I got my day off.
I woke up at eleven to the phone ringing upstairs. Outside was sunny and cloudy and chilly.
"It was one of those perfect English autumnal days which occur more frequently in memory than in life."
- P. D. James
- P. D. James
She looks at the man and she--and she says,
"Where are we going?" and he looks at her and he says,
"We're going to a party, it--it's a birthday party.
It's your birthday party, happy birthday darling.
We love you very, very, very, very, very, very, very much."
And then, uh, he starts humming this little tune and--and, uh, it kind of goes like this,
I made mac and cheese and a big cup of tea and sat on the couch and read fmylife.com and read a book
that I am in love with.
I made more tea.
My roommate asked me if I had to go to work.
Nope.
Plans?
Nope.
Work ended up calling.
I ignored the call.
Sorry guys.
I work too much as it is.
And to the face of every criminal strapped firmly to a chair
We must stare, we must stare, we must stare.
I made my brother's birthday card. I drew a picture of Portland.
I can't draw.
He'll still like it.
I went to lunch with my best buddy. He said I looked happy.
I ate a rice crispy and a bubbly drink at my favorite restaurant.
The leaves outside are red and orange and yellow.
This city in the fall is perfection.
"The Indian Summer, the dead Summer's soul." - Mary Clemmer
I gave it to the sushi place down the street...so I can work more.
Oh well.
I came home and made another birthday card.
I wonder if I should send it...I miss his handsome face.
While my mother waters plants, my father loads his gun.
He says, "Death will give us back to God,
just like the setting sun
is returned to the lonesome ocean."
I have to walk up to the post box and send them off now.
Today was crisp and clean and wonderful.
I'm happy just because
I found out I am really no one.
Oh, and Bright Eyes rocks my entire world over and over again....
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