Leslie Alexander

enough sleep
2005-03-12— Posted by: allegra

It’s 6:37 in the morning and all the sane people (comparitively speaking) are still asleep. Paul actually slept last night, which is interesting considering that he went to a semi-wake last night for a fallen aviation comrade. Paul was of two minds to go but I convinced him that he should; the aviation community is an interesting bunch and he’s there just as much to support the guys who are unhappy that a long time member of the Boundary Bay community died while flying as to hoist a few in his memory. So he went, and he’s not sorry he did. He tried to convince me to go back to sleep but my head is buzzing like a recently whacked beehive, and there are other things militating against sleep.

John’s boss, may be he praised, grabbed the wheel from Shales for John and John is now going to be able to reassemble the Beemer and grab some of this weather from a two wheeled vantage point.

This week my boss and I stood and watched in awestruck horror as the deciduous tree across the driveway released onto the gentle breeze a cloud of pollen SO THICK that it looked like fog. As far as I can recollect that was the only time this week my boss paused to do something that wasn’t work related.

Pic is an artist’s conception of a black hole – or more properly, the accretion disk – from Astronomy Pic of the Day, of course. Paul just got up and somewhat grumpily requested my attendance for hugs. Since I can’t find a news item I want to comment on, and don’t feel that my laundry list of things to do, physical ailments and ranting about the things I’m exercised about right now would be entertaining, I should slurp back the last of that cold tea and oblige him.

enough sleep
2005-03-12— Posted by: allegra

I’m listening to a Leslie Alexander album. She has a great voice, and I’m regretfully skipping that next thought and going on to something more cheerful. Liked Waiting for the Sun and Bad Girl. Album is called Bird in the House and came out in 1995.

Next up, be still o be still my heart filled up with joy, I get to go see Jerome tomorrow (after the dreaded get groceries shop), who hasn’t appeared before me since the day Mike got the hot tub operational last fall.

Sigh. He’s such a nice young man. Haven’t met his new squeeze but I am waiting with bated breath to be impressed out my socks; he always picks such ugly, uncomely, stupid women …. joking okay~~!? The last one was a complete stunner on four different levels; so scary smart that I felt like a 3 toed moron in 2D in front of her. My lawyer screeched and gripped my chair as if having a seizure upon seeing the next sentence, so I took pity on the crazy old bat and hit the backspace key. Some of my best interests are prurient, I will say that.

Anyway, my interest in Jerome is that of the thoroughly bizarre but occasionally useful oldest sister. I stand in sibling relationship to Jerome, and actually dragged him in front of my mother, calling upon one of the gods for a witness, and told her that I had adopted him and that I was not placing her in that relationship, merely advising her. It was a very beautiful moment in my life, which I contemplate in remembrance with peace.

Anyway I get to see him, and if my luck is extra-crispy, I’ll see his roomie Cam as well. Oh, crunchy goodness of it all. Pretty soon there will be nan bread. Wonder if I can tease Keith into doing the work. Frankly, I think it’s about my turn. I’m the only person in the ****ing house who actually rolls the dough out thin enough. It’s not really food construction as much as an outpouring of bilious energy onto a non-sentient and almost inanimate object. You can beat the hell out of the stuff, and instead of complaining it magically turns into food, most wond(e)rous and strange.

Katie just finished flinging herself around the living room while doing an interpretive dance about young love. It involved touching her hair… a lot. Fun to watch if you like that kind of thing.

I can’t say I was much help. I told her, Give him a deadline in your own mind. Tell yourself he’s got six months, or some other arbitrary length of time, and if he hasn’t smartened up, tell him you’re dating other people.

The timer on the dough just went off as I finished that sentence, how apt, lor. If you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment with the most complaisant of my acquaintances.

Work today was amazing. On about four levels. Oh, shut up and make snackiepoos.