.:kikazaru, iwazaru, mizaru desu:.

2008-08-06T22:59:00.001-05:00

lacking models, it's either flowers or self portraits...
and I ain't got no flowers...

Last night I dreamed...

2008-07-12T10:26:00.002-05:00

Last night I dreamed of turtles rolling down a kind of gully or brook. First it was a river. wide and not rushing harsh, but moving fast, and they were going at a fast past. There were about 3 of them. The female was pregnant. She was in the middle. She was wise. Not just smart or intelligent. WISE. the way you know the "Ancients" were "Wise". Her wisdom was granted to the two male turtles. One male was older - and this is weird, but he had aspects of my brother, in his thoughts. His thoughts came across as Van. The other, younger turtle was a little boy and I didn't know him. I just knew he was a little boy. The female was at times me, and at other times obviously not me. She was pregnant. She made mention of the last time she was pregnant when she THOUGHT she was never going to get pregnant again, when she conceived in San Francisco in 66, and my brother said that's when and where his sister (I) was conceived and born. Now in real life, I don't know where I was conceived. I do know where I was born. This female turtle talked of her son who was born the day before I was born. My brother's thoughts intruded that this would make his sister (me) and the turtle's son almost birthday twins. This seemed to be important to the conversation as they paddled down the middle of the really clear fresh water. I could taste the cold cleanness of it. See the turtle's feet padding through it, little sunbursts of reflection... clear water not dark or muddy. and then the turtles were rolling freely like balls spinning on the water's surface down the stream as the found themselves around a bend and the water becomes less and less until it's a trickle in a grassy green gorge with other types of water/land creatures panting on the sides, wanting water, but finding very little. there were mostly other turtles.

I will tell you that the day was beautiful. it was bright and sunny and the sides along the stream were grassy and flowers grew, like a brook in springtime. The smells were fresh and full of growing. the older male turtle was on my (her) left. the younger, small child turtle was on my (her) right. as we get to where the water is less and less, we must now swim, we must now paddle, we must now walk through the water, we must now trudge alongside mud and grass, but green grass, fresh. It is no drought. it is that the water is no more. doesn't make sense because this is the direction the water took us. She (I) didn't notice an offshoot of the river. The water just peters out. And all these other water creatures are confused and they're asking a "sheriff" turtle - yes, the turtle had a sheriff's hat! and he had an old TV sheriff face working in the face of the turtle, and a deep, almost but not quite kind, authoritative Sheriff's voice with the hint of southern accent that television likes to give to most Sheriffs - unlike the Irish accent TV likes to give to cops. Why are sheriffs southern and cops Irish?

the three turtles ask the sheriff turtle "where is the water"? and he says " you must be mistaken. There's never been any water in this part of the _____" (I still don't know what he called it.)... but the female (I - me - she) says "There's no mistake. I've lived here all my life. I know this part of the river. There's always been water here up until now." and the Sheriff Turtle - I don't know. I think he was supposed to tell us - them - the turtles this. I think something happened to the water where it was being taken away, and the taking of the water was not a good or legal thing, and the people - the turtles - wouldn't appreciate it, so it was being done in a very tricky and hidden manner. The Sheriff Turtle says "You're wrong. You're old. There's never been any water here" while he's standing at the edge of a puddle of water. he's leaning, almost panting - as are the other animals - inside the curved wall of the river - forward and to the left of the female turtle. there are other animals lined back the way we came, wet and tired and panting and they all want water. And for some reason, going back the way we came was not the option. Going forward was the only reasonable option. She (and now it was I) insisted "there's always been water here. I rolled this river when I was a kid."

The Sheriff Turtle says "that's it. I'll see YOU at the station!"

To which we said "Yes" and we turned back around upstream, to ramp. We were going to walk - willingly - to the station. I was taking the 2 males with me. I was talking about my pregnancy. I was talking about how the last time I got pregnant, I was sure that was the last time I was going to be pregnant. But here I was filled with child. I can't remember if I was ok with the concept or not. I remember I was older than the male on my left and we were both obviously older than the male on my right. I had fleeting thoughts of the father, but not many. We were now walking up a grassy slope, away from a retention pond built beside a freeway. We were walking up and around to the right, as the traffic was building on the road to the left. I cold see the faces of people in their cars and they were miserable, or angry, cussing, taking sharp turns to the off-ramp. That's where we were walking. There was a sidewalk that spiraled back down towards the right. on the far side of the road, ... it was like - the road - as we got to the top - bridged over an open sewer system. concrete and water, wide enough to drive cars through. The sides were not sloped up towards the road. They were a straight drop. So as we got to the top of this hill, and we're facing forward, theres the road - in the forward direction - bridging across the concrete ditch. And then there's the off-ramp just in front of us, spiraling to the right. We have to take the spiral to the right, back down, because there's an entrance to the sewers that we need to take in order to get to the Station. the guys don't want to go. they're scared. We walk down the spiral to the entrance of the sewer and I tell them this is the safest way to get under the road. it smells, and it's dark in there, but we're turtles. We're used to mud and muck. But this isn't clean mud and muck. this is sewer pollution mud and muck. But it's ok. I remember pointing out the the guys how , see? see how the cars become nicer and more expensive as we enter this part of town - before we go into the sewer. See? This means we've left out part of town. And for some reason that was really significant. The freeway was so much concrete. The sky wasn't as blue - it was more gray/blue and then we go into the sewer and come out the other side into night and a kind of bayou that we're trudging through. Smells like earth and water. Rich smell to it. I know the smell, but I'm having a hard time describing it. Not a bad smell by any standards. just the smell of wet soil and bits of moss and grass...

now we're walking and we're not quite turtles anymore. Now we're people. the guy with the thoughts that remind me of my brother is beside me. He doesn't look like Van, but he's got something turtle about his face but not in a bad way. he's got the coloring of a Maori, in his face and his hair, with what might be markings on his face. the child is a young boy but I can't remember what he looks like and I just don't know why he's with us. I'm me. but I know that now. But I don't feel pregnant. I don't look pregnant. We walk up to this place it's a shack in the bayou with a screen door. the paint is deep green and flaking off the rotten black wood of the door. The screen is rusty, but I don't remember it having any holes or needing patching. We enter and I tell the guys "we enter at night so they don't see us clearly, so they don't know what we are." We're mystical creatures of some sort and if the people see us, they'll know and they'll want to hurt us.

there is a laundry in this place. The "Brother" figure is walking with a cane - not quite a limp - but I get the impression he can't walk "Not Turtle" without it, in the presence of people.

some time around this moment, I think the young boy is gone. Some time at this moment, I'm the one who enters the establishment. Now I must wash my clothes to remove and separate the sugar. Yes. I had to launder - and remove into a separate container - the sugar that was in my clothing. I don't know. I dream it. I don't understand it.

so I'm in front of a row of washers and driers and I'm putting clothing into a front load machine that's both washer and drier. And there's barely enough room between me and the wall. I'm loading my wet clothing in and the machine is carefully rinsing the sugar into a separate area and then drying the sugar out, into what would be the lint-bin

there are guys there from Mayport - the Naval base here in Jacksonville, north of Atlantic beach. they're doing their laundry. We all know we have to wait our turn on the machines. there are 3 other machines to the left of me and they can walk around to the machines to do their laundry, but they seem to wait for me to finish using my machine - at first. I am aware that my companions are waiting patiently outside for me. I'm also aware that I'm naked. covered by the machine and a black long sweater laying over me. I did this. I mean, I removed all my clothing to put into the machine, to remove the sugar, and I seem to remember grabbing the long thin black sweater thing to cover myself while I waited. I don't know if I was worried about being nude in public or how it might disturb others who just wanted to come do their laundry. It wasn't a sexual thing. It wasn't quite a modesty thing. It was more a courtesy to the others using the laundry. Just because I was naked didn't mean they had to deal with it. when the washer/drier stopped, it turns out my sugar and my clothes were in the same bag and I had to remove my clothes carefully from the bag, and the drier lint, from the sugar. My friend Paige was there. She was also doing her laundry - but not naked. She was just ... there, actually. Kind of as moral support or something. One of the guys from Mayport had finally opted to use one of the machines next to mine. He was friendly and chatty but I don't remember what we talked about. I removed my clothes and fluff from the sugar and poured the sugar back into the machine to remove the last bits of linen and cotton fluff and was rewarded with a bag of pure sugar that I needed to place into a bin outside or something like that. I went into the bathroom to put my long denim skirt and black long sleeve t-shirt back on. I remember these articles of clothing. The t-shirt was a tissue-weight T I'd bought at Target (I actually own this) The skirt was a deep blue denim skirt I *used* to own, that I'd also bought at Target. In the bathroom, I looked in the mirror at my body and was really really happy with my form and figure. Not turtle-like anymore, but it was me. slender long lean beautiful and I was very happy at the sight of me. I was stretching and arching my back and lifting my arms - holding a bag of sugar in my left hand - and then Paige knocked on the door to ask if I was alright. that's when I woke up.

Zoloft & Caffeine: A return to me...

2008-07-09T23:52:00.001-05:00

Thought I forgot about you, didn't ya?

Wellll... I didn't!

Zoloft & Caffeine: Le Sigh

2007-12-04T15:23:00.000-05:00

Cuz even though it sux that you won't be able to work for the next two weeks, it still means you get to spend the next two weeks with me.

yummy!

Zoloft & Caffeine: Last night, I...

2007-10-06T17:58:00.000-05:00

...danced in the rain

...drank too much

...threw up Sushi

Broke up with you

Not necessarily in that order

Lighting a candle for me...

2007-09-18T12:29:00.001-05:00

Because I also need the light. I'm without direction or cause and lately without hope. So I lit one for myself today. And one for my little man. Something to guide us out of this mucky yucky nasty place and back into the world of ... well isn't that interesting.

I don't know where the fuck the light will lead.

There and Back Again

2006-12-17T13:38:00.000-05:00

Needed to get away. So I got away. It was a good getaway!

When will I be a part of "We?"

2006-11-05T16:28:00.000-05:00

Right now, at this moment, I'm feeling about as disconnected as I possibly can, from everyone and everything.

Just a series of random events which served to remind me that I still crave to be a part of "We."

Me and you. Us. We. Ours.

I was meant to be shared. Not observed or even coveted.

I do not like this lack of connection.

It scares me.

Olbermann's Special Comment (11/1)

2006-11-02T11:47:00.000-05:00

Special Thanks to R. Kastl for posting this. I am reposting. I am asking you all to for once in your fucking lives just THINK!

---

Olberman's Special Comment

On the 22nd of May, 1856, as the deteriorating American political system veered towards the edge of the cliff, Congressman Preston Brooks of South Carolina, shuffled into the Senate of this nation, his leg stiff from an old dueling injury, supported by a cane. And he looked for the familiar figure of the prominent Senator from Massachusetts, Charles Sumner.

Brooks found Sumner at his desk, mailing out copies of a speech he had delivered three days earlier � a speech against slavery.

The Congressman matter-of-factly raised his walking stick in mid-air, and smashed its metal point, across the Senator's head.

Congressman Brooks hit his victim repeatedly. Senator Sumner somehow got to his feet and tried to flee. Brooks chased him, and delivered untold blows to Sumner's head. Even though Sumner lay unconscious and bleeding, on the Senate floor, Brooks finally stopped beating him, only because his cane finally broke.

Others will cite John Brown's attack on the arsenal at Harper's Ferry as the exact point after which the Civil War became inevitable.

In point of fact, it might have been the moment � not when Brooks broke his cane over the prostrate body of Senator Sumner - but when voters in Brooks's district started sending him new canes.

Tonight, we almost wonder to whom President Bush will send the next new cane.

There is tonight no political division in this country that he and his party will not exploit, nor have not exploited; no anxiety that he and his party will not inflame.

There is no line this President has not crossed � nor will not cross � to keep one political party, in power.

He has spread any and every fear among us, in a desperate effort to avoid that which he most fears � some check, some balance against what has become not an imperial, but a unilateral presidency.

And now it is evident that it no longer matters to him, whether that effort to avoid the judgment of the people, is subtle and nuanced � or laughably transparent.

Senator John Kerry called him out Monday.

He did it two years too late.

He had been too cordial � just as Vice President Gore had been too cordial in 2000 � just as millions of us, have been too cordial ever since.

Senator Kerry, as you well know, spoke at a college in Southern California. With bitter humor, he told the students that he had been in Texas the day before, that President Bush used to live in that state, but that now he lives in the state of denial.

He said the trip had reminded him about the value of education � that quote "if you make the most of it, you study hard, you do your homework, and you make an effort to be smart, you can do well. If you don't, you can get stuck in Iraq."

The Senator, in essence, called Mr. Bush stupid.

The context was unmistakable: Texas;the state of denial;stuck in Iraq. No interpretation required.

And Mr. Bush and his minions responded, by appearing to be too stupid to realize that they had been called stupid.

They demanded Kerry apologize � to the troops in Iraq.

And so he now has.

That phrase "appearing to be too stupid" is used deliberately, Mr. Bush.

Because there are only three possibilities here:

One, sir, is that you are far more stupid than the worst of your critics have suggested; that you could not follow the construction of a simple sentence; that you could not recognize your own life story when it was deftly summarized; that you could not perceive it was the sad ledger of your presidency that was being recounted.

This, of course, compliments you, Mr. Bush, because even those who do not "make the most of it," who do not "study hard," who do not "do their homework," and who do not "make an effort to be smart" might still just be stupid � but honest.

No; the first option, sir, is, at best, improbable. You are not honest.

The second option is that you and those who work for you deliberately twisted what Senator Kerry said to fit your political template. That you decided to take advantage of it, to once again pretend that the attacks, solely about your own incompetence, were in fact attacks on the troops � or even on the nation itself.

The third possibility is, obviously, the nightmare scenario; that the first two options are in some way conflated.

That it is both politically convenient for you, and personally satisfying to you, to confuse yourself with the country for which, sir, you work.

A brief reminder, Mr. Bush: You are not the United States of America.

You are merely a politician whose entire legacy will have been a willingness to make anything political � to have, in this case, refused to acknowledge that the insult wasn't about the troops, and that the insult was not even truly about you either � that the insult, in fact, is you.

So now John Kerry has apologized to the troops; apologized for the Republicans' deliberate distortions.

Thus the President will now begin the apologies he owes our troops, right?

This President must apologize to the troops � for having suggested, six weeks ago, that the chaos in Iraq, the death and the carnage, the slaughtered Iraqi civilians and the dead American service personnel, will, to history, quote "look like just a comma."

This President must apologize to the troops � because the intelligence he claims led us into Iraq proved to be undeniably and irredeemably wrong.

This President must apologize to the troops � for having laughed about the failure of that intelligence, at a banquet, while our troops were in harm's way.

This President must apologize to the troops � because the streets of Iraq were not strewn with flowers and its residents did not greet them as liberators.

This President must apologize to the troops � because his administration ran out of "plan" after barely two months.

This President must apologize to the troops � for getting 2,815 of them killed.

This President must apologize to the troops � for getting this country into a war without a clue.

And Mr. Bush owes us an apology� for this destructive and omnivorous presidency. �

We will not receive them, of course.

This President never apologizes.

Not to the troops.

Not to the people.

Nor will those henchmen who have echoed him.

In calling him a "stuffed suit," Senator Kerry was wrong about the Press Secretary.

Mr. Snow's words and conduct � falsely earnest and earnestly false � suggest he is not "stuffed" - he is inflated.

And in leaving him out of the equation, Senator Kerry gave an unwarranted pass to his old friend Senator McCain, who should be ashamed of himself tonight.

He rolled over and pretended Kerry had said what he obviously had not.

Only, the symbolic stick he broke over Kerry's head came in a context, even more disturbing: Mr. McCain demanded the apology, while electioneering for a Republican congressional candidate in Illinois.

He was speaking of how often he had been to Walter Reed Hospital to see the wounded Iraq veterans, of how, quote "many of the have lost limbs." He said all this while demanding that the voters of Illinois reject a candidate who is not only a wounded Iraq veteran, but who lost two limbs there: Tammy Duckworth.

Support some of the wounded veterans. But bad-mouth the Democratic one.

And exploit all the veterans, and all the still-serving personnel, in a cheap and tawdry political trick, to try to bury the truth: that John Kerry said the President had been stupid.

And to continue this slander as late as this morning � as biased, or gullible, or lazy newscasters, nodded in sleep-walking assent.

Senator McCain became a front man in a collective lie to break sticks over the heads of Democrats � one of them his friend; another his fellow veteran, leg-less, for whom he should weep and applaud, or at minimum about whom, he should stay quiet.

That was beneath the Senator from Arizona.

And it was all because of an imaginary insult to the troops that his party cynically manufactured � out of a desperation, and a futility, as deep as that of Congressman Brooks, when he went hunting for Senator Sumner.

This, is our beloved country now, as you have re-defined it, Mr. Bush.

Get a tortured Vietnam veteran to attack a decorated Vietnam veteran, in defense of military personnel, whom that decorated veteran did not insult.

Or, get your henchmen to take advantage of the evil lingering dregs of the fear of miscegenation in Tennessee, in your party's advertisements against Harold Ford.

Or, get the satellites who orbit around you, like Rush Limbaugh, to exploit the illness � and the bi-partisanship � of Michael J. Fox � yes, get someone to make fun of the cripple.
Oh, and sir, don't forget to drag your own wife into it.

"It's always easy," she said of Mr. Fox's commercials � and she used this phrase twice � "to manipulate people's feelings."

Where on earth might the First Lady have gotten that idea, Mr. President?

From your endless manipulation of people's feelings about terrorism?

"How ever they put it," you said Monday of the Democrats, on the subject of Iraq , "their approach comes down to this: the terrorists win and America loses."

No manipulation of feelings there.

No manipulation of the charlatans of your administration into the only truth-tellers.

No shocked outrage at the Kerry insult that wasn't; no subtle smile as the First Lady silently sticks the knife in Michael J. Fox's back; no attempt on the campaign trail to bury the reality that you have already assured that the terrorists are winning.

Winning in Iraq, sir.

Winning in America, sir.

There, we have chaos: joint U.S./Iraqi checkpoints at Sadr City, the base of the radical Shiite militias � and the Americans have been ordered out by the Prime Minister of Iraq� and our Secretary of Defense doesn't even know about it!

And here � we have deliberate, systematic, institutionalized lying and smearing and terrorizing � a code of deceit, that somehow permits a President to say, quote, "If you listen carefully for a Democrat plan for success, they don't have one."

Permits him to say this while his plan in Iraq has amounted to a twisted version of the advice once offered to Lyndon Johnson about his Iraq, called Vietnam.

Instead of "declare victory � and get out"� we now have "declare victory � and stay, indefinitely."

And also here, we have institutionalized the terrorizing of the opposition. True domestic terror:

� Critics of your administration in the media receive letters filled with fake anthrax.

� Braying newspapers applaud, or laugh, or reveal details the FBI wished kept quiet, and thus impede or ruin the investigation.

� A series of reactionary columnists encourages treason charges against a newspaper that published "national security information" � that was openly available on the internet.

� One radio critic receives a letter, threatening the revelation of as much personal information about her as can be obtained � and expressing the hope that someone will then shoot her with an AK-47 machine gun.

� And finally, a critic of an incumbent Republican Senator, a critic armed with nothing but words, is attacked by the Senator's supporters, and thrown to the floor, in full view of television cameras, as if someone really did want to re-enact the intent and the rage of the day Preston Brooks found Senator Charles Sumner.

Of course, Mr. President, you did none of these things.

You instructed no one to mail the fake anthrax. Nor undermine the FBI's case. Nor call for the execution of the editors of the New York Times. Nor threaten to assassinate Stephanie Miller. Nor beat up a man yelling at Senator Allen. Nor have the first lady knife Michael J. Fox. Nor tell John McCain to lie about John Kerry.

No, you did not.

And the genius of the thing, is the same, as in King Henry's rhetorical question about Archbishop Thomas Becket: "Who will rid me of this meddlesome priest?"

All you have to do, sir� is hand out enough new canes.

Gomi Got INKED!

2006-09-24T21:10:00.000-05:00

This is just above my right hip. I'm going to get a similar tattoo on my left hip. They'll be "facing" each other. "-)

2006-09-20T09:44:00.000-05:00

I Shall Not Shake My Ass Today
By the Gomi Girl

I shall not shake
my ass today
nor flaunt my sexuality

I shall not shimmy
nor I shake
Nor cause a young man's heart to quake

I shall not shake my ass today

I shall not shake
my ass today
nor move my legs in certain ways

I shall not slink
nor I shiver
nor cause an old man's heart to quiver

I shall not shake my ass today

I shall not shake
my ass today
instead I think that I shall pray

For just one single moment's peace
from silly playboys begging please
(but my mom raised a sinful tease)

I shall not shake my ass today

Another F'n Sleepless Night.

2006-09-17T09:43:00.000-05:00

I imagine one day climbing into that bed, curling up in the blankets and feeling the warmth of someone I care about, spooning me, holding me, and comforting me to sleep. Until that happens, I really do need to learn how to sleep by myself.

I'm not even going to make it...

2006-09-13T20:39:00.000-05:00

I am soooo damned sleepy! I pro'lly won't even make it to BLADE: the Series, tonight! Dammit! It's the Season finale! I have 1/2 an hour left. I was going to watch Project Runway, then Blade, but I think I'm just going to have to watch Blade and miss who gets kicked off the runway tonight.

Maybe someone could tape Runway for me, and then send it to me? VHS!

Or am I the only person in the world left with VHS? (Too Poor for Tivo! )

DAVE!!!!!!!!!

2006-09-13T15:48:00.000-05:00

CO2, DAVE! CO2!!!
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
caught ya lookin'!

I will always miss getting lost in you

2006-09-12T15:26:00.000-05:00

There was something about us that could take me out of myself
Kill the past. Remove my mistaken identity. Replace me with me.

There was something about us that could take me out of myself.
Kill the pain. Remove the anger. Replace me with you.

There was something about us...
Kill it now. Remove this pain. Replace you with me.

No one can do that trick.
Replace me with me.
Remove you from me.
Kill this pain.

There is nothing about us now.

Sometimes I'm In The Mood For

2006-09-11T13:12:00.000-05:00

For Orly's Nail Lacquer
#053: Crawford's Wine

I mean, usually, I'm bare. Or if I'm polished at all, it's black, or maybe blue, or sometimes even white.

But sometimes... (And this is when the music takes me...)

Like now.

Because right now,
in my heart,
deep in my breast ,
beneath my breath

I. Long.

For a back scratcher
A hair puller.
A shoulder biter.

Jungle cat.

That perfect bottom lip to suck on.

And lacking all that, when the music moves me and my breath comes quick...

I do this for me.

From the first stroke to the final coat...

Orly's Nail Lacquer
#053: Crawford's Wine

LAST COLUMNIST TYPING :: HELP A (my) BROTHER OUT!

2006-09-09T12:39:00.000-05:00

Last Columnist Typing
A RockyMountainNews.com Contest

Click the link and scroll to the bottom. Find the name Van Walker. That's my bubba! He's in a kind of "Survivor" for Sports Writers.

I'm asking you guys to vote for him -- IF YOU THINK HE'S ANY GOOD!

See, I'm biased. I'm going to vote for him anyway! ;-)

HAVING A BAD DAY!

2006-09-08T10:33:00.000-05:00

having a bad day having a bad day having a bad day having a bad day HAVING A BAD DAY!!!!!

FUCK!

How Nerdy are You?

2006-09-07T19:07:00.000-05:00

THAT'S RIGHT! I am 75% NERD!!!!! Only 25% of the population is more nerdy than me!
And we all know Nerdy Chicks are HAWT!!!!!!

The love of my life

2006-08-17T11:00:00.000-05:00

is 6 years old. He just lost his bottom teeth. He's the color of caramel. He sweet. He giggles and I love him even more. He cries and I hurt for him. He's the reason I need to always have my act together.

Dear Curren, dear sweet monkey, dear little boy, my son, my love. I'll keep my head straight for you. I'll make sure everything is better for us. I want you to have everything. I want you to have the world. I'll make it happen.

I love you!

Mommy

Thanks for the reminder.

2006-08-16T15:43:00.000-05:00

Just in case I forgot where I stand, or who I can count on.

Tell me something I DIDN'T KNOW! :-)

2006-07-31T12:56:00.000-05:00

You scored as Storm. Storm is the secondary team leader of the X-Men. She has a peaceful personality but must be careful since her emotions control her powers. She loves gardening and is afraid of tight spaces. Powers: Control of the Weather

Storm

80%

Jean Grey

75%

Wolverine

50%

Cyclops

50%

Colossus

45%

Iceman

30%

Beast

25%

Gambit

25%

Rogue

20%

Emma Frost

15%

Nightcrawler

10%

Most Comprehensive X-Men Personality Quiz 2.0
created with QuizFarm.com

F'n Cable modem. F'n router!

2006-07-24T17:06:00.000-05:00

Dammit! So I get my computer up & running. And I get a new cable modem. And I have to set up my wireless network alllllllll over again and what this day's events, I'm just not up for it! Not only that, but I have no beer, I have no wine in the house!

This afternoon, I did go to a little coffee house and talk to strangers. Just up and started talking to strangers. I wanted to remember what it was like to just strike up a conversation.

It was wonderful! I had an excellent time! And that is what I'm taking away from this day!

I spent an hour talking to strangers about nothing in particular and made a couple of good real-world connections.

THAT made this entire day worth living.

Ciao!

No Internet :-(

2006-07-24T04:17:00.001-05:00

I didn't disappear in a fit of passion, anger, depression, love, lust, greif, or some other silly emotion. I just don't have an internet connection at home right now. And it's really not proper for me to blog & post while I have an office full of coworkers.

So I'll pro'lly be offline for a little bit!

Hugs!

No Internet :-(

2006-07-24T04:17:00.000-05:00

So I'll pro'lly be offline for a little bit!

Hugs!