:: anne in the attic ::

Create Your Own Countdown

:: Monday, August 25, 2003 ::

That strange freon taste of ice cubes. The dust visible on the brown highway signs in Wyoming as the pink sun sets. A familiar lilt in a pet's voice that lets you know she's talking directly to you. The sharp green aroma of tomato branches. The strangely muted glint of an amber glass. The sticky sound of car tires on a wet street. The slightly dank smell that rises in the air one morning that tells you there will be no more really hot summer days. The energy between two people who have not yet touched, but are about to. The slight ringing in your ears when the music has stopped, and what's left is the stillness inside, small pieces of echoes, signifying... nothing.

Exquisite reasons, all, for gratitude. Doubt about the way things are going? About others? About yourself? Refer to above passage.

:: Anne 10:00 PM [smartass remarks] ::
...

Not brunch after all, but dinner we had in honor of mom's birthday on Sunday, and at the Electric Station. It was nice. Grant had come down from P-town the night before, so we got to hang out. He called last night to say that he might have a decent job offer, finally. I'll miss not seeing him, but it's cool that I can talk to him on my cell phone pretty much free of cost in the evenings. And it's not so far away, really... but sometimes it might as well be a million miles.

On the flip side, another good friend from out of state will be in town the end of next month. Says he might look for work here and move back, dunno. That would be cool. I miss the friends who used to hang out at what we all called "Jackson Street 90210." Almost all of them have left town. I've been in this house nearly seven years now, and I'm getting a kind of itch. I want to make music with people on the porch, drink a beer or two, hang out, laugh a lot, sit up on the deck at night with the chili pepper lights, and play "Mobopoly" with our special rules. I guess I had more time to spend then, and I've traded that for money, sort of. There will come a time when that will change, and I will be able to work less... when I will be more available to better nurture the relationships that are so important to me.

That said, I look forward to the new choir season beginning next week. I have definitely missed that weekly communion of women. I wonder how it's going to be now that... well, some major changes have taken place. Also next week, I start guitar lessons with a well-known blues & folk performer here in town. I hope it works out -- I need to learn some new techniques and give my tired old ones a rest.

:: Anne 9:21 PM [smartass remarks] ::
...

My brother refers to my yard as "the English Garden;" translation: "slightly overgrown." Estimation? Slightly underplayed, as the degree of overgrowth surpasses "slightly" and is fast approaching "quite." That's like saying that his cat loses "a few hairs." Yeah. I spoke to him last night on the phone for a while, both of us bemoaning the loss of romance in our lives, it seems. What is it with all of these joyless people? They're unhappy, so they want you to be unhappy, too. But it becomes so tiresome -- I should think it would be a lot of hard work to be so negative all of the time. Anyway, he's due in about an hour, so I'm stealing some time while I print and burn some projects on the old Dell. (A friend at work helped me rediscover "The Creatures," so I've been compiling some of their stuff.) He's got some business to finish, but after that, we'll hang out and shoot the shit. The atrociously hot weather has abated some since yesterday; the clouds are back for the first time in several weeks. So maybe we'll hunt down some good food -- it's hard to want to eat well when your body is working so hard to avoid becoming baked meat.

Next Sunday is mom's birthday brunch -- I'm hoping the weather holds for that, too. Many of my friends have spoken of jaunts to the coast lately -- I miss our annual birthday gathering at the British folks' house in Yachats. Ah, well, I suppose it has to do with my never having more than one day off at once these days. I hope that by next year, that will change.

:: Anne 11:24 AM [smartass remarks] ::
...