rue the day

Nick Denton's nanopublishing empire?
yes please.

rough day.
i have my apartment to myself for the week -
proving once and for all that
left to my own devices, i probably would.
i ate 2 pkgs of justice league fruit gummies for breakfast
and far too much lime diet coke.

yesterday i tried to go to safeway to buy proper food,
but the beer and lemonade i knocked back at the tattoo
convention made things significantly
uncomfortable enough for me to race home as fast
as my sloshing bladder and high heels would allow.
grotesque picture i know,
but i am here to entertain you,
and if that means i have to disgust you -
so be it.

i am feeling bitchy and fed up.
i spent way too much money this weekend.
tattoos and perfume, indeed.
i am reeling from the $30 pricetag
for my monthly baby-inhibitors.
absolutely insane.

this whole free-falling thing
is getting tiresome.
i turn 32 in a month.
i want a garden.
i want a home with more than one bedroom.
i want to have a savings account.
now, what do i have to sign?

you know, i can't help myself.
i can't quite seem to get over
Bright Eyes' Lover I Don't Have to Love
that song turns me on like nobody's business.

yeah, yeah, yeah - i know i've said this before.
be polite and listen like it's the first time
you've ever heard it,
and while you're at it...
dance like no one's watching.

sense of accomplishment



five stars 


$20 a star  


i am pleased as punch.
not only did i go to the tattoo convention alone,
i sat in a state of undress and got tattooed in public.
it was done by a really nice guy from tcb tattoo parlour (toronto)
i plan to continue on with more stars all the way down.
some smaller, and i'm going to try to keep them pastel.
i want to see how far i can get without
repeating a colour.

didn't hurt a bit.
i mean it.
but, then i quite enjoy getting tattooed.
makes me sleepy.
i wish i could afford a gigantic piece.

there were some beautiful men and
women at the convention.
great place to people gawk.
it felt strange to be there alone,
but i have to get used to that sort of thing.
i admire people who are content in their own company.

i lucked out, some guy outside the gates
sold me his $25 wristband for $4
at first he asked for $15.
i had no cash, except for some change.
he told me he liked my perfume and took the $4.
yay, quel amour!
it may have cost me a fortune, but
it also saved me $21 in admission.

today i am cautiously optimistic.
i humbly avert my gaze from all deities.

i'm easy, easy like sunday morning 

i love sunday mornings.
even waking up alone with the tweed pattern
from my sofa firmly engraved down the
left side of my body - i am happy.

last night's get-together was nice.
for the first time in my life i tried
pot brownies - i know, what you're thinking,
"you wild and crazy thing, you."
i'm not big on getting high.
i mean, it's ok.
but i get bored of it quickly
and i hate waiting for the feeling to go away.

anyway, everyone else thought the brownies
tasted disgusting and a few folks even
had trouble swallowing them.
me, not being a connosieur and not having any particular
issue with the taste of pot, thought they were lovely.
chocolate is chocolate.

flashforward 2 hours - everyone in the
room was hilarious.
and if they weren't hilarious,
they were asleep.

i kicked out the last guest at 1:30
and fell into a long dreamless sleep.
i really needed the rest and today
i feel good.

no one will go to the tattoo convention with me.
sad. sad. sad.
mind you, it does cost $21 to get in.
but, im a trouper.
i am so close to staying home.
i promised myself i would go.
and i'm going to try to keep my word.
i'm sick to death of being such a fucking flake.

did i ever tell you all the story about the
time i considered joining the army?
no? good.

Quel Amour!
A confident woman, full of dreams,
bursting with love, yet modest enough so that
the slightest compliment makes her blush the
colour of peonies. Her irrestible and independent
spirit are embodied in this new fragrance from
Annick Goutal.

sure sounds like me.

i did it.
i bought a gorgeous perfume.
i will suffer dearly for it.
i may not be able to make my rent,
but i smell intoxicating.

annick goutal makes the lovelist fragrances.
yep, but dont take my word for it.

i had a helluva time deciding between
Quel Amour! and Petite Chérie
i went with quel amour because it has this lipsticky-adult scent.
petite cherie is very pretty and fresh - apparently favoured by men.
some day when i have money again,
i will pick it up.

cuz somedays you feel quel amour
("a sensuous brunette
stretching in the sun, dreaming of love")
and other days you feel like
"a little darling" -
young and apealling to men.

you know, maybe i went with the wrong perfume.
nowadays youth and man-appeal would
be most helpful.

...


earlier




hey, it's saturday.
i just ate almost all the
marshmallows out of the box
of count chocula.

i have just lived out
an eight-year-old's saturday
morning fantasy.

man do i feel hot right now.

ruby woo - get your girl on 

another friday night,
just me, letterman and this beat-up laptop.
i haven't much to say,
except that thunder just smashed through my back lane,
and a flash of lightening made my balcony glow.
like everything in vancouver,
it didn't last long enough.

tomorrow night will be better.
i have decided to have people over.
- a retro-inspired evening.
i will make some fatty fingerfoods
and stick them with frilly toothpicks.
i'll pull out my best barware.

i also plan to dress for the evening.
i rarely have the opportunity to get dolled up anymore.
i can do as i please in my own home.
if i want to overdress, who will stop me?

and who decides what is too done up?
there's something about the ritual of donning
women's clothing... (my, i sound like a tranny)
pulling up zippers,
fastening hooks,
tugging something snug and stretchy
over curves and of course,
lumps and bumps.

i love the snap and click
of a complicated pair of heels.
and i never regret the five minutes
it takes to paint my lips red.

with the exception of hair removal,
menstruation, birth control,
stretchmarks, wrinkles,
overpriced underwear,
wiry white hairs and that
whole glass ceiling shit -
it's kind of great to be a girl.

if i can swing it,
i may try to buy myself
some perfume tomorrow.
christ, i bought myself a lovely
bouquet of flowers today.
i'm the best date ever.

i read somewhere that you should be
able to smell a woman before you see her,
and that if you know her,
you will be able to envision her.
if you do not know her,
you should be able to imagine her.

i love that sentiment.

heya, remember ages ago,
when i said "i haven't much to say"?

sweet mother of pearl,
what the fuck am i going on about?

...



in the wee small hours of the morning



i must move.
my apt. is so wee.
i just had an internet fellow
up to take a boo at my modem,
and having a large man in my living room
made me realize how tiny this place really is.
i tried to keep busy and stay out of his way
while he poked around my poor old laptop.
sitting on the couch felt way too intimate.
i couldnt stand in the kitchen the whole time.
that would be just weird.
ditto for the toilet.

i eventually made my way to the balcony,
pretending to water my already watered plants.
poor guy, i think i was making him nervous
with my prowling about.
he looked younger than me and he has
2 teenaged children.
that is fucked up.

and there wasn't much he could do for me.
you see, i keep getting disconnected from the internet.
doesn't appear to be a problem with my high-speed connection.
what a pisser.

this weekend i plan on attending
the first-ever vancouver international tattoo convention
i have been dying for a new tattoo.
perhaps, with a little luck i'll start next week
with an oozing spot of ink on my hide.
i want something impressive done on my birthday,
but this weekend i wouldn't mind just getting something
silly or small that requires no thought.
i want a few small pastel stars scattered about.
i like the idea of tiny tattoos adorning unexpected spots.
behind the ear, the side of the hand and so on.

and my forearms are looking bare.
i love a full sleeve, but it may be a bit much.
and yes, i know tattoos are about as edgy
as a sack of wet kittens.
but, i don't care.

i think they are pretty.
giggle - insert index finger into dimple.

i bit my lip today
to keep a lid on it.
and it bled and bled.
the kind of wound that
begs to be worried
with a tongue or a tooth.

right now i would assume
any position for a chocolate
hot fudge sundae.
that sounds so much filthier
than it ought to.

back to the shit

through the walls
i could hear someone weeping.
not crying, not sobbing - weeping.
soft and sighing and wet.
i could hear the snot and the exhaustion
bubbling each time she inhaled.

sad. sad. sad.

i want to go back and do it better.

happy victoria day, etcetera.
it's monday and the loooong weekend is wrapping up.
i am well-rested and had a lovely little holiday.
one sour note last night, but shit happens.

oh, i have to go.
i'll finish this later.

still the long weekend.
should write more, but i
haven't the energy right now.

i will write more later.

brief recap:
went out friday night - had a great time.
went to a party on saturday night dressed
as a russ meyer-inspired space chick -
i pray there are no photos.
there were some excellent costumes.
the weekend isn't even over.
i have to say, this feels like the longest
long weekend ever.

that is a good thing.

a proper post to come.

testing hello 

okay, things are back to normal.
had a shitty day.
felt like i was wearing an angry bee bonnet.

i haven't worked out in 2 days.
mind you, i made it up the stairs today without dying.
that is exercise enough.

i bit the inside of my lip.
it was a bleeder.
hurts like a sunuvabitch

i am ashamed to say that i behaved like an
irrational bitch today.

pathetic.
uncharitable.
satisfying.

i am excited about hello.
now i can post photos without all that stupid hyperlinking labour.

i really need a proper holiday.
i want to stay in a hotel/motel/room/tent/anywhere for a
few consecutive days.
i want to sleep in.
wander down unfamilliar streets.
be someone's guest.

yes. i need this.
i would be a nicer person for this.

guess what?
i'm having a great day.
my spirits are high.
work is going well.

last night i spied on someone using a website.
from behind two-way glass.
and it was totally on the up and up.
zed has hired a research group to conduct usibility testing.
it was fascinating - i learned a lot.

annnnd there was a fridge-full of beer, wine and soda.
and let's not forget the plate of peak freens and the
thai food we ordered in.
sometimes i loooove my job.
so, maybe i haven't published a decent piece of writing
in over a year...
but i get paid to be an ale-swilling,
springroll-gobbling voyeur.

the fabulous fitzgerald girls (sorry, local reference)
are hosting a theme party this weekend.
i am very much looking forward to it.
i must find a costume.
i am having very little luck.

the laptop has been reimaged again.
i'm back in bidness.
yay, me.
yay, zone alarm.

and so i says, "what the fuck?"
i had no idea jimmy fallon was leaving snl.
i mean no clue.
i am a popculture clod.

i nearly tossed my lime diet coke across the room
when he said his good-byes on update.
and the way he was biting his lips as he did,
i would have liked to help him out with that.

but, really.
where's he gonna go?
he hasn't even done the prerequisite shitty snl character movie.
or has he? i dunno. but i prefer to think he hasn't.
what's a successful, attractive, wealthy young man going to do in nyc.
oh he will rue the day.
rue. rue. rue.

and how about those twins, hey?
freaky looking little ladies.
but alright. they may stay.

and so i must do some work.

bad luck, you are a terrible laughing god~ rip royal city


saturday afternoon - well practically evening and i am at work.
my laptop is infected with a virus because
someone didn't follow some good advice and run zone alarm.
well, i did eventually download it, but not until after many hours of
online exposure.
i am a sacrificial lamb.

so anyhoo, here i sit.
i just ate a taco del mar monstrosity.
it was very good and i deserved it.
i've nearly walked my non-existent arse off today.

went out last night.
it went from great, to good to shitty -
as things tend to.

had a gay old time having drinks
with the ladies.
much cackling ensued.

then we went to a relaxed party.
it was fun, but i was lured away by the
promise of nightlife and afterparty hijinks.
i was told straight up that i need to go where there are single men.
apparently i come off as quite hard up nowadays. nice.
i couldn't be bothered to argue and besides,
i secretly intended to join them for a drink and then bugger off.
i wanted to make it home in time for conan.
i'm the best.

well, we tried to go to this pub i quite like called the cambie.
now i tried to go 2 weeks ago and was turned away for not having i.d.
if i were younger i would have been furious about being banned from a
potentially good time.
as it was, i was extraordinarily annoyed by the lump-headed bouncer's physique(all 5"6 of him)
and the fact that i had to blow another $10 in cab fare.
but i digress, and tiresomely too. apologies.

so, last night we arrived and there was a queue outside the door.
i was tired. my feet hurt. my 4 margarita headstart was fast
boiling away to a headache.
but i was in determined company.
we marched blocks and blocks to another crappy bar.
i blew $7 on a warm heineken. we sat for 15 minutes.
the others decided to go to an afterparty at some warehouse.
i called a cab and made it home in time to catch the last
half hour of conan.

well, i suppose the evening ended somewhat pleasantly.
but i confess watching latenight television alone
can be a bit dull and lonely.
but much preferable to the company of drunks.

and then there was saturday
snl tonight.
im a real wild child.

oh, and one more thing...
carson daly is NOT an entertaining human.

the audience of the carson daly show is lame.
very very lame.

jenny mccarthy is annoying.

such clever observations.

...



-->insert customary hair comment here<--

i just returned from the my morning jacket show.
incredible band - they deserve better fans.
the crowd was almost made up entirely of creepy college boys
and old men. it was bizarre.
lots of beer bottles lifted into the air and high fives.

unbelievable what a hard-on i maintain for a skinny guy with a guitar.
i'm a sad sad woman.

beautiful music.
the kind you make memories to.
pardon the sentimentality.
songs you want to listen to outside at night,
lying in the grass.
or while you have a lay-in with a lover.

alright, that last bit was more than a little saccharine.
forgive me. i have had a few drinks and was forced to walk
all the way home in stupidly high heels.

oh how i suffer!

good morning!

well there was a nifty little blogroll
juuuust over to the left of here.

bastards.

i would very much like to go back to sleep.

i just spent way too many hours fucking around with this
here new blogger template.

i deleted my old blog without saving the source code for
for reference.
typical me, typical me, typical me,
i started something,
and now i'm not too sure.

i can't sort it out right now.
i am tired.

it's been a trying day.
a sad day.
and my hands are tied.

(this is exacty how i look at this moment. yes.)

shortly after one in the morning,
and i am working on my tan.
i'm a bottled bronze, you see.

david byrne performed on letterman
it was impressive.
i am not a fan, but still.

my muscles are sore.
i worked out yesterday.
decided to be a bit of a hero.

is it normal for a shower to
induce sobbing?
think before you answer.

holy shit-in-shinola,
the chemicals are turning
my hide a lurvely and fairly
natural shade of outdoors.

i want to see troy.
don't judge me.

for the record,
alan rickman still turns my knees
and other less angular bits of me
to jelly.

i guess i should go brush my teeth.
must be very careful not to dribble
down my chin.
i will streak my dye-job.

this just in my...inbox:

From Reunion.com
Subject : 1 New Students, 0 People Looking for you

so telling.
funny.

what i would like to know
is who signed me up to reunion.com.
well...?

last night when i left work,
the streets were full of people.
i imagine some sort of urban event
had just let out.
people were dressed swell.
many were holding hands.
i don't think i passed one unhappy face.
unusual...
for here, in vancouver.

in fact, i didn't see a single panhandler.
which is very strange for a night filled
with wealthy happy folk strolling robson.
maybe i was too bedazzled to notice.

as i neared my apartment,
a beautiful woman walked past me.
i couldn't even pretend to look away.
she was just that kind of lovely.
she grinned at me and i returned the favour
without even realizing it.

sometimes my general distrust and often
dislike of my own sex cracks wide open.
good feeling, wont you stay with me
just a little lonnnngerrrrr?

i say i don't buy into zodiac signs
and the like.
yet i am always looking for
something to convince me.
i'm a cancer, you see.
and i never really felt it fit me.
until i read this:

"The Cancerian has many potential faults.
They can be untidy, sulky, devious, moody,
inclined to self-pity because of an inferiority complex,
brood on insults (very often imagined),
yet are easily flattered.
They can be tactless and difficult yet,
because they are normally ambitious,
they will curry favor by floating with majority
opinions, outlooks and fashions of the day.
As a result they often change their opinions
and loyalties and, indeed, their occupations,
and lack stability. They are easily corrupted
and, because they are convincing romanticizers,
can make successful confidence tricksters.
Their romanticism in another sense make
them ardent supporters of causes,
for example a football team with whose
heroes they can identify in a world of fantasy."

pretty much me in a nutshell.
except for that last bit about football.
don't know what the hell they are going
on about there.

typical. i find my brethren in
the laying out of faults.

see? that's some primo crab self-pity.
quick. someone flatter me.

just finished frosting a lovely two-layer cake.
made the most delicious buttercream icing.
i fucked up the inscription.
i'm going a little mad looking at the
crooked cursive.
but, believe you me, writing
in rapidly warming icing is no
small task.
i have doused the bugger in sprinkles.

i should pick up beer.
everyone gets along with
a good old-fashioned mother's day
buzz, i'm sure.
oh yeah, and i'll have to nab
something vegetarian and expensive
for my sister and her boyfriend.

i need a holiday.

...


wanna hear something funny?
i used to write poetry.

no.

i used to try to write poetry.

no desire to nowadays.

well what does that say about a person?

earlier, just past midnight



it is saturday. just.
the cable guy comes in ~ 12 hrs.
ive decided to ditch the cleanse due
to this crushing pressure i feel in my chest.
i thought it was all in my head or
stress-related, you know?

until i googled a bit.
pressure on the chest and between
the shoulder blades is...
well it's bad.
something about heart inflammation
caused by one of the herbs -
etc etc etc.

kind of a drag.
i was doing alright.
i guess i could just try to figure
out which herb is bothering me.
but honestly, that is way more work
than i'm willing to do - plus i'm not
all that keen on having my heart stop
in the meantime.

so i bail. the naysayers win.
all said and done - i do feel better.
cleaner.
i feel thinner even if my heart is all
bloated now.

must remember to take it easy tomorrow.
no diving in to grease or sugar.
slow and easy wins the race.
and besides, i am sick to death of
talking about this cleanse.

mother comes in on sunday.
must impress her with a very
adult mother's day celebration.
must be doubly careful to
appear very very happy.
nearly hysterical works with my mom.
it will be difficult.
i am very distracted these days.
must find lilacs for table setting.

she will be sleeping over sunday night.
and wants to go for lunch and shopping
on monday with me and my sister.
i wish i wasn't so poor.

i need new clothes.
and im not just saying that.
i cannot make it thru this summer
in the same jeans and black tops.
ridiculous

ah poor me.

alright.
i feel the fire.
i am going to write something this weekend.
i am going to send it around.
hit up old editor acquaintances.
humble myself.

it will be terrible and amazing.

friday night.
means jack shit.
don't you know?

i should go buy eats, shoots, & leaves
a fellow nerd suggested it.
apparently the brits have been on this
forever.
that and wedge shoes.
isn't that always the way?

and then thursday came round...

quick cleanse update:
this is a very stupid idea.

some wiseacre asked me today if i ever write
anything of import in my online journal.

now for some reason the words "online journal
make me bristle.
ridiculous really, as that pretty much describes
what this little pothole in the internet is.
but when i hear online journal i think
of hello kitty and "mood today: hap-hap-happy!"
and all sorts of keyboard strokes to mimic
human expressions.
:) or =) - etc and so an so on.

at least he didn't pull the word "diary" on me.
i don't much discuss politics, nor current events.
i don't really post helpful links.
this is no hardcore sex blog.
nope no such fun around here.

basically this is where i shoot the
shit with myself.
this is a safer, more acceptable place
to have a me-to-me conversation
than, say the bus.

i tend to talk out loud to myself when i
walk home from work - and i can get
away with this thanks to the invention of
cell phones and headsets.
people may still think im an asshole
(those headsets are truly insufferable)
but folks are less likely to think im mad.
and as i grow lazier and lazier and
tend to take the bus rather than walk -
i need an outlet.

and so, there you have it.
anything of import?
not bloody likely.
but as i was saying to myself
just this afternoon -
"jesus, a girl with an ass like that
SHOULD NOT be wearing that skirt"

agreed.

i predict today will be a no good very bad day.
am i clairvoyant?
nah. realistic is all.

fucking cleanse.
yesterday i downed a lemonade iced tea.
absolutely forbidden for all the sugar.
not enough that it's from starbucks.
my soul is doubly damned for the sweetness.

sweetness, sweetness i was only joking...

i gave in and ordered cable television.
come saturday i can once again numb myself
with late-night television.
i can't hardly wait.

had a funny conversation yesterday.
my friend lisa turns 30 in a couple of weeks.
she is concerned that she hasn't accomplished enough.
i get this.
i turn 32 in a couple of months.
it's best to consider yourself in resume format.
on paper, i'm the shit.
who really needs to know the less glamorous bits?
anyone who reads this blog knows the real deal.
but, let's take a look at the paper me
vs. the humdrum reality...

On Paper:
age: 31
occupation: Associate Producer for the
Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, Web Site Editor,
Television Personality, published Freelance Writer
health: stellar
tragedies: minimum
height: 5' 8
weight: i look great when i suck in.

you know what, let's just glance over the reality part...
i'm gonna cling to the above for a bit.

and now i go drink tea designed to disguise
the revolting earthy flavours of my cleanse
vitamins.

keep on keepin on.

and so day two of this cursed cleanse
comes to a close.
i woke up feeling nauseous and it appears
i will drift off cradling the same sea-tossed innards.
still have a miserable headache.

i cheated. i had soy sauce.
but for the love of pete,
sashimi without the fermented soy?
cut a poor old woman some slack.
i felt a bit better after the sushi
(my first meal at 6 pm)
i thought i was doing myself a favour
by downing a few raw carrots earlier.
only to be told that raw foods are
harder on a queasy cleanse stomach.
score another for the toxins.

i've been informed the third day is the worst.
i would very much like to ffwd over tomorrow.
monday night i cooked all these great soups
and casseroles - all cleanse appropriate.
well the thought of eating any of that stuff
now sets my guts roiling.
but i know that if i don't eat,
i will feel much worse.

may tomorrow never come.


yawn. i'm sleepy

why in the hell am i doing this again?
right. because someone told me i couldn't.
oh yeah, and the supposed health benefits.

one benefit of having a sick stomach,
i can ignore the pit of anxiety that has
been slithering around my insides
fortuitous

i can avoid dealing with said anxieties
by delving into the misery of the very near future...
how about the month of june?

my brother is getting married in june.

i will be surrounded by people whom i haven't
seen in ages.
my life has snapped and dissolved since
the time i spoke with them last.
folks will feel awkward around me.
as the free bar takes it's toll,
crass questions will be asked.

to put family members at ease,
i will make jokes at my own expense.
i will get the small room and be sat
at the slightly sad and rumpled singles table
or the overflow as i call it.

i will get to play the role of the lonely
30-something wedding guest.
i've been an understudy to this role my
whole life - i swear it.
i will practice my smoke and whiskey growl
and perfect my bitter barking guffaw.

everyone cries at weddings.

...



aaaaand...
i am on the wildrose d-tox cleanse
this is not my sort of thing
but i've felt so rotten lately,
i'm willing to give anything a try.
depression and disorganization have taken its toll.

right now, i have a headache
and i haven't urinated this much, sober, ever.
i am tired.
but i was tired before the cleanse.

just ate the most delightful avocado.
it was heavenly.
buttery goodness.
now if only i could have spread it on
a nice thick slice of bread.
sigh.

i have been assured i cannot do this.
i wish i felt a little more confidence to disagree.

one day at a time
sweet jesus.

...




Remember the days you used to talk
about that student newspaper you
worked for on the old slushpile?
Do you miss it? Is your job you have
now more better? Remember me?
What do you think of Starbucks?
~ saltea

yes, i do remember my student
newspaper days.
i was the best damned editor the op
had ever seen.
i still miss the all-nighters pulled
in the windowless office,
rife with the stench of unwashed men.
we would sneak into the dark room and
smoke cigarettes.
then there was the janitor who unlocked
the door and popped in at the most inopportune times.
it was an incredible time for me.
oh yes. and the writing.
i wrote a lot.
broad's eye view was read by lunchladies
on two floors.

now, my sister is the editor.
fucked up, but interesting.
doncha think?

is my new job more better?
well the pay sure as hell is.
and yet i'm still broke.
i love my job - but is it better?
honestly, i don't know.

starbucks?
i loathe it.
and so i spend nearly $4
on a black lemonade iced tea.
daily.
i hate myself.

do i remember you?
yes.
but until you popped by
you were fast becoming
a blurry figure of the past
my world has completely changed
since you last came around.

what shall i tell you?
i just don't know.
is this what musicians do
when they have no material?
is this the equivalent of taking requests
or playing covers?

it's a beautiful morning
what do you do with such a day?
a morning like this is so loaded
i feel like i should do something about it.
like rise to the occasion or something.
somehow this makes me feel sort of angry
and annoyed.
i kind of just want to hide out.
smoke a few cigarettes in bed
and feel ever so sorry for myself
but the bloody sun and cheery foliage
just can't let it go.

im only one woman.
there are plenty of people living it up
they don't need me too.
i just want to sit this dance out
that's not so very terrible is it?

oh i've a bit of a purple hangover
and no food -except for a big dry loaf of bread.

my, but my little rose looks pretty on the balcony.
fuckers. they're flirting with me
i'll be outside - sun on upturned face in no time.
willpower. ain't got none.

i am exhausted
crazy emptied out tired.
looking forward to sleep
but not quite ready to commit

today was an odd one.
drank sticky glasses full of
lovely cider on a sunny patio.
clinked glasses and laughed.

ended the night
crying and then laughing
and then a little more with the crying.
time to carry on smartly.

Broadcasting - 0 Viewer(s).
i'm one lone cowpoke.

gimme something to look forward to:
cheaper than a one night stand
see you there.