7/25/2003
I went to Park Place to see "Pirates of the Caribbean;" you gotta love Johnny Depp. Afterwardsm we walked around looking at the Ponies. I always feel like a bit of an alien at the mall. It was crowded, bustling, bright. The people were... well... "diverse": all kinds of old people and young people and hip hoppers and nature children and young professionals in golf shirts and gangsta wannabes with the rag head and big baggy shorts. Outside, a storm had brewed up and the sky, even now, is about as happenin' as the sky gets. Whole sections of sky glowing with lightening strikes, across the clouds, and long, lingering shots down at the earth, the silhouettes of clouds in the high foreground. And it's cool enough to sleep tonight, just with the windows open. Damn my winterizing. I suppose I should take that plastic down one of these days... but it helps keep the dust out. Ho hum.
7/22/2003
Just a note before I fall asleep, I think. It's possible this blogging will ramp up into a daily practice, but I honestly feel I'm a bit too busy to have any thoughts that might approach "profound." Hardly any worth typing out, actually; no "time to name the hills."
I don't suppose blogging need be profound, however.
I figure I'll just chip away a little each day, and maybe it'll become a practice worth keeping, and maybe the blog will go the way of the Sweat or archery or walking up Tumamoc Hill. Just not a part of my life.
Hot. The monsoons are still teasing some. After several good late afternoons or midnights of torrential downpour for an hour or so, tonight there's nothing but heat lightening and an oppressive humidity. I feel like I should be in one of those movies in the Congo, with the shadowed ceiling fan turning ominously above.
I'm going to bed early this evening, hoping I'll sleep and wake up at the crack of dawn and feel clear-headed and ready for about 14 hours of work. I need to do that much.
If all else fails, I guess I can pull out the old Daybook from years ago, and just type those in again. We shall see. I did remember to call the Poetry Center today, to see if they would like my books. I'd really like to give just about everything away right now.
I don't suppose blogging need be profound, however.
I figure I'll just chip away a little each day, and maybe it'll become a practice worth keeping, and maybe the blog will go the way of the Sweat or archery or walking up Tumamoc Hill. Just not a part of my life.
Hot. The monsoons are still teasing some. After several good late afternoons or midnights of torrential downpour for an hour or so, tonight there's nothing but heat lightening and an oppressive humidity. I feel like I should be in one of those movies in the Congo, with the shadowed ceiling fan turning ominously above.
I'm going to bed early this evening, hoping I'll sleep and wake up at the crack of dawn and feel clear-headed and ready for about 14 hours of work. I need to do that much.
If all else fails, I guess I can pull out the old Daybook from years ago, and just type those in again. We shall see. I did remember to call the Poetry Center today, to see if they would like my books. I'd really like to give just about everything away right now.
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