Home, I think

Aug 07, 2008 20:22

Why is that no one ever mentions Days of Open Hand as Suzanne Vega's most technically perfect album? What is wrong with them?
Well, it did win a Grammy. Deep are the eyes of Time. I bought a copy, and it came today in the mail...I am enchanted, taken into the Within, by it.


Am I crazy?

You know, Monday I saw seventeen guys on bikes. My personal best. I do what I can to promote.
Lord of the Pit! This has been four years. Four years of gaiadamned blogswarming, recipes and travel and novels and photos and stuff.

If anyone reads this they deserve a ribbon of merit. Yay you!

I waited endlessly for Stick, King's son, my putative hired boy, and when he did not appear, called and got King. King explained that Stick thought I meant six in the evening. Wow. How stupid can you get? At six it's ninety some outside, still.

Stick agreed to come tomorrow at six am. We shall see.

I went in to school, was angelically possessed by the tahaltalura,
the dream-storm, wrote twenty-two hundred words about Manteios' mother, on one of her good days, then went to the farmers' market, bought the needful things for AIDS meals tomorrow, as well as things for me, holed up in the office and slept an hour or so, wrote a thousand or so words more, was endlessly, endlessly barraged with text emails from a kid in Vegas who can't understand eighth-grade written English, annotated a book, got done, packed, went to the bank, sent Ian the money, went to the store, went home. Gack. My rioting-for-austerity vacation time! Wheee!!!!!!!!!!!!

me, music

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