Thursday, June 17, 2004
what kind of spam is this??
apprehensive amethystine rankine brockle injury civic sedimentation conclusion imprecision allis redhead repudiate woodhen headstone brockle expiration introduce tibetan elizabeth inverness livingston meretricious
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apprehensive amethystine rankine brockle injury civic sedimentation conclusion imprecision allis redhead repudiate woodhen headstone brockle expiration introduce tibetan elizabeth inverness livingston meretricious
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Wednesday, June 16, 2004
Lucky you! You are a BOMBSHELL AMONG BOMBSHELLS,
Marilyn Monroe. You are the ultimate woman.
You've got style, class, sex appeal and most of
all "the look". You are every man's
dream girl, no matter what era. You're the
essence of everything feminine and sexy, but
are a little ditzy at times. All you need is
some red lipstick and some Chanel #5 and you've
got it made. Watch Marilyn float across the
screen in "The Seven Year Itch" to
see how a little bit of body language goes a
long way!
Who is your inner bombshell?
brought to you by Quizilla
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Tuesday, June 15, 2004
Mercy. I have so many things happening suddenly, after weeks of being stuck in neutral.
My boyfriend wants to find a way to live together. He's a city boy, needs the edginess of the city, needs to be near his writing workshop until he finishes his book. I need to be near trees, near a place to go walking in nature, and a little garden. I need access to friends and a dance community. I wonder if there's a place in the middle that will satisfy both of us? I'm still surprised. He even slipped and mentioned the m-word this weekend by accident.
This past week I've been getting flashes of the nursing home my grandmother was in before she died. Images of the parking lot, the landscaping outside. I wondered if it was near the anniversary of her death - strangely today, June 15th, is the day she died last year. Somehow my subconscious knew it - cues from the season? Something?
Sunday my brother took an advanced driving course that my dad had taken and loved - basically it's racing around an airport runway with professional racecar drivers egging everyone to go faster. My brother was driving with one hand on the wheel, and his instructor gave him such a hard time about it that he resolved to always use two hands from then on. On the way home from the course, his car went out of control, the front wheel went sideways and he layed a strip of rubber 175 feet. If he hadn't had both hands on the wheel, he might not have made it. The girl he was racing home to see said she loved him for the first time that night.
Weirdly enough, something similar happened to my dear friend Sena last week - she totaled her truck and ended up with a concussion. My superstitious side keeps saying these things happen in threes - so I hope everyone is careful on the roads.
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My boyfriend wants to find a way to live together. He's a city boy, needs the edginess of the city, needs to be near his writing workshop until he finishes his book. I need to be near trees, near a place to go walking in nature, and a little garden. I need access to friends and a dance community. I wonder if there's a place in the middle that will satisfy both of us? I'm still surprised. He even slipped and mentioned the m-word this weekend by accident.
This past week I've been getting flashes of the nursing home my grandmother was in before she died. Images of the parking lot, the landscaping outside. I wondered if it was near the anniversary of her death - strangely today, June 15th, is the day she died last year. Somehow my subconscious knew it - cues from the season? Something?
Sunday my brother took an advanced driving course that my dad had taken and loved - basically it's racing around an airport runway with professional racecar drivers egging everyone to go faster. My brother was driving with one hand on the wheel, and his instructor gave him such a hard time about it that he resolved to always use two hands from then on. On the way home from the course, his car went out of control, the front wheel went sideways and he layed a strip of rubber 175 feet. If he hadn't had both hands on the wheel, he might not have made it. The girl he was racing home to see said she loved him for the first time that night.
Weirdly enough, something similar happened to my dear friend Sena last week - she totaled her truck and ended up with a concussion. My superstitious side keeps saying these things happen in threes - so I hope everyone is careful on the roads.
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Thursday, June 03, 2004
I built a cabin in the woods when I was in college, with my boyfriend at the time. When we broke up, I left, then he left. The cabin is on a friend's farm, which has turned into a hippie community. Various people have lived in the cabin since, from dance teachers to trapeze artists. I've always been welcome to visit, to settle my hand into the handprint I left in the cement footing under the woodstove.
A really fascinating guy lives in the old cabin now. He's dark, wiry, and secretive. One night I overheard some guys talking about him. "He was in the army" one said. "Yeah, I heard he saw some action in South America." "It was during some political uprising that he was down there" the other guy said. "I heard he was a sniper."
Action. Sniper. South America. Based on these facts, my friends and I have decided that K is... an ASSASSIN!
The other night I had trouble falling asleep. Something was rustling in the bushes. Suddenly I imagined K lying on the rug outside my door with a knife in his teeth, ready to spring into action. I fell asleep immediately.
Ever since, ASSASSIN has become a code word of sorts. If a cop pulls someone over on the road, they should be careful because it could be... an ASSASSIN! Or else, you know, you shouldn't do that because an ASSASSIN could be watching you.
Aside from any realistic idea of politics in South America, the Army, or what snipers and "seeing action" really are, I think it's kind of cool that I know... an ASSASSIN!
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A really fascinating guy lives in the old cabin now. He's dark, wiry, and secretive. One night I overheard some guys talking about him. "He was in the army" one said. "Yeah, I heard he saw some action in South America." "It was during some political uprising that he was down there" the other guy said. "I heard he was a sniper."
Action. Sniper. South America. Based on these facts, my friends and I have decided that K is... an ASSASSIN!
The other night I had trouble falling asleep. Something was rustling in the bushes. Suddenly I imagined K lying on the rug outside my door with a knife in his teeth, ready to spring into action. I fell asleep immediately.
Ever since, ASSASSIN has become a code word of sorts. If a cop pulls someone over on the road, they should be careful because it could be... an ASSASSIN! Or else, you know, you shouldn't do that because an ASSASSIN could be watching you.
Aside from any realistic idea of politics in South America, the Army, or what snipers and "seeing action" really are, I think it's kind of cool that I know... an ASSASSIN!
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