My sister Birdie told me a few nights ago,
"Chris don't take this the wrong way but you would be perfect to play a crazy woman in a movie."
Nov 30, 2007
Nov 29, 2007
gonna sit right down
Sitting right down to positively work on my essay OK got paper got pen got main points don't got Tea, no one can work on an essay without Tea getting up making some sitting back down to positively work on my essay tapping pen Why did I make green tea don't feel like green tea pretty daisy doodling in the margin Oh well they say it is a good source of antioxidants take a sip tapping pen Whoops forgot the thee-sorus no one can work on an essay without a thee-sorus getting up going to the bookshelf where the thee-sorus sits Oh right next to the dictionary, So THAT'S what antioxidants means closing it put back on shelf Sitting right down to positively work on my essay tapping pen Forgot the thee-sorus - falling - asleep.
This is why I don't get anything done.
This is why I don't get anything done.
Give me today
Three days down with lone fever bitter headache achey shakey cold. When I knew I was going to die I sent deep and sorrowful farewell letters to all my friends friend. Heard they she laughed. I'm so weird.
The Pathetique started following me in the dark, perhaps only because I was sick - but I am getting well now and I wont give up on it - when I didn't feel better but at least my hands didn't shake I crept to the Spinet with my blankie close around me but only could play Brahms, softly. Brahms over and over and again. nothing else was right.
*
Most appropriate sky for convalescing, God. Clear but 30°. Thank you for blue.
A fat jay plopped just now on the tree out the window across from me - he jumps around very pompous trying to frighten the sparrows but they are quicker and lighter and know it. The Great Bird Flock has come and going. It hasn't snowed yet. I think it is waiting to snow on Beethoven's birthday. No one knows exactly when Beethoven's birthday is so when it is December againwe I will celebrate it all month long.
The Pathetique started following me in the dark, perhaps only because I was sick - but I am getting well now and I wont give up on it - when I didn't feel better but at least my hands didn't shake I crept to the Spinet with my blankie close around me but only could play Brahms, softly. Brahms over and over and again. nothing else was right.
*
Most appropriate sky for convalescing, God. Clear but 30°. Thank you for blue.
A fat jay plopped just now on the tree out the window across from me - he jumps around very pompous trying to frighten the sparrows but they are quicker and lighter and know it. The Great Bird Flock has come and going. It hasn't snowed yet. I think it is waiting to snow on Beethoven's birthday. No one knows exactly when Beethoven's birthday is so when it is December again
Nov 26, 2007
Returning you now to real life
One holiday: survived, though slightly worse for wear with a bruised hand, sore back, a severe case of narcolepsy and the same To Do List I've had for days and weeks. Playing in the annual Turkey Bowl will cause a couple of those symptoms but I should hardly blame the last two on the holiday because I am always tired - now that the days are a string of grey so is my mind and I don't want to do anything at all. Thus my hesitation in posting to Sonatina these days because no one really wants to read my whining which is exactly what I'm doing again, isn't it, so if you've read this far into another grumbling post, you deserve an alpaca photo.
Fed these guys (girls actually) for a friend over the weekend. I know you know they come in more colours than any other fiber producing animal, and that the shy little ones are called crias, but did you also know they hum?
If you did you may get bonus photos.
*
John was home for the week so it was not so dreary. It is a little funny any time he is here because all the little ones show off madly and vie for his venerated big brother attention, John John listen to this watch this!!, particularly the boys. O says it's because they haven't a father. When we are not mad at each other, things with John and I things are pretty simple. Always have been. He laughs at my jokes and I make him cake.
L of the Lovely Quarry Cliffs gave me a scarf on Thanksgiving, with a card that said HAPPY WINTER and a separate letter with a countdown on the envelope flap of the days left until she goes to Hawaii and leaves me to freeze to my lonesome death. I should hate her but can't afford it - besides, the scarf is pretty and brown and warm and Hawaii is probably way overrated anyway. I love my friends I love my friends I love them. If I ignore the countdown the letter was nice. We write often now. Even though we are only 7 numbers or a few miles apart, she is always going going and I am ever staying staying so we have to use every way we can to tie our separate days together, letters phone email and driving, so as not to grow up and apart. The letters I am most fond of. She says lately all my writing has been weird. She tells her Mum she has the weirdest friend ever. And her Mum says Who, Christina? because her Mum hasn't read my letters. Apparently what comes out in words with me is the weird thing, in person I am very ordinary. I only know I am trying to teach L things in all those writings, like colors and thee-soruses and imagination. She tries to teach me things too like never cry alone and how to live lightly and how to dress fashionably. Neither of us feel we're succeeding much.
Hope all had and will have a warm week.
This turned into maybe the nicest post I've written in a while. I guess we should all beware.
Fed these guys (girls actually) for a friend over the weekend. I know you know they come in more colours than any other fiber producing animal, and that the shy little ones are called crias, but did you also know they hum?If you did you may get bonus photos.
*
John was home for the week so it was not so dreary. It is a little funny any time he is here because all the little ones show off madly and vie for his venerated big brother attention, John John listen to this watch this!!, particularly the boys. O says it's because they haven't a father. When we are not mad at each other, things with John and I things are pretty simple. Always have been. He laughs at my jokes and I make him cake.
L of the Lovely Quarry Cliffs gave me a scarf on Thanksgiving, with a card that said HAPPY WINTER and a separate letter with a countdown on the envelope flap of the days left until she goes to Hawaii and leaves me to freeze to my lonesome death. I should hate her but can't afford it - besides, the scarf is pretty and brown and warm and Hawaii is probably way overrated anyway. I love my friends I love my friends I love them. If I ignore the countdown the letter was nice. We write often now. Even though we are only 7 numbers or a few miles apart, she is always going going and I am ever staying staying so we have to use every way we can to tie our separate days together, letters phone email and driving, so as not to grow up and apart. The letters I am most fond of. She says lately all my writing has been weird. She tells her Mum she has the weirdest friend ever. And her Mum says Who, Christina? because her Mum hasn't read my letters. Apparently what comes out in words with me is the weird thing, in person I am very ordinary. I only know I am trying to teach L things in all those writings, like colors and thee-soruses and imagination. She tries to teach me things too like never cry alone and how to live lightly and how to dress fashionably. Neither of us feel we're succeeding much.
Hope all had and will have a warm week.
This turned into maybe the nicest post I've written in a while. I guess we should all beware.
Nov 21, 2007
Bleak
This morning is not really a morning, rather one of those days that gets it backward and goes to sleep first instead of waking up. See, by night time it will be bright and just beginning to warm.
Won't it?
it won't?
From 75 to 40 overnight is not fair.
Yesterday I was walking in the wind and sun and trees but I remember now the woods knew today was coming, trying to tell me in that silence after a leaf fell. I was standing out an hour ago wrapped in my blanket standing on the wet concrete in my bare feet. I felt clearly and solemn that I was seven, still in my PJ's looking at the grey sky.
Noiseless rain heavy rain cold rain. My hair is a mess and my clothes unchanged, a weak tantrum but a tantrum nonetheless, whatever, I'm not going to wake up. I am going sweep every thing off the piano the light the pictures everything, and open the top and open the cover and unscrew and open the base, and play and play and play with nothing except the Piano and nothing between the sound and me. I might well spend the day trying to untie myself from the day.
It may be time to shut down this place.
*
Nothing here to fear I'm just sitting
around being foolish
when there is work to be done
Just a hang-up call
and the quiet breathing
of our Persian we call
Cajun on a Wednesday
so we go from year to year
Tori Amos
Won't it?
it won't?
From 75 to 40 overnight is not fair.
Yesterday I was walking in the wind and sun and trees but I remember now the woods knew today was coming, trying to tell me in that silence after a leaf fell. I was standing out an hour ago wrapped in my blanket standing on the wet concrete in my bare feet. I felt clearly and solemn that I was seven, still in my PJ's looking at the grey sky.
Noiseless rain heavy rain cold rain. My hair is a mess and my clothes unchanged, a weak tantrum but a tantrum nonetheless, whatever, I'm not going to wake up. I am going sweep every thing off the piano the light the pictures everything, and open the top and open the cover and unscrew and open the base, and play and play and play with nothing except the Piano and nothing between the sound and me. I might well spend the day trying to untie myself from the day.
It may be time to shut down this place.
*
Nothing here to fear I'm just sitting
around being foolish
when there is work to be done
Just a hang-up call
and the quiet breathing
of our Persian we call
Cajun on a Wednesday
so we go from year to year
Tori Amos
Nov 20, 2007
Nov 16, 2007
Everything wakes up so slowly now. I braved the cold and went out early to see the sun but even He opened one eye and then crawled back up under the covers. So I came inside thoroughly disgusted with it all. And have been dozing since.
Everything wakes up slowly now.
Me, too.
Life is presently Cheerio aftertaste.
Everything wakes up slowly now.
Me, too.
Life is presently Cheerio aftertaste.
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