But the final molar,
A tooth of wisdom,
Has finally broken itself all the way through.
Weird!
It's the only one left.
Curb Girl: what an urban-based accidental journalist accidentally thinks when she's falling face-first on figurative pavement
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Half-birthday
Now that I'm all used to winter and find it funny that I ever cared that my feet (as now) become blue-white and numbed by the computer-desk-circulation-destruction program we call "doing our job," I want it to snow more. The big piles laying around everywhere still — for over a fortnight, amazing — make my part of the Midwest feel like someplace else.
I'm not just looking for excuses to stay indoors, either.
I think, so this is what Minnesotans have every year, for an extended period … how do people keep up with six months of such encumbrances to mobility in the Dakotas? If I squint my eyes a little, I can even pretend it's a white-sand beach out there.
Making two eggs, chocolate (French style — like for Undine Spragg, only not delivered in bed on a tray with the letters and a single flower in a small vase) and toast … and eating it … wore me out.
At some point, perhaps 4 a.m., a little while before I was able to go to sleep, I noticed that the rooftops were all brown and grey and boring again. No more reflective shimmer. Being wide-eyed at all hours does not really produce startling revelations.
I acquired some luggage that is modern, TSA-useful and giraffe-patterned, and so, visit-ables, I'm making progress. I have no idea if I will get on any planes, but at least I'm not pro-procrastinating this part any more. There's a pile of boxes here … this place always looks like we just moved in. Things come, things go. The luggage box is still unopened.
I'm not just looking for excuses to stay indoors, either.
I think, so this is what Minnesotans have every year, for an extended period … how do people keep up with six months of such encumbrances to mobility in the Dakotas? If I squint my eyes a little, I can even pretend it's a white-sand beach out there.
Making two eggs, chocolate (French style — like for Undine Spragg, only not delivered in bed on a tray with the letters and a single flower in a small vase) and toast … and eating it … wore me out.
At some point, perhaps 4 a.m., a little while before I was able to go to sleep, I noticed that the rooftops were all brown and grey and boring again. No more reflective shimmer. Being wide-eyed at all hours does not really produce startling revelations.
I acquired some luggage that is modern, TSA-useful and giraffe-patterned, and so, visit-ables, I'm making progress. I have no idea if I will get on any planes, but at least I'm not pro-procrastinating this part any more. There's a pile of boxes here … this place always looks like we just moved in. Things come, things go. The luggage box is still unopened.
Monday, January 04, 2010
Sparse as they may be
These laurels of mine are awfully fluffy. I'm content, comfortable, bored but unmotivated to change anything. Oh, it was sunny today, but it's been under freezing for days, with no real change in sight. Pipes are angry again.
The new year brought nothing new, only more snow. It's hard to stay interested in things that are not rewarding. A personal indoor pool would be good right about now.
Hibernation mode is dull. Brain does not have power to overcome. Furnace seems to be freaking out. Makes me freak out. Lovely. Winter is stupid.
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