There's a bunch of things swirling in my brain, but none of them seem really important enough to commit to paper...er, cyber-paper?

Here are some fragments from my earlier days of writing:

THINGS TO DO ON A RAINY DAY (created October 11, 1994)
-Watch new paint dry
-Watch old pait flake
-Watch linoleum curl
-Count the number of raindrops hitting a 1ft sq. area of your driveway
-Get a radar gun and, clocking the rate at which a psrticular rain drop is falling, the size and approximate weight of the drop - use the equation for terminal velocity combined with relative gravitational force and barometric pressure to determine the likely height from which thei particular drop fell. Remember to account for wind speed and direction, relative humidity, and elevation above sea level.
-refine your couch potato skills
-make lists
-draw on the driveway in sidewalk chalk and get mad as it rapidly dissappears
-read a book upside down
-put all your clothes on inside-out an backwards
-see how long you can smile before you get a charlie horse in your face
-bake something
-eat what you baked
-build card houses
-play in puddles
-write a letter to the Poet Laureate attempting to convince him/her that with all the exceptions to rules in English, "Orange" and "Elbow" should be made rhyming words by an Act of Congress. Cite their former valuable use of time declaring the tomato the legal status of vegetable in the United States.
-make a sculpture out of bubblegum and Rice Crispies
-see how long it takes to puree a whole carrot using the lowest speed on your blender
-take a bubble bath
-give yourself a bad hairstyle with bad makeup to match (or clash, as you see fit)
-see how many times you can blink in a second
-find your breathing rate
-build a bookshelf out of real books
-clean the house
-repair clothes
-draw
-watch the brown come out on banana skins
-see how many times the phone rings before the person calling gives up
-try to burn a candle at both ends
-nap (preferably with a cat)

(Nov 18 1994)
The basement is scary-
Dark
like a
BLACK CAT
in a
COAL BIN
eating
LICORICE
at
MIDNIGHT.

With cobwebs.

(Nov 23 1994)
Molly [my sister] has discovered Ultimate Fun: She blew soap bubbles while skipping through the snow!

Poem: A STRANGE DIET (Nov 28 1994)
Crumbs and crackers,
popcorn, books,
a dozen marbles,
some chessgame rooks,
A wallet, make-up,
lots of money,
Several toys-
my stuffed pink bunny!
A pair of pants?!
a bunch of socks
a set of keys-
and yet no locks...
a pile of Leggos,
some knitting stuff,
six old earrings,
some soft couch fluff;
Perfume bottles,
dirt and sand,
scissors, thread,
and rubber bands.
Removed them all
From the lining pouch-
this undigested
diet of couch.

And finally-
FIRST LINE OF WHAT PROMISES TO BE AN INTERESTING STORY (Dec 2 1994)
"Never one to give up a chance at a quick comeback, Mr. Chang reminded Morty of HIS failure to bring the bananas."

Tags: list, poems, writing

No tech today. And my hubby got a snow day, so we got to sleep in and snuggle.

Unemployment has FINALLY come through! Will be getting monies shortly for this past week, currently bugging them to make sure I get retroactive pay and healthcare.

Debating the merits of leaving the apt to get flour so I can bake peanut butter cookies...perhaps I will do so later on when I need to go out and pick up my drugs at CVS.

Been a while since I posted poetry, so here you go:

A Haiku for New England
Snow, rain, sunshine, sleet,
And fog; so what does it do
AFTER 9am?

A Haiku for Actors Who Ask Technically Detailed Questions
Well, I'm no expert
But they'll probably paint it
With, um, you know...paint.

A Haiku Stolen From an Old Conversation
What do you mean there's
No argument?! I am a
Woman, I'll make one!

Tags: good stuff, poems

I'm nearly asleep as I sit here. Work is going well, but it's taking quite a bit out of me. Literally, as in today, when I managed to gouge a small chunk of my right thumb with my left thumbnail. Yes, I am just that talented. I also think I've figured out why I'm sensitive to the epoxies.

More on all that another time. Tomorrow, dinner out and Carlin and ZOMGYAY!!!!

HAIKU FOR MISSING DAYS
It isn't that I
Don't feel like trying; mostly
It's lack of...

IT'S NOT ABOUT SCENERY
Her tour complete
She looks back at her map-
The one that has been folded and re-folded enough to
Make holes on all the crease junctions

She burned through three yellow high-lighters
Tracing the routes traveled

Her mileage is recorded,
Her load-times and run-times and ticket sales
A world of numbers and charts
Lines and mountains and valleys collect
On paper

Her memory is full only of roads
Where they were flat
Where she drove for two hours through the same cornfield
Where there was a town with more elevation than people

The truck hungered for dashed white lines
The wheels urged to rub black on black
No time for road-side attractions
No stops longer than the size of her bladder

To her,
It was work
Experience
Scenery only something to be careful not to look at
While keeping all the wheels in one lane
Despite fatigue and sharp curves

She's forgotten all the names of the locals and locales
She hopes the map will remember.

Tags: napowrimo, poems

Some days are made of frustration. And no matter how well you've done your job, and how well you accomplish the tasks assigned to you, at the end of the day, you're a step or five behind where you were yesterday with one foot and two steps ahead with the other. All you get is a pulled ass-cheek. Sometimes for days on end. And I don't know about you, but I only have two ass-cheeks.
So tomorrow better not be like that.
srsly.
**/work rant**

Skipped reading/posting yesterday due to a migraine.

In entertaining news, this morning as I was heading in to Dunkin's to get my fix, there was a woman ahead of me who was one of the oddest combinations I've ever seen. She was about 5'10", plus some really sexy heels that she knew how to walk in, very high-cheekboned face, and a bit more of an actual figure than models today seem to sport. Think of the gals on the runways in the mid-80's. She had naturally sandy-brown-blonde hair (or she paid LOADS for a damn good color job), pulled into a simple pony tail. She was very good looking.
Here's the but:
She was wearing what SHOULD have been a very flattering outfit: Straight-legged pants, pale grey with wide-ish black pinstriping, pale blue shell, black fitted jacket, all in a woven cotton. Nails done, little bit of make-up, black shoulder bag. But all of it was just...wrong, somehow. The jacket was a little short, showing off her lack of a belt, which meant the pants hung a little low and bagged a bit under her ass. And as I exited just after she did, I saw that she drove a well-loved Camry.
Naturally, none of this oddness made any impression on 3 of the male workers who really and truly fell over eachother like puppies trying to figure out which one would take her order. One took it, one filled it, one rang her up (which is NOT the way this particular place works, they always do one person, one thing).
But 'J' (that's all it says on his name tag), the one male employee NOT drooling all over himself in this oddball goddess's presence, rolled his eyes, gave me an 'oh please' smile, and took care of my coffee, somehow forgetting to charge me.

Work again tomorrow. 9-?.
meh.

poemtry:

HAIKU FOR FRUSTRATION
Annoy, irritate,
Vex, pester, grate, chafe, bother;
See also: *headwall*

MIS-QUOTED
For all of you

It costs a buck-three-eighty
And I've got a handful of air and pocket lint
However after doing a show without a cast
I can fit a family of five in her jeans.

But I do have a bionic belly button.

Ricky's good looking,
And hot sex can be found on the second floor of Constitution
But there's no room for my tits in here
While I'm trying to wind the frog.

Of course, I liked it so much, I bought it jewelry.

Maybe the pastel plaster Virgin Mary statue
Can tell me why the closet threw up
All over my roommate who's still in the room
Despite our hero's best efforts to re-RE-exit, through the front door, stage left.

After all, 'Jesus fucking Christ' is really just masturbation.

I've read all the signs
That all read "Bellevue - that way!"
But I end up needing to pee while stuck in traffic in Harlem
Screaming "Hi, I'm a Jew, come kill me!"

There's no there there, you know?

Tags: job, napowrimo, poems, rant

Working many hours. Feet sore. Possibly re-discovering my epoxy sensitivity. Giving it til the end of next week; if the rash on my hands and arms does not abate despite my measures, I may have to, grudgingly, change jobs AGAIN. GRRRRRR!!!!!!1!

I made shortbread cookies tonight. Some will be distributed at work tomorrow. Hey, it's on my cover letter (...and I sometimes arrive with cookies).

Catching up, two haiku, since my brain can't form anything more complicated:

HAIKU FOR FEET
I'm sorry, dear feet,
That I cannot offer you
A daily massage.

HAIKU FOR SHORTBREAD
All real ingredients:
Sugar, butter, flour, salt: the Four
Horsemen of Diet.

Tags: napowrimo, poems

Today was a bit on the frustrating side. Lunch outside with chirping birds made it easier. Once the shop is less slammed (insert snide laughter here), we need to do a real inventory and clean-up. Even if it's only a section.

Got to start nailing some things down for our upcoming NY trip.

Today's poem is brought to you by the number 17

HAIKU FOR SEVENTEEN
Today seventeen
Syllables will merely state
What they are stating

And by the letter Q:

HAIKU FOR Q
Questioning Quin's quite
Queer quiescence, quickly
Quelling qualms quietly.

Tags: napowrimo, poems

Work continues. It's odd learning to slow back down, take things in stages; though Will is very good at saying "I think I can throw you in the deep end on this one, here's what I need" when he's pretty sure I can handle a mini-project on my own. He doesn't ask me to do anything requiring advanced chemistry before I have coffee, I don't ask him silly questions while he's doing math.

You get two today!

ANOTHER HAIKU FOR COFFEE
I don't drink coffee
To deal with YOU, it is so
you can deal with ME.

THE LAST LAUGH IS A CACKLE
With too many women
In too many cells
The old crone was put under Home Confinement
(The old term for House Arrest)
Until her trial date

Three soldiers had to help carry the
Half-starved
Half-mad
All-knowing Witch to the pyre
As she stumbled,
Cackling,
Along the dusty road

No time even to strip her
Shave her head
Barely the cursory
"Will you confess and give yourself fully to the Lord"
Her "No" crackling with defiance and glee
As they tightened the bonds on her wrists and neck
Her final words the laugh of a grackle

Only one man knew this story
Only he would write it down in shaking hand
Disbelief warring with sick laughter as he penned:

And in Towne today
Theye did send the ashes of Goody Lotte
To the Air and Skye.
And she did leave
With a BANG!!!
It woulde appear
That while locked within her Home
She loaded full her petticoats
With Pouwder, nails, and other scraps
Such as woulde fly from her
When the Flames of Retribution did her touche.
And so shes taken many a friende with her
To whate'er Rewarde may awaite.
I being ille was not in The Square
When all occur'd
And am the lone one chosen
To tell the Tale.
May the Lorde have Mercy and Grace upone me,
For I have not yet slaked my need for laghter!
I knowe full well now
Not to meddle with women
Lest their revenge touche me
In suche a way as this!

And a quote of the day:
"I need you to measure it from wherever I've marked to cut off the head, all the way to the butt." -Will, concerning a mast

Tags: napowrimo, poems, quote

Yesterday remained a wonderful day. In the evening we went to a WONDERFUL ice-cream place in Belmont (Rancatore's), we stopped at Whole Foods on our way home, and then I worked a load-out for ALPS. It ran longer than I expected, but monies is monies and it was a reasonably placed load out.

So today, after a de-luscious breakfast featuring Whole Food's Maple Smoked Bacon and fluffy scrabled eggs, I am off to Worcester to see Jack McCarthy at The Q.

Also, speaking of bacon, while Isaac and I were at Whole Foods last night, on one of the hoity-toity chocolate displays, they had a bar with bacon in it. Yes, real bacon, in chocolate. Holy stoner grub, Batman!

Twelve and Thirteen are haiku:

HAIKU FOR BACON
The lowly piggy
Is raised up to ambrosia
When salted and smoked

ANOTHER CAT HAIKU
The can opener
Calls with a purr promising
Comfort and tuna

And not mine, but two of my faves, about coffee:

HAIKU FOR COFFEE
Coffee COFFEE coffee
COFFEE sip slurp gulp aaahhhh
Urge to kill fading
-Ryk

BARISTA'S HAIKU
How may I help you
DIE DIE MOTHERFUCKER DIE
Thanks have a great day
-Mike McGee (it think)

Tags: napowrimo, poems

From yesterday:

HAIKU FOR AN ASSMUNCH

I don't care how much
You honk your horn and gesture
The light is still red.

From today:

HAIKU FOR ANOTHER ONE

What is it about
This intersection that makes
People such assholes?

In other news, first day of work was cool. I get to play with volatile chemicals! Actually, it requires a weird combination of artistry, chemistry, hand-eye coordination, and obsession with details. Which explains why most of the guys there are engineers AND musicians and/or sculptors.

Tags: job, napowrimo, poems

Which is today's date.

HAIKU FOR CLICHES

1. THE BAD PUN
It seems too often
The milk of human kindness
Just becomes cheesy

2. THE LAME INSIGHT
Hook, line, and sinker
We take the bait, and swallow
Leaping with no look

3. THE FLAGPOLE
Yeth, mutheh waahned me
That thith might haffen; fleathe justh
Bwing thome hoth watheh.

Tags: napowrimo, poems

Yes, the good radioactiveart issued the following challenges:

1. A twenty line poem without any words of more that one syllable.

2. A twenty line poem without the word "the" in it.

3, A ten line poem that, when read forward and backward, provides two different poems.

I decded to go for broke and type them up just now, ( back here )

Tags: meme, poems
Feelin'...: poetic