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Jul. 6th, 2004
"We will push on into that mystery"
Jul. 6th, 2004 03:18 pman amazing four day weekend.
some bumps and bruises, but i'm not sure there's a day in my life that goes by without a little turmoil. which is a good thing, or i wouldn't know exactly how good i have it.
i'm not sure i have words for how good connecting with junkyard felt. or what a treasure he is. he's so wide open, and has pretty much quintessentially expressive puppy eyes. and i'm trying to think of the right words, because all the ones i'm coming up with sound kind of corny. suffice to say he's pretty much skyrocketed to right around the levels history and mech and media inhabit with a speed previously unheardof.
sometimes, when i feel like i'm in the middle of life bitchslapping me and saying "look, lady, you've got a problem with women. 97% of them either piss you off or scare you," something special gets dropped in my lap, like History's new roommate. (who desperately needs a name of her own, but all i can think of have to do with purring and scritches and how startlingly real she seems.) i got to dance in the rain with her, and play Dork Tower to its conclusion, and she understood sometimes winning the game is ruining the fun.
and i miss sanguine, and wish i could bring her a piece of the devils food cake i made (from scratch. go me!) but i'll just have to send postcards so full of affection that the ink blurs under the burden of conveying all of it.
i'm finally bleeding, and i'm finally into a novel enough that i'm eager to finish work to read it, for even if the plot leaves me a little annoyed, the tone speeds me forward through the pages.
and thunderstorms make me horny, and the snowboarding game (SSX3?) makes me giggle, and the idea of a life with light makes me grin beam like i was trying cramp my cheekmuscles.
some bumps and bruises, but i'm not sure there's a day in my life that goes by without a little turmoil. which is a good thing, or i wouldn't know exactly how good i have it.
i'm not sure i have words for how good connecting with junkyard felt. or what a treasure he is. he's so wide open, and has pretty much quintessentially expressive puppy eyes. and i'm trying to think of the right words, because all the ones i'm coming up with sound kind of corny. suffice to say he's pretty much skyrocketed to right around the levels history and mech and media inhabit with a speed previously unheardof.
sometimes, when i feel like i'm in the middle of life bitchslapping me and saying "look, lady, you've got a problem with women. 97% of them either piss you off or scare you," something special gets dropped in my lap, like History's new roommate. (who desperately needs a name of her own, but all i can think of have to do with purring and scritches and how startlingly real she seems.) i got to dance in the rain with her, and play Dork Tower to its conclusion, and she understood sometimes winning the game is ruining the fun.
and i miss sanguine, and wish i could bring her a piece of the devils food cake i made (from scratch. go me!) but i'll just have to send postcards so full of affection that the ink blurs under the burden of conveying all of it.
i'm finally bleeding, and i'm finally into a novel enough that i'm eager to finish work to read it, for even if the plot leaves me a little annoyed, the tone speeds me forward through the pages.
and thunderstorms make me horny, and the snowboarding game (SSX3?) makes me giggle, and the idea of a life with light makes me grin beam like i was trying cramp my cheekmuscles.
"We will push on into that mystery"
Jul. 6th, 2004 03:18 pman amazing four day weekend.
some bumps and bruises, but i'm not sure there's a day in my life that goes by without a little turmoil. which is a good thing, or i wouldn't know exactly how good i have it.
i'm not sure i have words for how good connecting with junkyard felt. or what a treasure he is. he's so wide open, and has pretty much quintessentially expressive puppy eyes. and i'm trying to think of the right words, because all the ones i'm coming up with sound kind of corny. suffice to say he's pretty much skyrocketed to right around the levels history and mech and media inhabit with a speed previously unheardof.
sometimes, when i feel like i'm in the middle of life bitchslapping me and saying "look, lady, you've got a problem with women. 97% of them either piss you off or scare you," something special gets dropped in my lap, like History's new roommate. (who desperately needs a name of her own, but all i can think of have to do with purring and scritches and how startlingly real she seems.) i got to dance in the rain with her, and play Dork Tower to its conclusion, and she understood sometimes winning the game is ruining the fun.
and i miss sanguine, and wish i could bring her a piece of the devils food cake i made (from scratch. go me!) but i'll just have to send postcards so full of affection that the ink blurs under the burden of conveying all of it.
i'm finally bleeding, and i'm finally into a novel enough that i'm eager to finish work to read it, for even if the plot leaves me a little annoyed, the tone speeds me forward through the pages.
and thunderstorms make me horny, and the snowboarding game (SSX3?) makes me giggle, and the idea of a life with light makes me grin beam like i was trying cramp my cheekmuscles.
some bumps and bruises, but i'm not sure there's a day in my life that goes by without a little turmoil. which is a good thing, or i wouldn't know exactly how good i have it.
i'm not sure i have words for how good connecting with junkyard felt. or what a treasure he is. he's so wide open, and has pretty much quintessentially expressive puppy eyes. and i'm trying to think of the right words, because all the ones i'm coming up with sound kind of corny. suffice to say he's pretty much skyrocketed to right around the levels history and mech and media inhabit with a speed previously unheardof.
sometimes, when i feel like i'm in the middle of life bitchslapping me and saying "look, lady, you've got a problem with women. 97% of them either piss you off or scare you," something special gets dropped in my lap, like History's new roommate. (who desperately needs a name of her own, but all i can think of have to do with purring and scritches and how startlingly real she seems.) i got to dance in the rain with her, and play Dork Tower to its conclusion, and she understood sometimes winning the game is ruining the fun.
and i miss sanguine, and wish i could bring her a piece of the devils food cake i made (from scratch. go me!) but i'll just have to send postcards so full of affection that the ink blurs under the burden of conveying all of it.
i'm finally bleeding, and i'm finally into a novel enough that i'm eager to finish work to read it, for even if the plot leaves me a little annoyed, the tone speeds me forward through the pages.
and thunderstorms make me horny, and the snowboarding game (SSX3?) makes me giggle, and the idea of a life with light makes me grin beam like i was trying cramp my cheekmuscles.