(no subject)

I'm dropping a number of people from my friends list.
It's nothing personal, so please don't get huffy.

If you feel the need to drop me in return, then by all means do so.

memories on disk

I decided this weekend that I'd gone entirely too long without another copy of 'Bone Machine', by Tom Waits. I'd had it on cassette some time ago, but it disappeared during one of my many household moves. So, The Engineer and I took a trip to the record store and I bought it on CD.

Playing it on the way home, I was keeled over by a slew of memories and images. The memories hurt, even the good ones. But, it's a pain that I hold close to me and cherish.




Walking through the quiet city streets in the wee hours of the morning. It's still dark and silence has settled over everything, a grey and damp blanket. Music in my ears and a cigarette between my fingers. This world is a dreamscape and I'm its only inhabitant. I could walk forever like this. I could walk forever.

Well hell doesn't want you
And heaven is full
Bring me some water
Put it in this skull
I walk between the raindrops
Wait in Bug House Square
And the army ants
They leave nothin' but the bones


This large house, all to myself. Hunched over the keyboard of a bedraggled word processor that has definitely seen better days. The stereo, also battered, in the corner with its volume cranked to a just barely acceptable level. Pounding out words in a dire frenzy, scowling fiercely all the while.

Well Pale Face said
To the Eyeball Kid
She just goes clank and boom and steam
A halo, wings, horns and a tail
Shoveling coal inside my dreams
There are no laws
She's made of cream
She's such a scream


Sprawling on Donald's bedroom floor, with my brain reeling in a puddle of THC. Giggling hysterically and singing along with the rest of them. Telling Anthony that because he doesn't know karate or voodoo, that he wasn't allowed to sing the song. Inebriated gaiety as I colour in the dog's white spots with non-toxic chalk. "Go show Daddy how pretty you are!"

I'm gonna drive all night
Take some speed
I'm gonna wait for the sun
To shine down on me
I cut a hole in my roof
The shape of a heart


Laughing as he suggested 'who are you' as our wedding song. And not fully understanding the reasons why. Realising them, many years later. He's smarter then I thought.

How do your pistol and your Bible and your
Sleeping pills go.
Are you still jumping out of windows in expensive clothes?
Well I fell in love
With your sailor's mouth and your wounded eyes.
You better get down on the floor
Don't you know this is war
Tell me who are you this time?
Tell me who are you this time?

re-wire my sleep hard drive, in triplicate

It's 5:20 in the morning and I am currently contemplating just not going to bed so I can re-wire my sleeping schedule.

I've been staying up this late far too much, mostly due to not being able to sleep. Mostly due to sleeping until three. Because I stayed up until five the day before. So on and so forth.

It chases its tail around and around and around.

I'm sure I could stay up no problem, though. Especially if I go take a shower, as that usually wakes me right the fuck up. I just worry about crashing around three in the afternoon, waking up at night, then not being able to sleep until five in the morning again.

This is not something which can really be pondered, however.

Maybe I'll just sleep until it's time to give the cat his insulin shot (7am), then get up then.

grr.

Carrie? Didn't you try doing this one time? How well did it work out?

no sleep, high on carpet

Will to stay awake, slowly being sapped.

I've been attempting to clean the living room. Which I've maybe made half a dent in it. Rat cages were cleaned, carpet was hoovered, some surfaces were dusted. But I keep crapping out and sitting on the couch for half an hour, staring blankly into space.

I really, really, really want to pass the fuck out. It's been twenty hours since I slept. Please? I know if I go to sleep now, it's just going to go all fux0red.

I could probably dust both living room tables. Maybe cook dinner now and leave it on the stove in a big pot with a sign saying "HEAT IT UP YOURSELVES, MOTHERFUCKERS". But, I don't know if that'll go over too well.

I could probably just do without the sign idea.

Also, my mother is officially insane. She wanted me to email her work account with her resume attached. Which I did. Not two seconds after I sent it, the phone rings and it's her.

her: what did you just send me?
me: I sent you your resume.
her: No, you didn't. It's your Alice webpage.
me: huh?!
her: It says bio, stories, poetry, etc.
me: did you click on a link in the email, mom?
her: yes.
me: That's my signature line. You don't click on that unless you want to see my webpage. Your resume would not be a link. Your resume is not online.
her: Oh. Then where's my resume?
me: It's an attachment to the email.
her: But, I don't see anything else in the email.
me: It's. Attached. To. The. Email. You have to open it the file.
her: Oh! There it is!


@#$%!

I have walked her through this procedure on numerous occasions. She has to use this procedure for her job, as well. I am in no state to be doing IT work over the phone right now.

I think she's smoking crack.
I think I'm smoking crack, too. For deciding not to go to bed.

On second thought, it I were to be smoking crack I'd probably have a lot more energy right now.