:: anne in the attic ::

::::: ANNE IN THE ATTIC :::::

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:: Sunday, August 03, 2003 ::

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] ::
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