Thursday, March 28

I saw Lisa and AJ last night! For like, twenty minutes, but still. Yay, me! Boo, closed Moroccan restaurant, though.

After work last night, Adam came by and we went out for coffee. The guy at Second Cup gave us free whatevers because Adam went to high school with him. Then we talked about books for a little while before hitting on a million-dollar idea. A musical called I See Dead People... Dancing!. OK, so it was mostly Adam that hit on it. He remembered a lot more of The Sixth Sense than I did. And frankly, he's just plain funnier than I am. Still, I've managed to compose a decent finale number that sounds sort of like a combination of ABBA's Dancing Queen and the Partridge Family's Hello World.


Other exerpts include:

"Stuttering Stanley, stuttering Stanley,
the gals don't think that stuttering's manly..."

"I'm feeling much better now."
"You vomited."
"I know."

Oh dear God. :D

Just so you know, if you steal any of these ideas, you're dead. This is me copyrighting them right now. :)

Posted by hKath at 11:54 AM ()


Tuesday, March 26


Tonight I saw a man
with eyes
like puddles, eager
to be jumped into
and scrambled about.

so like a small boy's fingernails
that I wondered for a minute
whose hand
had become lodged in his mouth

and how had he learned to talk around it?

Imagine his mother inspecting them
for dirt before dinner
then lovingly setting a plate of
meat, potatoes
string beans before him like an offering

He chews carefully
kneading with his tiny fingers
and swallows with a tight fist
while thinking of the sandbox
the feel of the rain
and of the coarse sand
under his teeth.

Posted by hKath at 12:43 AM ()


Well. I feel bad. I feel like I'm neglecting this website in favour of my new livejournal one. Which, I'm sorry to say, is not conducive to the kind of stuff I was sticking up here a couple of months ago. I even stopped updating the cursors. I should go back to the plain one and the question mark one. At least Netscape could handle that.

I've been writing poetry. This is good because I have a portfolio due in less than two weeks. Actually, it's due in about nine days. And I do not want to be stuck putting the crappy Patrick Swayze story in there. I feel faker and faker about that damn short story. I also occasionally feel like a failure on the short story front, especially since my poems seem to strike a chord with so many people.

I have only heard one person's judgement on my story. And frankly, I don't trust this one person's judgement. She seems to think everything is just super, thanks for asking. She's the Big Gay Al of our class.

If I told you the poem I'm about to post (and that you will therefore read before this entry) was about Ewan McGregor, would you think that was cool, or would you think that made the whole poem way cheaper? Or would you think something else?

I guess it doesn't matter, because I just told you.

Of course, if you hate the poem independently of whether or not it's about Ewan McGregor, then you don't have to tell me what you think about Ewan McGregor. You can just tell me that you hate the poem. Really. I won't mind.
Posted by hKath at 12:42 AM ()


Sunday, March 24

This makes me look like I know a little sumthin-sumthin about technology. Funny. I didn't know there was an expression that had the words "cutting off" in it, except where jeans were concerned. This person has confused me.

The person who was looking for scary aliens didn't get what they bargained for, either.

Today is a-ok. I'm wearing my tight New York shirt, one of my favourites. It's Oscar night, and for the first time in three years I'm not working. I think last year at least, we tried to tune the broadcast in on our pathetic store TV. We use a chunk of metal and the VCR wire as antennae. It doesn't work very well.

The year before I was in complete hell and couldn't be bothered to even care about the damn Oscars. American Beauty? You think that's a crisis? Come work at fucking Shoppers Drug Mart, why don't you. I'll show you a fucking crisis.

Oh, the hostility that is suddenly spurting forth! Where did all this come from?

I think I'm hungry. Bring on the, um, what kind of food do we have?
Posted by hKath at 11:44 AM ()