Huge bowl of punch

from which I've begun drinking. I'm EATING ALL THE SWAMP DIP WHERE ARE YOU MY SWAMPIES???!!
This is why I shouldn't drink before anyone comes to the party.
Also
receiving trick or treaters (for the first time) was weird.
I kept wanting to say trick or treat ! But that's their line !

Where does one get

DOLL parts ??

It was a screw-top-cap wine

but the man still showed us the label and poured a tiny taste for Eric so he could see if it was to his liking. Ah ha sexism. I was sort of glad it wasn't me, actually. Their wine glasses are huge. And we ate tentacles and tiny fried octopus(es) and the waitress asked us if we were doing something special that night because we looked so nice. Nope. This...is it. Now bring me my Mahi Mahi and bring the gentleman his Chicken. We'll take the creme brulee for dessert, s'il vous plait.

Tonight

we're gonna go to "date night" at JTK. Which is something to look forward to. I plan attempting to hide in my cubicle all day, though I've checked my pants for holes or tears pretty thoroughly. I was movin' around a lot yesterday, though. Tryin' to figure out the speaker situation so I could be dialing in to the teleconference webinar...takin' a walk...goin' to the basement bathroom for more exercise and time spent...walking to the other building's level three to be helpful in packing up pamphlets.
Well. I've got a task this morning that will keep me in my own cubicle (whether the seventh day adventist woman I stole it from likes it or not)!
She took my stapler yesterday :O

Maaannnn

the new job is turning out to be any old job. Plus ripped seams and a pastor who notices. Back into the role of fool!

Cloudy

I remember when I thought I could finish and be things.
Lately I'm just tired all the time. The magic is gone from the words.
I grow petty and pettier, breaking the things I love
because they can't be what my whims desire
in moment by moment flashes. And I try things,
and fail to be anything more or less than a normal human being.
Getting tired. Helping out sometimes. Hurting.

Greasing

Feels too much
in the spotlight.
And oil.

Long nails break
a bit
with flesh when

a water bottle's opened.

Claw nail
scratches particles
from the face. Long face.

Powdered to
a buff beige
matte.

Open each casing
and colors to match.

I feel like

the percentage of responses I get to my postings is directly proportional to the percentage of the time I am interesting (in real life).

The new job is going well; I have my own cubicle, email address, and phone.

Also

most of my issues are ridiculous.
Thank you.

Things look better today.

Maybe because of the two-ish mile run yesterday. The hottubbing. Dinner with friends at an excessively crowded Chili's.
Or being pulled over and ticketed yesterday for expired registration (?)
I haven't been to Chili's since I lived in Omaha.
ALSO Eric's parents are giving us use of another car (because they are awesome) so my transportation issues will be dissolved for a time (once Eric's car is registered and my ticket paid)!!!!

May be starting a new job on Tuesday. Which is stressful in numerous ways. Dreamt about hiding from zombies last night. Eric says I'll probably hate the job but like the money and so be stuck in hating where I am but trying to sustain for that check. Which, upon hearing, made me not want to anything. Possibly also because I've been getting up at 5:40am for the past coupla days and not napping and trying to be normal. That early in the morning is not normal for me.
And what to do about a car. Bundle and bike downtown? If so, will probably cut off all new hair growth and quit wearing makeup. That's one other thing that makes me wary of this transition. Besides the fact that it's not a done deal and still I had to give notice...
Fuck.
Tuesday.
And what and where and how and I have to beg Eric for his car or plan and time the bike in the possible snow and the definite cold...

Have you been poisoning me Against my
self My whole
life?
Need sleep. Need someone to take my shift tomorrow. Need not to have to work on Monday. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK
need my own car.
Need some transport to get to a job to make money to save to buy a car.
Maybe I can ride the bus. I should look into that.



Oh, and, I hate America.

It may actually be the caffeine.

decided

not to leave the house on Sunday, or yesterday.

Maybe the drive to Omaha exhausted. Maybe all the sampling and chatter then BOOM we were gone.

Have been experimenting with sugar substitutes in attempt to determine which, if any, do not cause heart palpitations. Splenda is the devil. Sweet and Low causes cancer in lab rats, but may be okay. I don't think it's the caffeine. It might be the caffeine. And any drinking or smoking I then randomly follow it with.
At least I don't smoke crack! Just a few puffs of Swisher Sweet or an Al Capone.

And I guess you can dip cigars in beer? Particular, barley wine. There's one thing I learned at beer college!

Hmm I think this Sweet and Low may be okay. Besides the potential for cancer, I mean.

Here's some homework: make the connections between the names of sugar substitutes and of prescription drugs! Particularly anti- anxiety and/or depressants. Calm you down, thin you out - then YOU, TOO, can have THE American DREAM!!

Overcaffeinated? Can't be yet not yet.

Bundled way too much for the bike this morning. Must remember to check the weather and dress accordingly- in infinite layers or not.

Opened the wrong store this morning. Force of habit took me to the gas station again and now I work till 1 instead of noon. Which is okay. I have made seven dollars already. Less than five hours to go and then I can workout and launder my clothes and fold them and watch as much TV on the internet as my brain can TAKE--

:)

Dreamt

all this weird fun discombobulated stuff
you know, dreamy.

but Amanda- your parents had this mansion of a mansion we were visiting and your parents were kind of a lot more like evan chambers' parents (from the terrible and hulu available series GREEK) than your own parents.
but we were having dinner there. your mom was making a dinner, she informed me, after i crawled through the dog crawl space in the foyer door and compared it to alice in wonderland. your mom: "that's always the simplest comparison made. I mean...no offense"
(none was taken)
I noticed familiar words on your wall and your parents had dozens of my poems framed and up and honored and then i noticed yours there too - and some of our paired together with hand painted floral flourishes.
downstairs, the rest of the group hadn't realized we were eating amanda's mom's dinner. when i got there you were all eating hunks of pork-like spam (?) and barbeque sauce and cabbage. a sort of stew. mmm
and you directed me to the restrooms - forward on the right! and there was "gentelnen" and "nen"
but no worries because there was also "ladie gooses" and multiple other arrangements. at least 5 restrooms in that neverending basement.

love poems
are
mostly ridiculous

The Roger Harris

Sense in you A me
of parts.

Down the flour.
Oil. Sugar.

Creamed
up dip all
spun.


Before the west
was.

Before my crown
made others furrow

browed.




A seltzering
drink

in the kitchen
with waltz.

I still think there's a way I can get into the groove of this.

There are only so many kinds of vodka one can infuse to make.