Here goes . . .
i have an amazing guy, a wonderful roommate, a beloved daughter with questionable behaviors but the cutest little vampire face you could ever imagine that totally cracks my shit right up since she lost her four top front teeth, and some adorably cute rodential pets, but i have dug in to a series of books and ignored then for the most part over the last few weeks.
They even live with me and can poke me with sticks!
i have forgotten what my kitchen looks like, not shopped for food, cooked, cleaned, done laundry, or anything else.
i have worked, read and slept. Occasionally, i have stared at the ceiling for minutes at a time, not really seeing anything, but thinking. Thinking of the books.
When i was forced to put the books down to eat or sleep or communicate with anyone, i felt so . . . out of place. i responded like the characters. i would feel like the person i was taking to was very very far away from me.
This is exactly why i don't buy a whole series at once. If it's good enough, i won't come out until they are all done. It has taken me one light buffer book and a week to come down. i miss them. i miss the world i have been in. i want crazy preternatural creatures to come shooting at me! i wanna wear leather and kill stuff with silver! i wanna have special powers and be a necromancer! i WANT MY WERELEOPARDS! GIMME MY VAMPIRES! I WANT THE MINI-UZI!!!!!!!!
and give melissa a moment to compose herself.
ignore the sobbing.}
i have missed this. i have missed having a place to think. to feel. to express my weird views. to reach out. and to let you reach in.
i feel like i needed that mini-vacation from life, though. For some reason, i felt stale and old. i felt like i wasn't 'in the groove' or '- mood' or 'feeling it', whatever. i think i may have reached a point where i was putting out more than what i was putting in. Kind of hollow and empty.
Now i feel better. i have shut down and enjoyed something else, someone else for a while. i am ready to start anew, see things differently and get back into the flow of things.
i have read all of my favorites back a few weeks 'til now and laughed my self silly catching up. i have responded to some and will respond to some more when i think of what to say.
My mom's birthday was a week or two ago and i got her a wildflower seed mat, a tall white plant stand with a cobalt glass bowl and a lot of low white garden fence. On Mother's Day i gave her a really cool watering can for the indoor plants and a card. The card was good for a garden. Not a plant or two, but a REAL garden. i have spent all or part of the last week working on this garden idea. Angel and i have spent a goodly portion of the last two days on our hands and knees pulling the Bermuda grass out of the 4.5 X 16 foot rectangle up against the house in the front yard. We used a garden claw. The little one. The one that is smaller than a breadbox, in fact you could fit many of them in an average breadbox and burn it and the hell-spawned torture devices would still be there long after the cold ashes of the poor breadbox had blown away.
My siblings are always buying her flowers and vases since she likes them. i hate giving cut flowers, they are dying. They cannot last in beauty, and are merely a token gift of a passing sentiment. i have always wanted to give her a good gift, something really thoughtful and tailored to what she likes, so i have been itching to put a garden in that very spot for the longest time. Now, i can.
i have rarely ever given a gift to someone off a list. i go on a quest, a search for something from my heart to theirs, something they would love and use, but may not have picked out them selves. i want to it be special and memorable, not something they will re-wrap and give to someone else or return and buy nail polish.
So, i'm weird. We knew that already, right?
Anyways, time to dig some more holes and plant some more plants!
Catch you later!
confessed on Tuesday, May. 21, 2002