[you don't cry like i do]

- some pics from california that my friend took while i was cooking dinner...







- it amuses me when, in the course of a conversation, i confess i haven't been to work since december and they say, 'oh, so you've been a bum - nice!'
au contraire.

- i am starting to sort through our photo collection. 26 years worth of photos is a long time, lots of people, and many places.

- abigail comes tomorrow.

[mmf]

very unmotivated lately.
i need to be working on my college application (am required to write 5 750-wordsorless essays for this particular school) but i don't wanna.

i don't think i even want to go, so why should i spend time on a lame, half-ass attempt?
i don't want to do anything but what i already do (with some slight alterations)...take pictures, spend too much money on music, work, and read whatever i like.
yeah, that probably sounds really lazy but i want LIVE, not scamper from thing to thing waiting for my life to start.

life has been pretty sweet lately...i just start the week already tired and end it crabby and exhausted, literally going to bed at 9:30 some nights.
[this may have something to do with my hypoglycemia...currently trying to remedy it by a better diet. and that's another thing - i'm always eating now, like a bird. peck here, peck there, peck peck peck. good thing i like food.]


dearest might come and see me this week.
she must. no is not an option.

i've been rereading mccarthy's 'the road' - sometimes aloud so i can feel the delicious words.
it is like poetry.
feel this passage:

no lists of things to be done. the day providential to itself. the hour. there is no later. this is later. all things of grace and beauty such that one holds them to one's heart have a common provenance in pain. their birth in grief and ashes. so, he whispered to the sleeping boy.
i have you.

[poetry]

he woke toward the morning with the fire down to coals and walked out to the road. everything was alight. as if the lost sun were returning at last. the snow orange and quivering. a forest fire making its way along the tinderbox ridges above them, flaring and shimmering against the overcast like the northern lights. cold as it was he stood there a long time. the color of it moved something in him long forgotten. make a list.
recite a litany.
remember.

dark of the invisible moon. the nights now only slightly less black. by day the banished sun circles the earth like a grieving mother with a lamp.

it's the many hundreds of passages like this that make mccarthy's 'the road' so absolutely breathtaking.

[baby lovin's]

an image from last summer.



the weather has turned lovely, and so once i've finished making bread i think i'll go plant some bulbs.
i told several of my male friends this and they said, 'LIGHTbulbs?'

go watch 'moon'.

it's everything 2001 wasn't with the added benefit of a clint mansell score that is truly amazing.

[raving lunatic]

I'm standing on a stage
Of fear and self-doubt
It's a hollow play
But they'll clap anyway.

My body is a cage that keeps me
From dancing with the one I love
But my mind holds the key.

I'm living in an age
That calls darkness light
Though my language is dead
Still the shapes fill my head.

uh-oh.
i'm starting to enjoy listening to arcade fire.
oh boy.