The magic of it all is present sometimes.
But only sometimes.
A good night's sleep can do wonders.
The roomies paid rent. I was as surprised as anyone. Especially since one of them is in Calgary on business.
The grief they give may actually be worth it on some level.
Now, I just need to get a haircut.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Drivin' down the road I get a feelin'
Tonight I got to walk in the rain, not dance, but walk, slowly, without interest in getting anywhere dry or safe. My feet got wet and my sniffles seemed worse than they were.
The company made it better.
No question.
Good company can do that, make things better.
The company made it better.
No question.
Good company can do that, make things better.
Saturday, May 13, 2006
Sometimes the girl is here; with her indigo eyes
Rumour is a powerful thing. It washes over people like a heavy rain; impacting everything in its wake. It might not hurt, but it certainly leaves its mark. Everyone gets wet. Some don't mind, but others catch pneumonia.
A parapluie would help, but they don't catch everything.
The only thing that works is being indoors during a downpour. Watching the rain hit the glass, smiling because you know you are safe.
But people out there aren't safe. People get hurt.
It would be better for everyone if it was sunny all the time. Just like California, but without the freaks or fault lines.
A parapluie would help, but they don't catch everything.
The only thing that works is being indoors during a downpour. Watching the rain hit the glass, smiling because you know you are safe.
But people out there aren't safe. People get hurt.
It would be better for everyone if it was sunny all the time. Just like California, but without the freaks or fault lines.
Friday, May 12, 2006
Grown man tactics; no pediatrics
The roomies got to me last night. I have been feeling a little under the weather; rundown as it were. So I tried to go to bed at a decent hour last night. IMing with some friends made the hour a little less decent then I hoped, but I was in bed by 1:30am. Decent for me.
Read.
Fell alseep sometime around 2am. Which is good, 'cause I haven't been sleeping very well lately.
A little after 3am, the roomies struck. I am woken to a heated argument about which hamburger is better, McDonald's or Burger King. Goddammit, I say to myself while I lie back and wait for it to end.
The argument continues. The patio door opens long enough for the argument to blow outside. Then back in again. Wait a minute. There are three voices. What the hell, who else is here?
Close to 4am, I have had enough. I stomp up, put on my robe and head down the stairs.
Lying in wait, perched at different points on my sectional, are now three old friends from home. All pretending to be asleep. Then they start to giggle. Three grown men, all in their thirties giggling like characters from a japanese cartoon. They can't stop.
"Its his fault. He's loud" one of them says between giggled breaths.
"Boys, you had to pick this f'in room. Ten feet below my head"
More giggles.
"Any other goddamn room."
"Its good to see ya, Pete." the new arrival says holding out his hand. "Its been a long time. Sorry about this"
I haven't seen him in 10 years.
"F' this," I say shaking his hand before I stomp back upstairs.
The next morning I come down for coffee before work. There he is, the newcomer, passed out on my other couch.
Like a hung-over cherub in the fetal position.
Godammit, they're breeding.
Read.
Fell alseep sometime around 2am. Which is good, 'cause I haven't been sleeping very well lately.
A little after 3am, the roomies struck. I am woken to a heated argument about which hamburger is better, McDonald's or Burger King. Goddammit, I say to myself while I lie back and wait for it to end.
The argument continues. The patio door opens long enough for the argument to blow outside. Then back in again. Wait a minute. There are three voices. What the hell, who else is here?
Close to 4am, I have had enough. I stomp up, put on my robe and head down the stairs.
Lying in wait, perched at different points on my sectional, are now three old friends from home. All pretending to be asleep. Then they start to giggle. Three grown men, all in their thirties giggling like characters from a japanese cartoon. They can't stop.
"Its his fault. He's loud" one of them says between giggled breaths.
"Boys, you had to pick this f'in room. Ten feet below my head"
More giggles.
"Any other goddamn room."
"Its good to see ya, Pete." the new arrival says holding out his hand. "Its been a long time. Sorry about this"
I haven't seen him in 10 years.
"F' this," I say shaking his hand before I stomp back upstairs.
The next morning I come down for coffee before work. There he is, the newcomer, passed out on my other couch.
Like a hung-over cherub in the fetal position.
Godammit, they're breeding.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
"Old people do that. They cut up jokes and keep them."
Things I touched tonight:
Frisbee
Blanket
Cheese
Strawberry
Grass
Wine
Olive
Earth
Frisbee
Blanket
Cheese
Strawberry
Grass
Wine
Olive
Earth
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
"Chill out! He's only trying to build bridges, not lay pipe."
Strange things are afoot at the Circle K.
Roomies are asleep. Work has started so they are always tired. I haven't actually laid eyes on them in a couple of days. They are still here. The smell of pot and empty beer bottles and take away containers strewn throughout the kitchen prove that, but it is almost like I have gremlins or a poltergeist ('80s movies rock... and roll!).
I never see them, but everything is slightly different everytime I come home. Things are moved barely inches. Sometimes the place is tidied. My cat always seems to be locked out and hungry. It is like I have a mischievious yet under-motivated spirit living in my space. This phantom isn't like any other ghost. No, this one is content. He doesn't have an axe to grind. He isn't trying to avenge some regretted wrong. No, this spirit drinks my beer, smokes weed, watches a lot of TV and laughs alot, but never in my presence. Almost like my presence would banish them to spirit world, never to enjoy the pleasures of this mortal coil again.
Roomies are asleep. Work has started so they are always tired. I haven't actually laid eyes on them in a couple of days. They are still here. The smell of pot and empty beer bottles and take away containers strewn throughout the kitchen prove that, but it is almost like I have gremlins or a poltergeist ('80s movies rock... and roll!).
I never see them, but everything is slightly different everytime I come home. Things are moved barely inches. Sometimes the place is tidied. My cat always seems to be locked out and hungry. It is like I have a mischievious yet under-motivated spirit living in my space. This phantom isn't like any other ghost. No, this one is content. He doesn't have an axe to grind. He isn't trying to avenge some regretted wrong. No, this spirit drinks my beer, smokes weed, watches a lot of TV and laughs alot, but never in my presence. Almost like my presence would banish them to spirit world, never to enjoy the pleasures of this mortal coil again.
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