Slice of life

Things that stand out, lately.

My boss (5'0") and my new coworker (5'0") danced around me hooting and waving their fingers, like some sort of brownies/elves. Being big is unsettling enough, without some tiny people emphasizing the difference in proportion in the fucking weirdest possible way...I am not a maypole, that's all I'm saying.

Then, yesterday, went on the garden tour, a bourgeois, civilized, intrusive sort of way to spend a morning (morning; best time of day to go fuck yourself). Saw the most robotic bluegrass trio ever, watched the hoi-polloi getting massages in other people's backyards-come on, really? A harpist, of all things, and a 10 year-old entrepreneur screaming at strangers-"get over here! buy some raspberry lemonade!". The hard sell, I think that's called. But there were a few lovely gardens this year, and they were nicely contiguous, though inclined to be steep.

Ha.

And then blunch, always good is blunch. Good turnout this week, with Dananna and Capable Thunder. My mother-she made a pun. Good for her. New wafflemaker stepped up, delivered. Can't ask much more from a $3 appliance.

Today is quiet, as I am under the weather (aren't we all, save astronauts). Spent some time manufacturing vitamin D. Cirrus clouds like the damask on God's great blue blade. And seriously, fuck Paul McCartney and his Starbucks commercial. Evil, evil son of a bitch-I hope Ringo's last to go.

Punchy

After tonight, the nights will get longer.


...


Good.

New phonebook day

is like the blandest, most bureaucratic christmas ever. Some strange, magical man drops you off a package-no gifts, no coal, just this grey and yellow anachronism.

Lots to say...no words to say it. My tissues are deficient in something today. Dovetails.

Demon with a silver tongue

Christ, I'm worn out. Come on out, Christ. Bring on the nukes. Staring at the sky and waiting, waiting.

Blood from the stone, today, and this week in general. I'll carry my share of the water. Verthandi and Ares, Sundance and the neo-bloodless. And Blunch, always Blunch. My kitchen keeps it real, but it's a little too real in there right now, if you know what I mean. My karma (cough) can't bear the deaths of any more arthropods, anti-ant though I may be.

And...

Fucking Thursdays.

Mr. I'm too good for the dark

My life is full of Gifts. Joyous, intricate, and odd...some are terrible. But they're all Gifts. I'd will have, would have, sat here and listed them one by one. Day by day. But they're hard, like staring at the sun to think of, and I can't bring myself to share them. Just know, if you're reading this, you're probably one of them.

da da da-da da-da da da da DA

Somewhere along the way, I went from calling people "Hoss", like in Bonanza, to calling them "Hass", like the avocado.


It likely don't matter to the rest of you, but it's up there in my head every time.

Fur

I'm at that weird point where I don't want to sleep...but I can't think of many good reasons to be awake, either. I feel like I'm at a cusp, like I'm listening intently for the squeak of a hinge somewhere. My adventures (and I think of them like that-my days and the moments in them) have been many and varied in the last couple of days, but still, I'm unsatisfied. Troubled, maybe, but maybe not. Whatever it is, I hope it passes.

This is not me.

Taiwan won't be far behind

Motherfuckers...pray I never obtain a djinni.