. . . . . entries for 21.6.08 . . . . .
- and also, before I woke up, I had a dream about a HUM field trip, only a bunch of old-time Nisky folks were there. It was to some eccentric couple's post-postmodern home, full of organic art structures, and during the few hours we had there we were supposed to create our own works of art. It was a good dream. I believe Susan, David, and Allie Tepper were all featured. And I painted trees - in all different colors, rainbowing back to the horizon of my canvas - only after weighing possibilities: should I write a story? Should I play with paint? Write? Paint? Story? Picture?
I went to bed around maybe 9 last night. I didn't mean to - I just meant to read Middlesex - but I was bushed from the whole up kinda late/back up kinda early schtick, so before I knew it I was waking up at 1 AM thinking "OH I SEE WHAT I DID THERE."
But it wasn't too bad. At 1 AM, I was awake a little while, so I set the alarm for just now and ruminated over today's activities. The sun is low on the horizon, low enough to turn the usually pale turquoise lichen on the tree next to my bedroom window bright Van Gogh chartreuse. I like it.
. . . . . entries for 19.6.08 . . . . .
OH. If you watch my facebook stati, you know I had an interesting morning. It was interesting for three reasons, in ascending order of interest:
1) No conditioner, for predictable reasons in the current Sherman household. My hair hasn't suffered much.
2) Some sketchy, rednecky guy honked at me as I was gassing up the STS at the Sunoco on Albany St. Um. Yeah. What a day to wear lipstick to work.
3) I set off the alarm at SICM because I switched two of the digits in the security system code. That was. . . alarming. Really. I panicked. But then I fixed it. So it was okay. I decided to view it as a funny sort of rite of passage.
Yo, still alive. Just so you know.
The following three Mondays are Frank's birthday, the liberal estimate for our (second) anniversary, and my birthday. Weird. I think Frank will like his birthday present. :)
There's sort of a birthday list for me on facebook, but I wish to let it be known that I wish to possess as few additional and superfluous material goods a month from now as humanly possible. If you know me, you probably know that I have too much junk. It's a family illness, that. Not even counting my trunk, which may also be somehow hereditary.
. . . . . entries for 12.6.08 . . . . .
All that profundity aside: I learned the hard way that one must go to 87 North and 90 when leaving Albany, not 87 South. That goes to Selkirk, not home. And I have no interest in Selkirk, especially not given the seven miles between Albany and its exit, upon which a medium-sized SUV can release some serious carbon dioxide.
To boil it down: I'm kind of an awful driver. My internal map is just beginning to form. I can't stay in my lane when checking my blind spot, I can't go a constant speed, and occasionally I just fail to notice stoplights. Others know this, to various extents, and I'm slowly coming to terms with the sad state of affairs what it is. I hope I'll get better. I'll try to.
Sigh. And I need to go to work again later.
I thought of adjectives I could use, and "haunted" came up. "I wish I weren't a haunted person." So the things I think of - things wrong, mostly, and big, important things - would then be ghosts, I guess. But that isn't right, is it? Because that implies that the subject of "it haunts" is a ghost - and the things I think of are. . . well, many of them are real. Those that aren't are problematic on a different level.
So maybe I am haunted, but I am also. . . lobbied. Solicited. Called. Written. Real things, looking to me to be dealt with, at least in some small capacity. At least to be paid attention to.
While not everyone is haunted, everyone is called, I think. But most don't listen.
Also: did you realize tomorrow is Friday the 13th? I think that's kind of. . . special.
BUSY DAY TODAY. In case you were wondering. 8:30ish until whenever (3ish?), then I have to go back at 6:30ish until (I'm guessing) 8:30ish. And I stayed up late to finish my character for a dungeon that is not even happening this weekend. At least it's done. I guess. o.o
Note to self: Must make reservation(s?). . . and potentially stop by someplace and get a present. Hmmmm.
. . . . . entries for 11.6.08 . . . . .
- what I mean to say is: maybe I should become a vegetarian. Maybe everyone should become a vegetarian. Structural unemployment be damned. This is everything. Do you see what I mean with this hard lesson schtick? Everything.
Apparently grain is twice the price it was five months ago in an African trading town whose name I don't recall, whose country I don't even recall.
Apparently people don't go to wildlife refuges in Kenya anymore because of political violence.
Apparently 20% of the American Midwest's annual corn crop has been stunted or destroyed by flooding so far this year.
This is a very, very hard lesson, and I don't think many people are paying attention.
. . . . . entries for 10.6.08 . . . . .
A tune - original? - popped into my head just now, involving going and soing. So whating, rather. It was cute.
Anyway. I was out in the storm for a few minutes, trying to rescue hanging plants. A couple are still out on shepherd's crooks, but the rest are at least sort of under cover. The plants were an excellent excuse to be outdoors during the storm. Tons of lightning, wind-driven waves on the pond, earth being kicked up into the blowing rain so I was being spattered with spring-smelling mist - it was nice.
My car is gone. :( At least for a little. Driving my mom into work in her much-less-fun-to-drive, high-profile vehicle in the morning. Ho hum.
. . . . . entries for 8.6.08 . . . . .
I wish I'd seen Movin' Out with my folks when it was here.
I need to write. And finish my character. And kayak tomorrow. How weird. Hm.
What is adulthood - or maybe, what is it to be "grown up?" Is it accepting drudgery? Is it rationalizing one's way out of feeling imprisoned in one's life? Is it life beyond the threshold of belief, when one no longer questions, no longer agonizes? Is it complete physiological and neurological development? And by the time I'm thirty or so, will I know? Not just this, but anything. Anything.
I'm not online much anymore. Just so you know. (This change has already caused problems. Ho hum.)
. . . . . entries for 6.6.08 . . . . .
Oh, so, right. I've been working for a week now. It's odd, and I still have other stuff to do, like nerdy stuff, and sappy stuff, and sensible stuff. So. Odd indeed. I don't know.
"No use crying over spilt libidinal investment, that's what I say." -redacted (har har.)
. . . . . entries for 3.6.08 . . . . .
Obama versus McCain it is, then. I hope all those dolt Democrats who claimed they'd vote for McCain if Hillary were not nominated will stop being dolts now. Please. Please. You can't mean to tell me you like all these wars.
. . . . . entries for 1.6.08 . . . . .
I also got pretty good grades this past semester, but I've read too much Marcus Aurelius and Petrarch this past year to put much stock in anyone else's judgment of me, particularly in such a tidy form as a GPA. Or at least I'd like to think that. It sounds badass, doesn't it?
This is the 4301st post. Good grief.
I am home from Nantucket. I have . . . I was about to write something, but Cassie just walked in with a Sherdrama update.
There has been a lot of Sherdrama. I. . . suppose I could comment on it at length, but if you know me well, you must at least sort of get it. And it is not the sort of thing that particularly belongs on the Internet. And I don't know that writing things out would necessarily make clear to me - and this is my blog after all - anything that is not clear already. I always murk things up and clear them in the same way again. Except earlier tonight. Tonight was a little different. I got angry.
I have to be at work at 9 tomorrow. That is what I was going to say.
My blog writing is bad and thinkwrity, and I have effectively given up on my Princeton CWR summer thing, kind of, sort of. I missed the first deadline. I was writing a villanelle, but it was too life-affirming, I think - it was supposed to be. It's not done.
I think I might write a short story about a raccoon. I've seen and heard of lots of raccoons this past week, including a baby and its mom, who I watched safely cross the road, and a stripy-tailed corpse by the median of the highway on today's drive back.
come home?
.:people:.
{ting}
she looks like the real thing
{mari}
out and about
[kelsey]
THIS IS AMERICA
{yianni}
stop being depressed
{alisa}
other
[shannon]
close and far
{frank}
islands where no islands should go
[cassie]
eating knowledge
{colin}
my dm
[emily]
shoulder to the wheel
[brian]
nostalgic for fantasy
[nicole]
industry insider
{elle}
angry enviro
[matt]
never heard of miyazaki
[pirate dan]
are you reading this?
[olga]
distracted
[messiah dan]
messiah/believer
{max}
approach focus
[natalie]
wait a minute
[susan]
solitude
{greg}
manbeargreg
.:past:.
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.:skin:.
turtles! turtles! by araglas
(heavily modified by yours truly)