Beautiful sundown

I sang to the setting sun – it was amazing, what with the drums and the dancers and clapping and calling.  Katie and Mike and I had a simply magical time, and then Mike drove my car to Vera’s on Main for a burger (I was feeling too exhausted and hungry to drive – but I made the stairs with only one very short pause! – and o was that burger tasty!), and then I drove Mike back to his car and Katie home.

A beautiful woman in a bikini danced the hula while accompanied by drums and oboe in the light of the setting sun.

I am a little scorched today.

There were popo on the beach but they didn’t hassle us and they didn’t clear the beach at sunset with dogs and tasers as they have been known to do.  We did have to be told to pack up though.  I bought harem pants for me and Katie for a laugh.

That thousand yard stare

It’s too bad things are so atrocious at work right now.  I can’t talk about it for obvious reasons, but the sphincter readings are rising – explosively.

Missed a party on Saturday night because I was curled up in a fetal ball, and Just Barely dragged myself through the church service on Sunday.  Saying goodbye to Rev Katie just about finished me; I cried on and off for the whole service although I thankfully did not while reciting my portion of the ritual of farewell. 

Life sucks.  If it wasn’t for Jeff being such a congenial fellow I’d be melting down right now.

The cross o’ Christ about us!

My dear sweet ersatz former son-in-common-law “would be grateful if I removed mention of his full name in connection with domestic violence from my blog as it is impacting his job search.”

It is a matter of public record that he assaulted Katie.  I fail to see why I should take it down because his having nearly put my daughter in hospital for her eighteenth birthday is now actually affecting him in a way the justice system never could.

I will think about it though.

Stolen car

Last night I’m wandering out to my car at quitting time and one of my coworkers is standing in the middle of the parking lot on her cell phone, reporting her 1983 Rustbucket Landyacht stolen to the cops.  It was parked RIGHT NEXT to Ziva.  I commiserated with her and drove her home, which made me a titch late for the coordinating council meeting for church.  I also picked her up this morning because, duh, no car. 

Anyway, we’ve been having a lively and spirited discussion on a wide variety of subjects, and I hadn’t really had the opportunity to talk to her previously, so it’s kinda cool.

a few comments

From treehugger to treemugger in 15 years.  I was never allergic to cottonwoods until this year.  Now my eyes are a punched out advertisement for Gummy Residue, my brain feels too large for my skull and my nose feels all wrong.

Does any Michael’s, anywhere, ever have enough fucking checkout staff?  I never want to darken the door of that establishment ever again.

I saw agricultural workers wearing coolie hats today.

I finally saw a police speed trap that was set up in an appropriate place as far as public safety goes.  That’s like 1 for 10.

Thank God the Canucks won, this town would be a nightmare otherwise.  I still think they’re going to lose it in seven, but that’s because the officiating has sucked dog’s balls.

Ziva is a one eyed jack today.  Paul noticed. I’m going to try to fix it myself.

It’s summer!   The Headwater memorial awning is up.

I bought embroidery floss today for something to do when I’m watching TV.

A plaintive plea

Please, imaginary friends, get OUT OF MY HEAD.  My most recent fanfic style scene has a water demon (Pegaiai, Peg for short)  climbing out of a toilet to get close to the boy she fancies.  Hot chicks climbing out of toilets is the opposite of sextyime.  Especially when you’ve just finished using the toilet for one of its intended purposes.

Griff makes a great recovery though.  He offers her a spare toothbrush and a shower.    Griff, so’s you know, is a great big horndog.