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2004-12-28 || 12:17 p.m. || purgatory || lucy the dog, my dad's number one lady where our four-legged friends are concerned, attacked the elderly dalmation down the street last night. mum had to pull her tail and yank her from the death lock on the dalmation's neck. by the time we got home several hours had passed and you could still feel it in the room: the shame and disappointment. the pouting and shaking bowed heads. i hadn't felt anything like it since 1989 when i was failing all my junior high classes. we were supposed to be on the road right now making our northerly ascent to home. my childhood/my father's childhood desk was to be packed up in lois the truck, we were to be listening to disk two of the grateful dead box set kell got for christmas, i was to be dozing somewhere around bellflower until kell hit me on the arm to wake me up and talk to her. it's raining, though. snow is forecasted on the grapevine. we're watching the television in our pajamas, cataloguing who might be in thailand right now. kell has the sniffles and mum's willing to fill us with pierogis, standing there in the kitchen with one hand on hip, one hand holding a spatula, explaining what we should serve at our new year's party and that a taco bar really is the most intelligent option. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |