Wednesday, February 18

My sleeping heart woke, and my waking heart spoke

Hm. There was a lovely little "f" in my bowl of honey-mustard pretzels tonight, and earlier at work after i'd clipped a handful of sunflowers, i noticed that two of the stems had rolled into the perfect shape of a capital T! It was awesome, especially since Ted from inside the grocery store was outside visiting me on his break at the time. "T" for Teddy.

Busy here tonight checking student papers for plagiarism. This time it's Voltaire's Candide, which of course makes my mind rush all over the random associations therein, like Cabaret Voltaire (a band which a cute boy i once knew adored) and yeast infections (candida, ick). Very exciting. ::yawn::

Sometimes i think i have a touch of that Super-memory business. Feels like i can never forget people, places, colors, temperatures, smells, moments. i am constantly re-living memories in my head, which makes living in the moment very taxing. Seems like i can never catch up to myself, or something. More on this later.

For now, here's the best scene from Teen Witch! Enjoy.

p.s.) Resuscitated most of my dead links over there on the right, in case anyone was having any problems... i love how flattering it is to think that anyone is actually here, ever. Remarkable!

2 comments:

RunBarbara said...

holy crap, we are the SAME person. my boyfriend and i sing that teen witch song all the time to each other.
here is the thing about san diego:
yes, its more accepting BUT the level of stupidity never did cease to amaze me. i lived there my entire life, i know that city inside and out, and from my new, lofty view up north i can see it for what it really is. i dont hate it, i love it, but like a mongoloid cousin, i think it should be kept in a basement. its just a a really difficult place to live, yknow? at least up here people have a higher sense of whats right, even if it is homogenized. i mean, come on! have you TRIED taking public trans in san diego? its non-existent. have you viewed the sorority filth of the gaslamp on the arms of their beefy military mens? gag.
i still get called a goth, too (i was tickled to see a cabaret volatire ref in your entry) even though these days my uniform is gray jeans, an un-filthy shirt and green converse. some labels never wash off all the way, do they?

silvergirl said...

Nope, labels don't fade as long as the ignorance doesn't...
i just think it's interesting how keen people are to lump everyone they meet into an Instant Category, like it helps them assess your potential threat level, or something. Honestly, i think it's all about fear. It usually is. And yes, public transit down here is a joke. Neither of us drives, and the first time we tried to ride our bikes to Old Town we got lost in the undergrowth beneath the I-5. Magical.
p.s.) i love your "mongoloid cousin" remark, and strangely enough, downtown SD reminds me a lot of Market Street in S.F.