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*goes for a walk around the house*

Fire in the belly from three or four glasses of good wine and a few hours of good conversation. I probably had a few too many, but I don't tend to do that often, so it's ok. I just went out to smoke a cigarette and it's quite hot in the sun; makes me want to stay inside looking at the computer. The longing grows more intense (yet without motivation, still) when I regard my bedroom shelves and the unsorted richness upon them.

And then I did the exact opposite.

Sure, I can listen to a rerun of an earlier show on radio, but it's not the same. I'm writing a letter. This one is a western, and we hope it suits you, hon. Much has happened but I don't feel like writing about it and I don't think you're interested.

So many creative urges are like biting that persimmon. In pigeons, doves and other birds, it shows up as cheesy white patches in the mouth and throat. The dove seemed to enjoy it. I know that stuff like this has happened in this head before, though perhaps not to this degree. I fear I may have accidently created a sentient being in the process. Wird das schöne Wort beknackt eigentlich noch von irgendwem verwendet? I only took one Klonopin.

I discussed the finer parts of industrial agreements, in particular state legislation vs commonwealth. I was told recently that the difference is that mechanical engineers build weapons, while civil engineers build targets. Meh. I'm tired and cranky. Can you tell? Seriously, my memetic identity and referential integrty must be at an all time low.

Anyway, I should go be social now.
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Getting spiritual nourishment from this chaos of events, sensations, and devious interpretations is the equivalent of trying to pick through a garbage pile for food. People are panicking, crying, and running in and out of their homes with the few remaining things they can gather. When exactly did this start? I won't be surprised if it still happens for me. If you don't get the dirt off the driveway first thing in the morning, who knows what could happen. However, self, you really should do these essays when they are assigned, and not on the day before they are due for pickup. Must be coherent. But therein lies the challenge, I guess. I think those conversations are boring and tedious, and serve only to divide, when, in these, some of the most troubled times of our nation's brief history, we should be coming together and uniting as a people. It's a necessity to commit this stuff to LJ because it'll just get lost in my own memory. And actually, the more I think about it, the more I realize a wiki might work better for the way my thoughts run in general. Hopefully I'll manage to post something that hasn't been posted already by people recently. This time I spent more than 30 minutes on the thing (a little under 3 hours from idea to completion), so it looks much better technically. If you want to take a peek, copies should be available at Border's and/or Barnes and Noble. Again, I felt guilty about doing it at the last minute and not typing it.

Can you tell I like Stephen King? LOL! Some of you are already aware of some of this. It's not exactly a secret now, is it. It really takes some getting used to, my main problem is that the punch line, or even any kind of ending, is missing to each of his fragments/stories/episodes. It means he thinks it works. The notes in sections wander in strange tangents, with looping arrows connecting seemingly unrelated points. I'm not entirely sure what this means. He also talked about how a collaboration is going to be different from the works of each author. There are people in this world who raise the urge in you to either smack them unconscious or drag them off into the next bed available. My watery morning eyes frosted over ...it seems like the whole thing never happened, ...except for the flowers in the driveway...

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Being 59% nerd is something to be proud of, right? Heh. Silly question, yay for backups! The nearer tree is a faintly-tinted-brown silhouette against this and the slightly bluer sky above. My family includes a raccoon. Got flu shot. (This entry was written from Monday to now. Sorry if it's not internally consistent.) Okay, you will all be happy to know that I successfully tied my tie on the first try. A guy from one of the woodworking places I've been in contact with is coming over for a consultation today. He seemed a little uptight about me being with John now, but I think as the evening went on things got better. Not that it matters, since he's a complete virgin raised in a Buddhist monastery. I had to come downstairs, for a spider crawled down my wall and down the side of my bed. And then Angelica lied (badly) about where her stick came from. Melynda's cheerfully unemployed and driving to Houston, the last mouse is dead, and I have an appointment in two hours for the dress. She has found a Carolina Herrera gown that she loves, but doesn't want to spend the entire national budget of a small country for it. Will also get hold of her laptop again, and see if I can figure out what's making it not want to boot up properly. It meant that Rikki and I, the two religious married ladies present, had to wear head coverings plus skirts over our uniform pants, but who cares?

Do limes count as food? And does the fact that I love Truffaut more and more mean that I am getting old?

I think the people here will miss Charlie (my raccoon) more than me, as he is very popular. That made me do a double-take. Got out of there, and had a few minutes at home to make a bunch of notes for later, before jumping back in the car. I'm not looking forward to having no Internet, having nothing to do, and missing Sam. Sometimes I have to break my return into two pieces, and sometimes I have to fly to a more distant regional airport, rent a car, and drive home. Maps, slideshows, and video links are available for further perusal. I wonder if killing my cats because they constanly wanna go places I don't want them would be good..
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