michele

unpotable water strikes again. obviously running thru the sprinklers at phill park during last night’s baseball was not my most well-thought out plan as i am now disgustingly ill and have trouble raising my head the scant inches necessary to sip water from a cup while lying prone on my couch. i have been re-reading the same paragraphs in my current book multiple times trying to ascertain the archaic meanings of words. sentences say what?

but then wonders never ceasing the phone company sent someone early to fix our dsl which was broken from the painting and floor ripping upping. so now for the first time in a week we have working internet again. it was too much to resist and i must push myself up to come and post.

people might be wondering what has happened to me or what i have been doing since i have been so inconoclastically shut up for quite some time. other than the swimming at kristen’s parents house and the painting of my own home and the ripping up of all the carpets, i have not been doing much. i read every day and i go and see some of the worst movies it has even been my misprivilage to view. and as i am lazy and unable to keep up with sushi movie reviews besides the fact that i feel pretentious even having a movie review page (what right? what but none?) i am thinking of subsuming it to sushi and just mentioning my theatre expeditions here every once in a while. but for now i have put all my latest notes up over there.

anyway, the new job search hasn’t even begun. the applying to grad schools hasn’t either. i helped a little with research for the production company. and i’m helping with the putting in of hardwood floors at my house. and i’m going back to dvc this time to finally make it thru to learning japanese (domo arigato mr roboto). my brother is moving back in for four months with his damn ferrets who, he has warned me, hide in couch cushions now and bite your ass when you’re least expecting it. my elation is boundless as a shallow puddle. hmph.

p.s. happy late birthday, james!

yesterday in my never-ending quest for the perfect suntan i managed to miscalculate the amount of protective cream needed on a region that seldom sees sun.

my ass is now the ass of fire.

incredibly uncomfortable, let me tell you.

but i suppose this is what one gets when the goal is to be suntanned all over, fair and balance.

‘stick it where the sun don’t shine’ is an imperative i taunt with my red and shiny bottom.

last night with kristen i joined a cult. yes, a cult. who knew that going to a dance performance would be so very similar to signing away my life in a group suicide pledge? how many psychos will now come looking at my page for mass suicide pacts do you think? but it’s ok because willie brown sanctioned 5H, (our cult sponsor, very money-grubby. we had to watch a video during the intermission about all their accomplishments so they could jab us again with their pleas for financial aid.)

the dancing was lots of classical indian and yogic traditions. in traditional dress (ie saris). i found myself drifting a lot which is what my normal reality has become as i live increasingly within my own head. i had this lovely daydream about learning to do indian dancing, dancing it at a club, seducing a cute boy, spending the whole weekend with him. it was fun. i was quite pleased with this potential future. particularly when he offered to be my sugar daddy.

not having much in the way of responsibilities has completely cut me off from normal human interaction. it’s a good thing that i can be my own best friend and my cranium seems like a safe enough space for retreat for now.

kristen and i did get all dressed up and there is a picture. but eloise/gallery remote is being too, too temperamental so you will have to bide some time of your own.

today my mom got stung by a bee and she is all with the serious allergic reaction and took lots of benadryl and passed out. i do not like this. i do not like having a mother who is so susceptible to dangerous things like throats closing up. it makes me nervous. i have to keep walking out to the family room to check that she is still breathing in her chair. so far, so good.

back into my head i go.

although i am not adverse to a little growling in bed, i take it amiss when the animal doing all the growling happens to be a raccoon unwantedly sticking his head in MY window.

last night. happily minding my own business re-reading the books about the girl who can see ghosts, someone sticks their head in the window and bats at the blinds. i’m flipping over going, “oh fats waller, have you come for dinner?” but this inviting sentence is broken off on a choked scream as i get a good look at the beady eyes and poky snout nosing into my bedroom. definitely not a fats waller face. in fact the face of a vicious little coon who happens to think he deserves to be in my room. oh-ho-ho, i think not.

i took pictures of them (yes them, because FIVE new coons appear to have moved into our neighborhood) and then i slammed the window on their distrusting, growly little faces.

picture #1

picture #2

because you are all such flatterers, i am also putting up one more picture of crinkly haired me.

most of you who read this won’t care because you don’t know any of these people, but here are the pictures from my cousin john and katherine’s wedding. if you missed me writing about it before, here is the description i gave. and here is my original post when i found out they were getting married. ho ho ho. nostalgia, that was a good post.