it's raining. i do not like the rain. it makes me think of open windows and lonely mornings downtown.

proper kung fuin

happy hour with my coworkers is the best part of my week.

here is our office mascot, T-Rex, workin on his ninjy choppin with his nunchucks and ninjy star as part of diemon dave's ninjy school.

this is bat country

maybe its just the drugs kicking in, but i have felt really good for the last several days. almost too good. but then, maybe this is what you cats feel all the time? if so, i should have taken the blue pill years ago.

that said, i'd be lying if i didn't expect the bottom to drop out.

today at work we had a paddle ball championship. everyone else could only hit three or four consecutive times. then i walked up to bat (paddle?). and you better believe i hit it seven. eight. nine times. i was heading for that magical ten when (come on. you know where this is headed) i hit myself dead in the eye. that's immediate disqualification right there. and a serious pain in the cornea. if there was a championship at failing, i would be king.

the special on the b.county monster was kind of a bust. i talked it up so much that when we finally watched it, it was a total let down. they didn't determine anything. oh well. i still believe. and to make up for it, Z showed me this and i think it made my whole week better. he's the best thing to come out of boone county since jesco white (the dancing outlaw). Judy Chop!

also, because this day wasnt magical enough, i got hit on by a scraggly creeper at least twice my age in the doctor's waiting room. in 2 minutes he told me his whole life story (divorced, in therapy to help him learn to meet nice pretty young girls to spend his life with) and tried to pick me up. i'm sure i can muster up some flattery somewhere, but all i could think was i'm pretty sure he's old enough to be my parent. and there are just some boundaries homie wont cross. not to mention the lack of teeth. shiver.

but honestly. good day. really good day. the kind i want to keep in my pocket so when i have a bad one i can pull this one out and rub it for good luck.

much love and starlight.

just photos

i dont have anything of interest to write today, so you get photos. work was rough and my brain was fried. luckily we got to paint our pots tonight. the photos are before they are glazed and fired, so when finished the colors will be more vibrant, the grey clay will be white, and it will all be shiny. i know that the style of painting i did is totally a third grade cop out, but i just think its pretty. and i did carve one piece, so i felt that was enough.

why no, i haven't been in bed since i got home even though the sun is out, why do you ask? i have this weird nagging feeling all afternoon that i can not shake. its driving me nuts bc i felt good earlier. i felt darn near great for me. i dont know. maybe i'm crazy.

lameness aside, watch the History Channel on weds at 9 and see a special about the B. County Monster. having grown up there, i think the whole blurb is garbage, so i'm interested in seeing how white trash inbred they make us look.


also. i like when people look me in the eyes. i think it's harder for people to lie when you have to look someone in the eyes. i only have people in my life now who will always look me in the eyes. this is why i can sleep on their couch.

half asleep

i am only partially ashamed that i spent seven (count em, SEVEN) hours of my day yesterday watching a Locked Up marathon. i am slightly more ashamed that i fell asleep on a stranger's (well, not a stranger, lets qualifiy it as a 'new person') couch during this extended viewing of the federal penitentiary system. the point of this post comes in two parts.

1. somehow i can find good in even the most vile humans. sure half of them were probably lying about how they were turning their lives around and going to be better parts of the community when statistically over 70% of them would be back in lock up in less than a year. But i genuinely hoped for them that they would be good people and go do good things and have a great life. even though over half of them were murderers. i seem to champion the worst people on this planet. bc i think everyone needs a second chance. but then i feel bad for the people who do good every day of their lives and are overlooked. they need heroes too.

2. while i felt terrible for falling asleep and being a horribly rude guest, i tried to explain myself, how that is such a novel experience seeing as i DO NOT SLEEP, that it should be taken as a compliment that i was that comfortable with them to pass out. and it got me thinkig that at one time or another i've fallen asleep on the couches of over half my readership on here. in fact most of you probably think i'm a class A bum what with the amount i have snoozed in your presence. but me being able to do that is equal to.... hell, i dont know, pledging allegiance to you and your next three generations because i trust you enough to be unconscious around you. THIS IS A BIG DEAL. sleep on couch=love i may have to continue hanging out so i can get some real, unmedicated rest.

and i cant speak enough about how wonderful the sunshine is. i really am a better person when the sun is out. i'm going to take my evil dog when i get home and enjoy the rest of the day.

my office smells of eucalyptus and vanilla cupcakes. and today, i genuinely feel good.

"i know i am the wanderer of the ways of all the worlds, to whom the sunshine and the rain are one. " -c.brennan

that sounds about right.

title

sorry for dropping off the face of the earth. strange things are afoot at the Circle K. (thats a nice movie-referency way to say things around here have been happening and i dont know what all it means, homie). good thoughts. good thoughts, hoggle.

hows this for a crazy dream. i just woke up from a dream where everyone at work, myself included, were taken hostage by terrorists bc we were all working in DC for some reason. and it's hard to describe how realistic it was without putting you in my crazy brain. we were first locked up in a room with blue carpet but the second night they locked us up on a strange room with concrete floors and no one could sleep because it was so cold. and one guy from our group was being super nice and offered to mop if they didnt kill him and i remember thinking he was a total effing sellout. and at one point i saw the guards outside so i kept flipping them off and then realized that cultural fuck-you might not translate. and then as in any good movie we befriended one kid terrorist who snuck us in orange cupcakes. and then of course the boss got mad and put a gun to my head and said if i ate the cupcake he'd shoot me. and i told him he could go fuck himself and took a bite. and then i woke up.

double you tee eff does that dream mean, kids.

in other news i decided to go ahead and take down my christmas lights bc i'm feeling a little white trashy up in here.

i also wish you could have witnessed my friday evening purely for the comedic factor. it started with the mother of all panic attacks and ended because of some delicious blue shots. note to future generations: do not take the blue shots no matter how delicious they are. and they are DELICIOUS.

the sun is shining and it makes me feel like eight tenths of a real person. i'm gonna go locate me a cupcake, flip someone off, and have a delicious day.