my eyelids heavy
my heart full

Sleepless.

I can't sleep. I keep listening to my show.
I get like this when I make something new. I can't put it down. I can't stop staring. I can't stop listening.
I am glad that new mothers are allowed to hold their children all the time.

I will hate myself in three hours when I am supposed to wake up.
I don't have my scripts for tomorrow.

It's the end of reading week, and I haven't noticed its passing. Class is a small part of my life. The essays are looming, however.

There's a burn on my hand. An angry looking reddish brown bite, between my thumb and finger. I was roasting vegetables for a sauce at home, and I touched the element inside the oven.

There's a burn on my heart. On the place where I've ceased to listen.

buttereggsmeat.



I'm sitting in the cafe. I am busily contemplating my life.
What am I going to be when I grow up guys? I dream of being a wanderer. A life-barista. A Preacher. A youth worker. A musician.

I guess the open options blow my mind. It's strange that after years of post secondary, I really haven't specialized (or pigeon-holed myself) in to much of anything. The only specialized skill set I have relates to espresso, and even that skill set isn't all that special yet. Pulling shots is not rocket science. It just requires care.

I've taken a few days off this week. It's done me some good.

And while she's straightening her stockings, her hair has gotten wet.

I'm sitting at Dahn's place. We're both on laptops.
I am cutting a class I really should be at.
At the moment I sincerely dislike school. Everybody says it's just the third year itch, and that I should do what I desperately want to do. Scratch.
That is to say, drop out.

I'm doing everything in excess. I hate it a little. I'm tired a lot.

In other news, I'm falling for someone.
It is unexpected
and lovely.

quiet house. noisy head.



Thinking about stuff.
I'm cleaning my place, which looks like it was hit by a beer-bottle, cigarette, pizza-box tornado. (Note to self, an "anti-New Years gathering" is STILL a party...)

I'm tired. I'm hoping to restore a modicum of order to the space and then maybe crash for a couple of hours before tonight's hot date. I hope it's great. I'm supposed to be making the plans, but I'm at a bit of a loss for ideas... I mean, is dinner and a movie TOO cliche to even think about attempting?
Seriously, romantic planning is not my forte. I just want to buy flowers and drink smoothies.

Maybe I could cook dinner and make romantic smoothies?
Smoothies made of flowers?
I need a manual.

Dudes?
WHERE IS MY MANUAL!?

green with.

I'm sitting at my computer, debating on whether I should go out or stay here and sleep. If I go out I shop. If I stay here I sleep.

I could stand to do both. I got a bit of Christmas money that I could quite practically spend on food and clothing, maybe a new book. Mmmm. Food.

Who am I kidding, I did little other than eat between the twenty fourth and the twenty eighth, I'm looking forward to eating a little normal food. Like a roti and a cappuccino maybe.

Oh cappuccino. If I go to work I imagine that I'll see Steve looking like a marooned sailor who just saw his lifeboat. Maybe this is self-aggrandising, but the poor guy has worked three days of doubles. I owe him one.

Dahn and Jesse are off to Toronto to visit Z/s. I am working. Tant pis.

On the other hand my brother got me a big black apron for Christmas, which has my name stitched into it, and the words "Queen Barista" stitched in beneath that. It's pretty cute. I'm looking forward to wearing this lovely apron to work tonight.

It's decided. I'm going out. I think I only feel tired because I fell asleep in my chair last night. Chair does not equal Bed. But I should be okay to seize the day here.
Much loves.

out of town

this is a quick post.

My cousins are everywhere. It's one in the morning. No one is going to bed. I've had too much wine and too many cigarettes.

I love my family. They are so much. So much.

I am typing on my (brand new!) laptop. My computer whiz uncle got it set up for me. The screen is the size of Missouri.

My cousins are making various flash animations of stick people getting violently maimed. My parents, aunts and uncles and my sister are drinking in the kitchen. My brother is playing guitar hero with another cousin.

I will post more later. I will.
Strangely, I miss you.