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2001-11-25 || 2:37 p.m. || daaaaaaaaaaayquil!!!!! || i have the beautifullest tweeest hanselandgretellest mittens. red knit knobby ones. and i would be wearing them right now because it is very cold in the apartment. but mittens are not the way to go when one has plans to write at least five-thousand words of her novel today. unless one's novel is an experimental dada-ist piece, but alas it is not. so it's very cold. and i have a cold. i am an orange snot-making machine. i woke up and lay in bed with meow (warm bundle with razor teeth. good to cuddle with but you always have to be on your guard. see this? this is where she put a hole through my arm. vampire cat three hole punch. ow.) and was craving the ever-loving grape soda like the dickens so i put on the sailor pants (three days in a row!) and the lucky orange sweater (pay attention to the orange! it gets significant! watch!) and drove on over to the drug store. where i proceeded to buy, while wearing my orange sweater mind you, are you listening? i proceeded to buy: orange soda (no grape! travesty in aisle four, hello!), dayquil (it's oraaaange!), and orangesque hair dye. i walked around all-oranged out, sniffling and shuffling my feet up and down the aisles because cold medicine commercials have trained me to do so (red nose bedhead sniffling sneezing smiling dopy smiles at the kindly neighborhood pharmacist) and i thought the running orange theme was funny as hell. and i think it's a gatdamn laugh riot now that i have taken the recommended two tablespoons of the dayquil. i am orange inside and out. (hello? please send help to apartment 20. we don't usually allow dayquil in this body, as the cold medicines tend to 'fuck our shit up,' as the kids say. jitter jitter shake shake. hallucinations, anyone? ants runnin marathons in the bloodstream? carpet cracklin as we run down the hallway? please don't leave us alone. we're liable to jump out the window, helen hunt-like, like in that afterschool special about the pcp? oh dear. please, the idea was we would harness the speedy side effects and delusional ideas for the novel writing. this is an experiment of sorts. instead of speed or real live adventures or hmm. coffee and good things to write about. yes, jenny. just stay seated. no sharp objects, no phone calls (we're talking too fast to be comprehended any way), no open windows, no heavy machinery. stay right here you're doing great yeah that was a good one about all the orange okay.) guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |