June 9, 2005

• This is definitely a very hideous layout. I'm sick and toying around with cool (huecool palettesense, not like, righteouscols, duuuuude!
  cool) colors half-assedly in bed. It's I've realized the first time in
  history that attention and cold motherhands and Caffeinefree Diet Coke
  slushies haven't brought on a surge of 11:00 p.m. relief, of F. Scott
  Fitzgerald novels to be relished the next absent day from school and
  all. For old truant time's sake I pulled The Last Tycoon from my bookshelf, but all I'm feeling is feverish--what a drag.

  I returned from California just a little over too long ago to blame
  oheverything on jetlag. The Sonoma County weather allowed for Pacific
  Ocean visits, clifftop enchilada consumption (sunbonnetted), and walks
  to the small park in Nick's neighborhood where we waltzed a little
  around sandspurs and greeted a black lab named Pinot and his
  former-all-boys'-school-classmate master, full skirted me and always
  arm-in-arm and grinning. It was wonderful to do House Things, things
  that idyllic/suicide-inducing Holyoke hilltops don't allow and that the
  endless New York urge to dart from Degas to Ethiopian into a cab with
  Chris and Em and then back for coffee or cocktails and so onandonandon
  overlooks--things like him achieving one-quarter-inch thick
  chicken  noisy with the tenderizer while I pan-toast pine nuts for
  the sage pesto we decided not to storebuy, or me curling up in his worn
  plaid pajama pants to watch 700 Club and discuss sleepy over Crispix.
  Evenings we'd each read our respective Faulkners on one overstuffed
  burgundy sofa, scrambling for each other between hodgepodge hors
  d'oeuvre servings, like I was Gloria only without the steel brat
  circumstances and much more soulmatelike, silly, ranch-styled. And not
  I mean to be trite or spiritual or supermarket smut-line-y, but the
  entire time I felt like the breasted, nail painting half of a big
  divine thinking challenging supporting and forever-laughing-hard unit.
  I miss him so!

  I've imposed upon myself a similar sentence to last summer's--I'll be
  working for a local tech company doing documentation for their
  heavily-accessed opensource programs and other technical writing tasks.
  It seems there will be though room for creativity, and coupling this
  with light lovely hours at the museum should result in both
  productivity and satisfaction. How nice and job interview-y, and now
  for a few pictures:

   

  

  

  • 12:02 am
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