Well, I’ve been on the east coast two days now, and I’m either adjusted to the time change or a zombie. It’s hard to say.
I just took a nap from 9pm-11pm; that’s probably a point for Team Zombie. I also had bad dreams (first one that involved me walking in on some horrific medical experiement being performed on my dog…and let’s just leave it at that. In the second, I was at a beach with my purse when a rogue wave came in and swept it off, along with my phone, ID, all my credit cards, and even my passport. Note to self: separate some valuables on this journey in case things [rogue waves, purse snatchers, personal stupidity] go awry.) and am probably still recovering from a pretty serious sleep debt. Approximate hours accrued are as follows:
28/5 = not enough
Moreover, I haven’t exactly been on my normal schedule in many other ways, either. Case in point: the only meal I ate on July 4th was this:
I believe they referred to it as a curry, and surprisingly it tasted almost exactly like something they used to make at this weird vegetarian restaurant I worked at once: the one that was owned by a cult. Have I told you about this? It was my first foray into professional (paid, anyway) cooking and my one big chance to attend an orgy, which of course I passed up. They lure you in with the orgy, and the next thing you know you’re selling flowers at the airport. Anyway, I digress….
Then there was the red eye from California to Atlanta. I actually slept well…once I fell asleep…and for probably no more than three hours. Still, when I heard the ding and the “flight attendants please prepare for arrival” I was shocked to find I’d been out cold. Since I was unable to catalog my own slumber, take a gander at my roommate, who I can only hope never, ever, ever, ever, EVER discovers this blog or this photo of him catching flies.
Friday is a complete and total blur. I took some pictures of a blue dragonfly in my dad’s backyard. I actually took about 30 pictures, but I’ll spare you the gory details and share just the one. Less is more.
Brace yourself: I’m gettimng more and more random as 3am looms. Here’s a picture of me (maybe 18 months?) that’s on the desk in my room. Go ahead and ooh and ah. I was one hell of a baby once. Too bad Gerber never caught on or I’d no doubt be in the lap of luxury now or at least not having to do my own highlights (although, happily, it turns out I’m damn good: a gay hairdresser recently asked who does my hair. When I informed him it was me, he assumed I was in the biz and wanted to know who I worked for. “Me.” I responded. The conversation pretty much digressed into an Abbott and Costello routine from there…)And, in conclusion – at least for tonight. I already have two more not-terribly-exciting posts and photos in mind for you in the very near future – here I am just now in the same bedroom that houses said baby picture. Older, wiser, but still pretty damn cute and rocking some not half bad self-done highlights.
So long, farewell, auf weidersehen, and thank you for coming back for these pointless posts week after week, month after month, and year after year.
On second thought, let’s not dwell on the details of your time wasting. There’s no such thing as a stupid question. There is no Santa Claus. I believe I can fly. And only YOU can prevent forest fires and give this blog purpose. You da best! More soon…