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May 5, 2010

My cat is glaring at me like maybe she just saw me burn her food bag and throw her catnip mouse over the roof and give some nice aged Irish cheese to mice. She’s just sitting in the center of the area rug like it was a raft that she’s clinging to for dear life because oh Jesus, that’s a lot of water, glaring at me. I haven’t even done anything. I haven’t even not done anything. These hands are innocent hands.

I know I should write, and I really don’t feel like it. I feel like having some breakfast and planting some seeds. My recent obsession is planting seeds in dirt in pots and seeing if they grow. So far no good, but it’s only been like four days and I am told via the backs of many seed packets to sit quietly and be patient. It’s hard. Even though I know that even the most ambitious of plants won’t start popping up for another two weeks, I check out the window every morning with my first bleary eyed thought on my way to make my coffee. Magic? Magic overnight growth? Oh. Nope. Ok. Coffee.

Yesterday I spent a stupid amount of money on seeds and dirt. Dirt. I bought some. With money, from a store. This confounds me, but there is no getting around the fact that I did it. However, dirt money aside, this whole planting shit process has been a bonafide lovin’ experience for me. Who knew I loved squnching around in dirt up to my elbows so much? Certainly I did not. But the thought of making my own carrots and tomatoes is simply the most tantalizing thing that has happened to me since I realized that sliced bread wasn’t all it was cracked up to be and my flag was planted in the rich, poofy top of a costco poppy seed muffin.

Also I have another interview tomorrow, doing general office crap for a law firm on the Embarcadero, which would rock if for no other reason than that it is directly by the water. I would get to see the water every day, as a side effect of having a job and making money. Score. I don’t really care about law firms, as of yet, but it might be nice to have a lawyer friend somewhere down the twisted road, in case one or all of my many alleged insanities catches up with me some dark and dreadful day involving law enforcement. Nothing like a little legal string pulling, wink wink, to make those nasty parking tickets go away. (I wish. Fervently).

My body is kicking my ass lately. On top of the ritual yoga I’ve been walking all over the damn place seeing stuff and buying seeds and having my purple hair complimented in every part of the city. Yesterday my neighbor Ross and I walked all around the Tenderloin, which is supposedly one of the most sketch places in the city, and it looked and smelled pretty gnarly in certain areas, but really, so does all of SF, as based on my current level of experience. And there is a super cheap discount foods and liquor store in the TenderNob, which is like the merging of the Tenderloin and some portion of Nob Hill, where I bought aged Irish cheese for three dollars and elderberry liqueur from France for two dollars. The cheese was fabulous, we had it on pizza last night with more mushrooms than one would have previously thought possible, back in the day before one was dating Alain, but we had JayPeace over for a wee bit before taking off to go watch Lost and we forgot about the liqueur. However, I am sure that it absolutely kicks ass, and hey, since today is Cinco de Mayo and I have plans to be extraordinarily vibrant and loud in the Mission tonight, maybe it will all work out for the best and the elderberry will be a nice petite piece de resistance de francais in a celebracion grande con las margaritas interminable. And hopefully my legs will stop killing me, so that I can wear amazing shoes. Currently my thighs are involved in the complex and utterly unnecessary project of building muscle, right on the high inside where that little pocket of fat used to be, and they are huge and sore and THAT SUCKS. My thighs touch each other when I walk, is how swollen they are. And where they touch, follows pain and anger. BAH.

~My Fabulous Weekend In Sacramento~

or

~I Am By Horses and Do Not Cry!~

Yes, it flies. Of course it flies.

This is Star. Star is nervous around people he doesn’t know, and so he smiles. Big lip and gum and teeth smiles, big everything is involved here smiles.

Peacock for Holly.

Peacock for Becky.

Peace out, pilgrim.

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