trying something

Her red coat dashed out the front door. "Wait! You forgot your... no, you didn't. Have a good day! You'll do great!" The car rolled off the driveway and changed its mind. "You're going to be late. Did you forget something?" She gave her an almost forgotten kiss and fell back into the driver's seat. "Are we really those people now? Like out of a movie or a bad story?" She smiled. The car revved the engine and tried to leave again, successfully this time. The house is so lonely and so completely mine.

I know this is brief. I just wanted to do a quick experiment (that I now think I'm going to explore). Have a great weekend, everyone!

evening rituals

a little oil in the bath
to ease today's tension
rub away the knots
the aches
stress
something from the cupboard
a treat to celebrate
or congratulate
appreciate
another day completed
a movie and a kitten
the final decent
into a well-deserved rest

I'm trying to be better about taking time for myself. Perhaps not daily, but I have been running on full throttle and need and want to slow down as the weather gets nicer (read warmer). So this bit of writing serves as encouragement and a reminder for me.

nice cans

A walks in to B stabbing the hell out of a can of something.

A

what the hell are you doing?

B

the can opener broke.

A

you're going to stab yourself. stop! we can go get another can opener.

B

i need it now.

A

for...

B

for this. B shows A the can.

A

that is the most disgusting thing i've ever seen.

B

i know. that's why i bought it. that's why i have to get in to it right now.

A

why?

B

because does it really look like the picture? is that what's really in here? i have to know. also, it's canned. can there be that much demand? where do they package this stuff? oh, nebraska. that makes sense. how many pigs do you think they go through a day?

A

why didn't you just Google it?

B

this is real. right here. me, the pairing knife, and this can. this fucking can that i can't get open. help me. you know you want to see this.

A

i've got something. i'll be right back. A exits then reenters with one of those can cut through anything infomercial gadgets. here.

B

where did you get this?

A

...QVC.

B

QVC? i thought you quit. for chrissake's, you're in a twelve step program.

A

it was one thing. i had a little freak out. it was nearly a year ago. and it's a good thing too, because otherwise you couldn't get that can open.

B

you sure there aren't hundreds of knickknacks hidden around this place? because you know i have to go look now.

A

i'm sure. it was just that one time. promise.

B

okay. give me those.

A

they cut through cans. they showed it on t.v.

B

B sighs a sigh that says "you are not helping your cause" and then gets the can opened. oh. that is just gross.

A

let me see. oh god. i ... think i'm going to be sick, but

A&B

i want to try it.

B

i'll get the pan.

Today's story was inspired by this:

Apologies to the folks out there that like pork brains in milk gravy. I'm a vegetarian, so this... isn't on the menu for me.

cyberspace is flat & i've fallen off the edge

could you please put the computer down for at least five minutes? maybe ten and pay attention to me? please.

just a second. i'm almost done.

right. you're always almost done. it's the internet! there is no "done".

seriously, i have almost reached the end of Twitter. look! see, i'm on page... well there are no pages, but i've been clicking the damn thing for nearly 5 days straight at 3 clicks every 2 minutes. there is no way it can go on much longer.

and then you'll have to catch up with the new stuff that was added.

no. i'm actually annoyed with the thing now. i can't wait to get to the end so i never have to check the site again.

just give it up now.

no.

what would change, what would be missing if you didn't finish it?

i can't stop. it's just... no. not possible. it's making me tense just thinking about it.

you can do it. just take your hand off the mouse, sit up straight, blink and look around the room.

i'm almost there.

no, you're not. you need to walk away.

i swear, just 30 minutes more. maybe an hour. i'm almost there. i'm really really really close.

you need to eat something. you need to sleep. you really need to take a shower. change clothes? wouldn't it be nice to stand up for a couple of minutes? the sun is still shining. you could go outside and play with the dog.

i have a dog?

no, not a real one. but you think i'm talking to you, and i'm your cat. so please, for both our sakes, walk away from this stupid task, clean yourself up, and give me some belly rubs!

i...

i'm a talking cat. a talking. cat.

she starts to stand up but looks back at the screen and sits back down.

if i'm not done in 39 minutes, you are allowed to attack me.

i'm going to go piss on your furniture. have a good night.

My cat hates my computer. If I ever try to read all of Twitter, she has every right to take out my furniture in whatever way she sees fit. It would be for my own good.

the way to wonderland - post seven

out in the yard, her long legs stepped over the gate meant for children and dogs and made their way into the depths of the garden. she needed roots and herbs. mama cat stretched awake in the sun and looked at her for instructions. go see what’s coming. a quick sniff into the eastern then the western air and she headed off in the latter direction. the long lady watched the patchwork fur slink out of sight. a dog would have merely run headlong into whatever it was. that’s why children were always the dogs’ assignment. she turned back to her work, stretched out her fingers, and dug deep into the soft garden earth. maneuvering her fingers through the dirt, twisting and pushing and angling her arms, she buried herself up to the shoulder. she began looking. the fingers and nails moved now in a spiral. the labor was unnervingly slow and her muscles began to ache within minutes. the mind must be calm. she silenced her thoughts and pushed her conscience self into the very ends of her fingertips.

bit by bit, the earth shifted out of her way. she clawed her path, picking out grubs, slicing worms in two, and scratching away decay. there. the soil was looser at her left hand now. a few steps further and there would be a root. a minute or so more and the real work could begin.

Look at that. I had time to do some work on Wonderland this past weekend. Posts I, II, III, IV, V, & VI

a little bit of something

once the sun rises, there is no turning back. you have to leave behind the creativity and hallucinations of night. you will not be protected. it is okay if you are afraid. it is not okay for you to stop. stopping equals death. even bad decisions are preferable to stasis. this journey will not and cannot let up. the end is your end. only you can choose when to stop.

I wanted to write something in prose. It's a small piece that fits somewhere in something (specificity!).

HAPPY 97TH POST!

the cat hates the computer
especially now that it gets
INTERNET!!!!!!!1!!!!!!!!!!
it has taken her lap space
her petting time
her constant adoration
chewing the cords to shreds
only gets punishment and
new cords (is there an endless supply of these things?!)
sitting on top doesn't work
she hasn't quite figured out
how to pin the human
for now she will use the deadly weapon
ANNOYANCE!!!!11!!!!!!1!!!
the kitchen counters are hers to roam
the door frames, hers to scratch
the ipod ear buds will not last long
the paper will soon be confetti
poos will reek through the house
human yelling and threatening postures
will only delay the inevitable
household domination
you cannot stop the cat

Happy 97 posts of reading (it's a long boring story about why I'm not celebrating 100 posts, but just believe that I'm... eccentric). I hope you are enjoying your time here. If not, I still hope you keep coming back. Cheers!