The silk from the cottonwood tree
hangs still in midair
like peachfuzz in a dish
of lemon Jell-o.
I could eat this day.
In the cool dark houses
the plates sit piled and ready
while in the waning afternoon hours
the people rush home for their dinners
broiling single-file on the sidewalk
their eyes following the passing cars
for all the world
like rotisserie chickens on display.
And in every garden the wilting flowers
collapse into heaps of colour
like exotic salads on the brink of spoilage.
Every road sign immaculately lettered
like a menu showcasing the day's possibilities
I am lured from my home
like a child with a craving
for a dish she's never sampled before.
Posted by hKath at 2:52 PM ()
Ugh. Was up till five AM this morning. This time it was my own fault. My stomach absolutely revolted against all the crap I put into it yesterday. So I found myself watching hours and hours of infomercials, followed by half of Martha Stuart Living.
Luckily I didn't puke, or it would've been a really bad night.
You know what's funny about feeling sick or having something hurt? A lot of the time, you can't remember how much something hurt after the fact. That, to me, means that pain is irrelevent.
So, this guy Dave from work told me that he has a friend whose book is being published in softcover next year. I nodded nicely. Then he mentioned that the guy is being sent on a book tour to promote the book and do signings.
My reaction: utter shock.
Who would have thought that the word "tour" would ever have anything to do with anything I did ever again? It is now my ultimate goal to go on a book tour.
Posted by hKath at 2:49 PM ()
Thursday, August 8
I'm so tired at this point that everything's funny. I'm having so much fun, I don't want to sleep!! I just want to watch lame movies and make fun of them aloud. By myself. I was just watching Firestarter and substituting everything the father says by "These aren't the droids you're looking for."
You should try it.
Earlier today I found my inner Dave-doing-a-four-year-old's-voice voice as I cried out "Mommy, what's that man doing to Frodo?" loudly in the store.
I used to think it felt great to crack other people up. But now I know that it's much more fun to crack myself up.
My tattoo is almost totally healed, except for the lowermost petal of the lotus which is taking its sweet time. This is, of course, because it has not experience the sweet lovin' of my touch. It has, instead, spend the last few days being massaged by a curvy plastic bottle end.
Hey, it was the only way I could figure out to get any kind of cream there.
Actually, it worked very well.
So like, earlier, before Drew Barrymore's dad started peddling Droids or whatever, Ali McGraw was dying, and you know what?
Every time I see that movie it's the same!
(That last line was for Fiona's benefit ;)
What I mean is, I always miss where she finds out she's dying. And I miss her actually dying, and by the time I tune back into the movie it's zooming out and Ryan O'Neal becomes like this little mourning dot in the snow and then it's over and it's like "Why're you so sad? She was only dying for like a microsecond. I blinked and missed it for crying out loud!"
Posted by hKath at 12:53 AM ()
Tuesday, August 6
Finally! The "site" I've been waiting for!
Ugh. I hate Lord Of The Rings. I slept till one thirty this afternoon, and I have to get up at six-thirty in the morning tomorrow. How's that going to work? My only consolation is that Brian, Dave and I refused to do any extra work last night (in fact, we spent the hours leading up to midnight eating pizza and watching Monty Python and the Holy Grail) and that we left a pile of junk for Chris to do today.
Wanna know something funny? I had to call my phone just recently to figure out where it was. And even though I was expecting it to ring, the sound of it ringing still filled me with dread. That's a sign of one too many middle-of-the-night calls from alarm companies and pleading, whining calls from work.
I spent a lot of time last night after I got home from the freakin "extravaganza" researching different tattoo-healing methods and stories, trying to will mine to heal faster. There is much contradiction out there! I guess you just do whatever and actually what works is the power of your will.
What worries me is that the tattoo still looks pretty. It has to stop looking pretty for a while, while it sheds its little skin. Then it can look pretty again. Come on, unprettiness!
What also worries me is that I can't reach the damn thing. Well, I can reach part of it. But the bottom of it is clearly out of my reach. I have been nearly pulling my shoulders out of my sockets to put on a little moisturizer. Then I stopped to think and realized that THERE IS NO OTHER SPOT ON YOUR BODY WHICH IS THIS HARD TO REACH. That's it. One spot. And I get it tattooed ;)
But... pretty... :D
Posted by hKath at 1:53 PM ()
Sunday, August 4
I don't know what's weirder. The fact that Mike Ford is apparently playing a concert, the fact that it's in 4 months, or the fact that it's on MC's birthday. Oh, the things you can find out by frequenting FHDC.
Posted by hKath at 1:17 PM ()
Well, I'm quite tattooed at the moment. It took pretty much all of yesterday to finally get in to have it done. I waited around for my appointment and then I waited around after it was supposed to have started because my dude was running late. I went in around 6:40 and got finished around 7:30. Originally, they had said two hours, but Rob the tattoo guy said that he tries to go very fast, because he hates being tattooed himself.
I guess the pain tolerance is different between a girl and a boy. I mean, clinically I know that, but here's the proof, because since I was expecting it to take two hours, I was surprised and a little disappointed when he announced he was done.
So now I have a pretty lotus on me. He did an awesome job. I've never had a regular hairdresser, or chiropractor, or any other kind of repeat-activity person. But now I have a tattoo artist.
Posted by hKath at 10:14 AM ()