking about it) were prepared to take him down- he had that distinct possible shotgun in the lining vibe. He really, really NEEDED to ask Lynch about happiness/sadness and TM. He cut in line. The others let him. When he turned around, he was probably 20 years old and looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. Just agony. Lynch gave him one of the most compassionate and completely rational answers possible, and hopefully shot the poor kid a lifeline. And no Chapman episode occurred.
The first question of the night came from a girl who looked 12. But we found out later that she is 19. Just creepy in that non-socialized home-schooly way that some people who need a little more contact with the world are. She was there with her skeevy little dad. All in beige (him), she was dressed like a circa 1989 piano teacher at a recital. She was tiny. She had a present for Lynch. We didn't stay to watch her give it to him.
Got the book signed. And drum roll- got the answer to an urban Missoula legend.
NO- David Lynch did not ever live in the Wilma building.
There.
Happy Birthday.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Mama says
that a strong shot of sumpin sumpin will make you sleep better if you feel nasty.
Mama is right.
Now for those of you who just check in for the actual news items, not for the interior dialogue- here's the news flash.
There is snow. Lots and lots more snow. So...good thing I went to the store last night and stocked up on microwavable dinners. Because God loves the Hungry Man meals. And all the world loves Marie Callendar. Because she cooks everything with love and about 500 calories of fat. Screw Amy- she's the anemic, judgemental little Vegan bitch sister. Who is always harassing Marie about her love handles and cholesterol reading. Who is feeling the joy, though? Betcha it's not Amy. Who has perpetually dry skin. Needs some fat to grease things up.
I lied. Said I would keep to the news. See, even my good intentions are for naught. Because I just gotta spin.
We are looking with askance at the weather and wondering if it is safe to leave the house. We are wondering if we need to take one car and commute together part of the way. We are wondering if we'll get home tonight if we do leave. We are wondering many things.
But the good news of the morning- the Shakespeare Stout (pint of sheer joy in a bottle, I tells ye) did the trick. Because Mama said. And sleep, I did. The sleep of the just. Which could be theft, because no doubt I am not just and stole that from a more deserving soul. But fuck em. I needed it more.
Mama is right.
Now for those of you who just check in for the actual news items, not for the interior dialogue- here's the news flash.
There is snow. Lots and lots more snow. So...good thing I went to the store last night and stocked up on microwavable dinners. Because God loves the Hungry Man meals. And all the world loves Marie Callendar. Because she cooks everything with love and about 500 calories of fat. Screw Amy- she's the anemic, judgemental little Vegan bitch sister. Who is always harassing Marie about her love handles and cholesterol reading. Who is feeling the joy, though? Betcha it's not Amy. Who has perpetually dry skin. Needs some fat to grease things up.
I lied. Said I would keep to the news. See, even my good intentions are for naught. Because I just gotta spin.
We are looking with askance at the weather and wondering if it is safe to leave the house. We are wondering if we need to take one car and commute together part of the way. We are wondering if we'll get home tonight if we do leave. We are wondering many things.
But the good news of the morning- the Shakespeare Stout (pint of sheer joy in a bottle, I tells ye) did the trick. Because Mama said. And sleep, I did. The sleep of the just. Which could be theft, because no doubt I am not just and stole that from a more deserving soul. But fuck em. I needed it more.
Monday, January 15, 2007
2:27
I am showing jewelry in the dimly lit store to Grandma and another old lady. She is fascinated by a jewel encrusted ruby cameo (like such a thing exists), and puts it in her pocket. I am playing with a frosted ruby articulated raspberry. It fits on the end of my finger. It reminds me of ...something.
I look for a light switch- the light should be brazen and loud in a jewelry store. It must sparkle.
I ask the lady to the left of Grandma to get the cameo out of her pocket for me. "Give me the pretty lady." I put it back in the case and slide the door shut. I am waiting for my mom to come and don't know where she is.
Then I look at Grandma. Her eyes get funny. I hear the crescendo from A Day in the Life (the original version)- cue the orchestra- DUM...dum.....buzzz... And see her slump against the glass. Her face is pressed into the side of the case. She has had a stroke. It's very bad. I panic.
I run towards the back of the store, and see mom on the phone. She waves me away with a casual irritation that enrages me. I tell her Grandma had a stroke. She says, "finally." Sighs and hangs up the phone.
It's 2:27.
I look for a light switch- the light should be brazen and loud in a jewelry store. It must sparkle.
I ask the lady to the left of Grandma to get the cameo out of her pocket for me. "Give me the pretty lady." I put it back in the case and slide the door shut. I am waiting for my mom to come and don't know where she is.
Then I look at Grandma. Her eyes get funny. I hear the crescendo from A Day in the Life (the original version)- cue the orchestra- DUM...dum.....buzzz... And see her slump against the glass. Her face is pressed into the side of the case. She has had a stroke. It's very bad. I panic.
I run towards the back of the store, and see mom on the phone. She waves me away with a casual irritation that enrages me. I tell her Grandma had a stroke. She says, "finally." Sighs and hangs up the phone.
It's 2:27.
Saturday, January 13, 2007
The haunting
Now I've finally figured it out.
I had a conversation with a friend a couple of weeks ago when I told her that I carry my ghosts around with me. That's where they live. The only place, really. Because I have a huge investment in keeping them alive in there.
Then I figured it out. It's not the individuals who are the ghosts. It's the collective whole. The entirety of the first 6 years of my life. Drum roll...the ghost is of an unbelievably happy early childhood. Golden sunlight drenches the whole damned thing. And it is damned. Because it ended. And therein is the poison that has leeched strength, surety and pretty much most of the satisfaction from a job well done that I could glean for years. It is absolutely impossible to live up to that time. It is impossible to re-create the feeling of being beloved on that scale, safe in that way, and not exposed to the darkness.
So intervening years whittled away at plenty of the good-will of the universe. And I stubbornly held onto the remnants- be they the paper dolls that my Grandma bought me when I was 5, to the memory of the plants that grew in my back yard. All of it is in there- suspended in amber. Just waiting to be re-created. But that's impossible, right? Because I'm not suspended in amber with the memories and relics. I have been touched by the darkness that came later. I have been altered irrevocably. And really, that's not a bad thing. It's not the point- to accuse and assign blame. There were very good things about coming in contact with the base elements of human nature. Knowledge is a double-edged sword, no? And yes, it plummeted me out of my own personal little garden of Eden, and into the real world- with very few tools to cope.
But over time, these developed. And in my blackest moments, I can scream and rail inside about how much potential I lost and how much momentum I lost by having to claw myself out of the darkness. That if I hadn't had to suffer all of that I could've been something. But that is empty. Because the reality is that it's totally irrelevant. Theoretical success. Entitlement uber alles. Irrelevant.
It's what I can do now that counts. With the ghosts named, filed away, and in reserve- because those amber memories have a curious strength. It means something to know that I was loved that much. That I was so very safe. That I was so very secure. It is a good starting point. Now that the bitterness has bled away- drop by acid drop. Opening the vein wasn't fun. Painful as hell. But here I am. Feeling clean inside. Ready to go in the back yard in my mind and smell the lilacs. Because in that place, they are always in bloom.
I had a conversation with a friend a couple of weeks ago when I told her that I carry my ghosts around with me. That's where they live. The only place, really. Because I have a huge investment in keeping them alive in there.
Then I figured it out. It's not the individuals who are the ghosts. It's the collective whole. The entirety of the first 6 years of my life. Drum roll...the ghost is of an unbelievably happy early childhood. Golden sunlight drenches the whole damned thing. And it is damned. Because it ended. And therein is the poison that has leeched strength, surety and pretty much most of the satisfaction from a job well done that I could glean for years. It is absolutely impossible to live up to that time. It is impossible to re-create the feeling of being beloved on that scale, safe in that way, and not exposed to the darkness.
So intervening years whittled away at plenty of the good-will of the universe. And I stubbornly held onto the remnants- be they the paper dolls that my Grandma bought me when I was 5, to the memory of the plants that grew in my back yard. All of it is in there- suspended in amber. Just waiting to be re-created. But that's impossible, right? Because I'm not suspended in amber with the memories and relics. I have been touched by the darkness that came later. I have been altered irrevocably. And really, that's not a bad thing. It's not the point- to accuse and assign blame. There were very good things about coming in contact with the base elements of human nature. Knowledge is a double-edged sword, no? And yes, it plummeted me out of my own personal little garden of Eden, and into the real world- with very few tools to cope.
But over time, these developed. And in my blackest moments, I can scream and rail inside about how much potential I lost and how much momentum I lost by having to claw myself out of the darkness. That if I hadn't had to suffer all of that I could've been something. But that is empty. Because the reality is that it's totally irrelevant. Theoretical success. Entitlement uber alles. Irrelevant.
It's what I can do now that counts. With the ghosts named, filed away, and in reserve- because those amber memories have a curious strength. It means something to know that I was loved that much. That I was so very safe. That I was so very secure. It is a good starting point. Now that the bitterness has bled away- drop by acid drop. Opening the vein wasn't fun. Painful as hell. But here I am. Feeling clean inside. Ready to go in the back yard in my mind and smell the lilacs. Because in that place, they are always in bloom.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Now that the snow and ice have settled
I am home on another ice/snow day. The hill next to our house is solidly ice. So I don't think I'll be working. Good news- I put in monster overtime hours earlier this week, so won't get hit financially.
I really can't think of any bad news. None really. Still in jammies. Just finished the coffee. Leisurely perusal of all of my favorite websites. I have to recommend Stuff on my Cat today- particularly delicious.
I'm going to hit the Tivo and start watching movies next. If Kboy doesn't drive me batshit with his nervous energy. I think I'll send him on a hike down the hill. To evaluate the ice. I'll make sure he puts on his snow suit, mittens and hat first.
Remember those? I hated my snow suit. I hated my mittens. And I still hate my hat. I preferred icy hands- because I could do stuff with the fingers. Mittens felt like being crippled. And the snow suit made me look silly, I thought. I was all about the glamour at the age of 7. Sure got over that quickly. Dumb ass kid that I was.
We went to the store last night before the road froze. And saw lots of little kids in their snow suits. On adventures with their parents. They looked excited. I realized that they are probably having the winter of their lives. So many snow days! It was overkill, though. Because it didn't get motherass cold until this morning. And even then, cold is a relative term. I will justify my wimpiness by saying that we are getting a very chilly wind off of the water at our house. And it IS actually cold as hell.
I really can't think of any bad news. None really. Still in jammies. Just finished the coffee. Leisurely perusal of all of my favorite websites. I have to recommend Stuff on my Cat today- particularly delicious.
I'm going to hit the Tivo and start watching movies next. If Kboy doesn't drive me batshit with his nervous energy. I think I'll send him on a hike down the hill. To evaluate the ice. I'll make sure he puts on his snow suit, mittens and hat first.
Remember those? I hated my snow suit. I hated my mittens. And I still hate my hat. I preferred icy hands- because I could do stuff with the fingers. Mittens felt like being crippled. And the snow suit made me look silly, I thought. I was all about the glamour at the age of 7. Sure got over that quickly. Dumb ass kid that I was.
We went to the store last night before the road froze. And saw lots of little kids in their snow suits. On adventures with their parents. They looked excited. I realized that they are probably having the winter of their lives. So many snow days! It was overkill, though. Because it didn't get motherass cold until this morning. And even then, cold is a relative term. I will justify my wimpiness by saying that we are getting a very chilly wind off of the water at our house. And it IS actually cold as hell.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Yeah- enough with this crap
Just got home from a 5 hour commute. 17 miles. It sucked ass.
I got to experience all of the CDs in my changer.
It was time-wise comperable to crossing Washington State.
We are so going to move soon.
Fuck this shit.
Even though the Beastie Boys were involved.
Didn't make it that much better.
I'm gonna go drink a smokey porter and forget my troubles.
I got to experience all of the CDs in my changer.
It was time-wise comperable to crossing Washington State.
We are so going to move soon.
Fuck this shit.
Even though the Beastie Boys were involved.
Didn't make it that much better.
I'm gonna go drink a smokey porter and forget my troubles.
Monday, January 08, 2007
Monday
Despite the coffee I just can't shake it.
Sleep and perchance dreaming.
Not that it was an untroubled night.
Too much caffiene, cats on the bed and snores from next to me took care of that.
But after it all settled down, all should've been well.
But not really.
Because at night the devils come out to play.
The banshees shriek.
The demons chase eachother around the landscape of my head.
Like some kind of populated Pinkham Ryder painting.
There was one in the ASU art museum.
I would stare at it for what seemed to be hours at a time.
Losing myself in the texture and the depth of the color.
Thinking that if I could just reach in far enough, the Arizona sun couldn't reach me.
And that I could then sink into the green darkness and rest a while.
Sleep and perchance dreaming.
Not that it was an untroubled night.
Too much caffiene, cats on the bed and snores from next to me took care of that.
But after it all settled down, all should've been well.
But not really.
Because at night the devils come out to play.
The banshees shriek.
The demons chase eachother around the landscape of my head.
Like some kind of populated Pinkham Ryder painting.
There was one in the ASU art museum.
I would stare at it for what seemed to be hours at a time.
Losing myself in the texture and the depth of the color.
Thinking that if I could just reach in far enough, the Arizona sun couldn't reach me.
And that I could then sink into the green darkness and rest a while.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Basic life update
We are planning the big move to the East Side. Which causes much dismay around our house, but there isn't much of a choice.
It would buy back at least 10 hours of my life per week. It would save over $100/week on gas. It would lessen the chances of my early death or dismemberment at the hands of some idiot motorist lacking their morning coffee.
We looked at a house yesterday, and are waiting to hear if we got it. It's ...ok...nothing special. This place was special. Mainly for the view and location. But since I've been working, those things aren't as important- not here to enjoy them like I was before.
Good things- this new place will be closer to work, Uwajimaya (Japanese market that I like), and lakes.
Bad things- Bellevue is a tad plastic. Bellevue has lots of very rich people who form a little red dot in a blue state. It isn't Seattle.
But the landlady is back from her deployment, and waiting to have her home back. So there isn't any choice. And this hill is probably going to slide down to the sound any day now- as the ground is like a sodden sponge from all of the rain.
So there's where we are at. Waiting. But knowing. And regretting all of those boxes of books.
It would buy back at least 10 hours of my life per week. It would save over $100/week on gas. It would lessen the chances of my early death or dismemberment at the hands of some idiot motorist lacking their morning coffee.
We looked at a house yesterday, and are waiting to hear if we got it. It's ...ok...nothing special. This place was special. Mainly for the view and location. But since I've been working, those things aren't as important- not here to enjoy them like I was before.
Good things- this new place will be closer to work, Uwajimaya (Japanese market that I like), and lakes.
Bad things- Bellevue is a tad plastic. Bellevue has lots of very rich people who form a little red dot in a blue state. It isn't Seattle.
But the landlady is back from her deployment, and waiting to have her home back. So there isn't any choice. And this hill is probably going to slide down to the sound any day now- as the ground is like a sodden sponge from all of the rain.
So there's where we are at. Waiting. But knowing. And regretting all of those boxes of books.
Saturday, January 06, 2007
A trip to REI
I am looking for a sweater. A specific one. That I saw elsewhere, but not the right size.
So we went to REI.
Desultory wandering around the store.
Packed with feverish-looking people.
All demanding the outdoors lifestyle.
It made me feel sick and headachy.
Because I don't want a lifestyle.
I want a life.
And besides, REI used to be cheap and cool.
Key operating word here= used.
So we went to REI.
Desultory wandering around the store.
Packed with feverish-looking people.
All demanding the outdoors lifestyle.
It made me feel sick and headachy.
Because I don't want a lifestyle.
I want a life.
And besides, REI used to be cheap and cool.
Key operating word here= used.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Let's get this straight- once and for all
I am not going to be a mommy. That train has left the station. That boat has floated.
Not interested.
No, I don't hate children.
Yes, I have fully intact mommy instincts. That's what the kitties are for.
I do not now, nor do I ever want to be a mommy.
I am stopping the whole thing with me.
I have no desire to propigate for family, money, country or genetics.
I have no desire to cause another human being to endure my personality.
Especially a helpless little one.
I have inflicted enough damage on others in my life.
That's over now. The helpless ones, at least.
The rest of you...you were warned.
Be prepared. Wear your seatbelts. And if you have a helmet, wear it too!
Twisted road ahead.
Because some sins aren't forgivable. And I keep an updated catalog in my head of mine.
Not interested.
No, I don't hate children.
Yes, I have fully intact mommy instincts. That's what the kitties are for.
I do not now, nor do I ever want to be a mommy.
I am stopping the whole thing with me.
I have no desire to propigate for family, money, country or genetics.
I have no desire to cause another human being to endure my personality.
Especially a helpless little one.
I have inflicted enough damage on others in my life.
That's over now. The helpless ones, at least.
The rest of you...you were warned.
Be prepared. Wear your seatbelts. And if you have a helmet, wear it too!
Twisted road ahead.
Because some sins aren't forgivable. And I keep an updated catalog in my head of mine.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
A general warning
Girl is cranky today. Slept very poorly. Dreamed inexplicable things. Eyes hurt upon waking. Grainy-like.
Just want to crawl back in bed. But can't. Too much stupid crap that doesn't mean anything to get done.
And......scene.
Just want to crawl back in bed. But can't. Too much stupid crap that doesn't mean anything to get done.
And......scene.
Monday, January 01, 2007
New Years Eve in dullsville
We didn't go out. We didn't do much. We watched French movies, drank a couple of special beers and went to bed at 12:05. We slept and slept.
We are happy. We watched the fireworks from the bedroom window. We kissed. We went to bed and slept and slept.
We woke up without the hangovers of New Years pasts. We woke up with our colds intact, but diminished. We had slept and slept.
We woke up to a grey day, and a Samuel L. movie on the TV. Get those Motherfucking snakes off of this Motherfucking plane. But not that Samuel L. movie. It's just the first thing I think of. We slept until it was on. Slept and slept.
I feel right now like I don't have to ever sleep again. But that worm will turn later. And I will sleep. And dream again.
We are happy. We watched the fireworks from the bedroom window. We kissed. We went to bed and slept and slept.
We woke up without the hangovers of New Years pasts. We woke up with our colds intact, but diminished. We had slept and slept.
We woke up to a grey day, and a Samuel L. movie on the TV. Get those Motherfucking snakes off of this Motherfucking plane. But not that Samuel L. movie. It's just the first thing I think of. We slept until it was on. Slept and slept.
I feel right now like I don't have to ever sleep again. But that worm will turn later. And I will sleep. And dream again.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
