Maybe she doesn't want to laugh anymore.

Real, All Too Real

A few things :
I discovered at work today that I can use the adding machine reasonably well with my left hand. And I am not left-handed.

I would like to put all my furniture and some other things too on casters.

I dreamt the night before last that I had gotten a new job as a butcher in a large,circus-freaky, labyrinthine underground restaurant, and though I was quite nervous everyone took a shine to me quickly. I was informed at one point to bring a 'costume' to work the next day for a special assignment. Turns out I was chosen by a famous and celebrated modern dancer to be her partner in her newest piece, which was to debut in the restaurants "theater." I turned all wiggly and panicked because I knew that modern dance is the root of many many bad things and I was not prepared in any way to express my own nor anyone else's Important Feelings in interpretive dance. Turns out all I had to do was "support" her by hopping around like a chicken, with one hand on my head with fingers splayed and the other at my rear also splay-fingered. Geez.

Today is Saturday the 3rd of December...

Well what the hell is going on? I am ambling about, having coffee, tidying up, folding laundry, checking in on Libba occasionally, petting the cat and dog, and counting the minutes til I need to head down to work. We are doing a party for 180 tonite, should be over by 9:00 though, which means time for hanging out, having drinks, hashing out life's mysteries and humilites, and generally fellowshipping. It'll be Linda, Libba, Julie, Judith and me. I feel like I've forgotten someone...probably, I am foggy.
I saw a BMW on fire on the interstate on my way to work yesterday. No one was in it.
Megan lost her cell phone
Linda found hers.
I bought lights sticks at Lowes, they're safe, non-toxic, non-flammable, and last for 12 hours. The package has the words "Homeland Security Disasters Blackouts Emergencies" on it. It also says "In God We Trust." I'm not sure what I've bought into here. I'm not sure how they aid in Homeland Security but I'll roll with it.
Frosty the Snowman was a jolly happy soul and so am I. And as Homer said "God loves you! And He wants to kill you!"
Love, Leemur

Hello Sunnyvale, What's Going On?!

I bled the radiators tonite. They seem better now. I feel good about that.
I feel warmer.
It's good.
Everybody sleep well.
Love, Leemur

is

Rumors of My Demise are Greatly Appreciated, no wait, exaggerated

Yo! I'm here, I never left really, it just seems that way. What with the moving, the campaigning for governor, the submitted then retracted nomination to the Supreme Court (frankly I just wasn't mentally up for it anyway) and generally being poor but happy, I haven't been keeping up with my blog duties. Dooties. Poopy.
Clearly I am half mad.
So many things to catch up on, including pictures, the beach trip, the new house, the kids, the hiking trip, the day to day things that make life bearable and lovely.
Be back soon.
Love, Leemur

home

I am back....tired and achy, but yeah. Lot going on, mostly the the Moving Thing, moving into new home, which is super-awesome. Scoley and Mugsy were our first official guests over tonite, a good time was had I believe, appetising cheese and whatnot eaten, dinner plates eaten clean, wine sipped and appreciated, dessert towered with whipt cream and enjoyed. I tried to send pictures of the new apt to blog today but something never went right, I'll try again later I suppose. That's about all right now, it's late, hopefully I can update tomorrow, and then, God-willing, I'm heading off to my 20th high school reunion in Roanoke on Friday. I still have to find me-self a hotel room so I don't have to sleep in the fold-down back of the Golf. Not that that's the worst place I could sleep... but you know... cheers,good day to all, and good night, good luck, good fishing. --leemur

Giant Slug Welcomes Us To Neighborhood!

Jam

I am having an onion bagel with butter and blueberry "all fruit" jam. This is remarkable only in that I have long derided jam, and jelly, as "Gross". Strangely sweet, texturally suspect, and worst of all, sticky. I hate being sticky. Fear of being sticky has often compromised my promising relationship with honey. Any sort of pastry featuring or hiding jam within it causes me to turn my head in disgust and frankly, a bit of fear. So how did I end up with this perfectly toasted, buttered bagel lightly covered with spreadable 100% all fruit spread stuff lightly sweeted with white grape juice concentrate? I can't really say...I guess I felt like I needed to test myself...and turns out the test wasn't that hard to pass. This time.

I was about to make an entry, but I just got a phone call and I have to leave. It doesn't mean that I'm not thinking about you. Love, Leemur

Ugh Head

Oh gosh, the obsessive humming is back, and back with a vengeance, as they say. It's more uncontrollable than ever and it seems to have joined forces with another part of my brain, the part that's responsible for the catching and keeping a song in one's head, and the song that has been on the loop virtually non-stop most of the week is ...the theme song from The Price Is Right. Holy shit, how could this be possible? I haven't even seen TPIR in many, many years. Damn Bob Barker and his ass-grabbing, animal rights sponsoring ways. What's worse is that I remember clearly that it's a Mark Goodson-Bill Todwin Production. I can hear those words so clearly, those words spoken so often after so many game shows in the 70's. I know what you're thinking, you're thinking that I am basically saying that I hear voices. It's okay, I'm not crazy, I just hear game show theme songs.

bongo

bunnicula

bee gees

big, big butthead

I'm a Great Big Baby

Ugh, I finished watching the last episode of "Six Feet Under" a little bit ago and I have stopped blowing my nose, finally. My God, I'm such a puss, I'm starting to think that there's nothing contrived and sentimental that I won't cry over, especially, but not limited to, anything on broadcast or cable tv. In the episode where Nate died, well forget about it, I'm too embarassed to even say. Man, I can't believe what a shameless pussy I can be...

Who's Afraid of My TV Guide?

I was listening to the radio on my way to the asian grocery store this afternoon when I heard two gentlemen talking about the steady decline of TV Guide. It seems that The People are more inclined now to seek tv listings on the internet because of the variety, searchability, and so forth. One of the two talked about seeing people on the subway "in the old days" with their newspapers folded over to the television section, a highlighter mapping out their week to come. I detected notes of superiority and nasty pity in his voice that indeed rubbed my rankled fur this way and that. Why?! Why, do you ask? Because if I lived in NY and rode the subway, you might see me on your train on Mondays with my Green Section and maybe not highlighter, but at very least a Sharpie, figuring out when I need to be home, when I can tape, and when I can stay out late with no compunctions concerning "Case Files with Dr.Henry Lee."
The Fact of the Matter is that I don't like most tv listings on the net, I don't find them fast, easy, and infinitely searchable, I find them Annoyingly Time-Consuming. I'm all for the net and technology of every sort, but I find comfort and some bit of anticipatory excitement in laying back on the couch and browsing the tv listings in the paper.
So kill me.
I admit, however, that TV Guide used to be... better, somehow. Growing up, I would beg my mother for a subscription, trying vainly to explain what a valuable resource it was, as we were living in a series of tiny hamlets in North Carolina,only to consistently run up against cat-eye-glasses magnifying tired, irritated eyes. So basically, I always lost. The sad irony is that once I was on my own and could afford the paltry cover price I was no longer interested as I felt, even at that point, that TV Guide just wasn't what it use to be, (or literally "wernt wut it usta be").
Ultimately I am saddened now, by the snowballing irrelavancy of the Guide, the memories of the way-too-easy/dumb backpage crossword puzzles, and the bittersweetness, mostly bitter, of my lost youth.
So it goes. I am tiny.

Like a lot of people this morning, I watched for and watched Discovery as she made her way back to earth. I had my fingers crossed and a prayer on my breath. I'm happy she and her people are back safely.

Space shuttle, space shmuttle...

...put those astronauts to work, teaching the less priviledged and otherwise illiterate, to read, open bank accounts, balance checkbooks, find a decent job, care for their neighbor, vote for the candidate of their choice, and give back to the community. Turn that shuttle into an enormous planter, filled with medical marijuana or delicious tomatoes. Turn Cape Canaveral into a giant artspace for all children and stock it full of supplies. I guess that's my dream about that.
photo from
http://www.art180.org/2_about.htm
check it out.