Tag Archives: cej

Contemplation…

It isn’t her cup size or complexion, though she is ample and lily-white. Oh, she is quite pretty. She is visually stunning, in fact. Seeing her in a flowing skirt and a Indian-fabric blouse is surely a wonder. Her hair is a delightful tangle of red cascading down her neck and shoulders, a strand of silver here and there, if not hidden by the salon. Her mouth is wide, the lips full, her dark eyes clear and intense. Her face is washed by sorrow and joy, like a stone made smooth by water. Compassion, it says. There is her beauty. The way she holds herself, the way her eyes move, effortlessly, without a trace of affectation or cruelty, everything about her won me. Hers is the secret face I put myself to sleep by.

The idea was “trapped in a bathroom, with only a roll of TP and a magic marker to keep you entertained…”

trapped in a room with just a roll of TP, and a sharpie.

It’s only 16k, so I don’t feel bad about not lj-cutting.

individual sheets are –

  1. whirly-1
  2. whirly-2
  3. looking down a spiral staircase
  4. tiki god
  5. candle at night
  6. worm’s eye view of me in socks on a glass floor, eating lucky charms, messily…. or laying back, dreaming of my sweetie. you decide.
  7. whirly-3
  8. old prospector
  9. daisy in the dark…

Exciting, sexual, emotional dreams last night… Very erotic and pleasant…I woke up a-tingle, with my sweetheart’s name on my lips. I wrote more about it in my dream log… I’ll transcribe it for private reading later today.

Somehow or another, the computer turned off last night… very odd. was there a power outage? I didn’t hear the ups chirp.

I’m vain enough to notice that I’m getting more gray in my beard… but not so vain that I mind. I must’ve been on testosterone overdrive this weekend, because my face furred up fast…it was like mowing the yard after a week of summer rain.

I’ve currently got no real complaints… I could certainly bitch about a few things, but nothing so major that it bears talking about. I think that’s a good place to be. I like to count my blessings regularly. Those that I love know it. (I feel that Newt understands, even though English isn’t his strong suit.)

Scotto factoid time. Is it? Sure, why not?

I go through cycles of sound. Some periods, I need to have something going in the background… soft music, television, the whir of the A/C… If I can hear myself breathing, then it becomes a distraction.

Other times, I want it so quiet that I can hear the blood pump in my body while at rest. I like to lay awake at night, with my ear pressed against a bicep, or Newton’s side, and just listening to things happening inside…the creak of a tendon, squish of blood being pushed through a vein, or in Newton’s case… hear his tummy digesting a midnight snack or purring like a lawnmower. It’s also fun to hear him eat.

When I smell ozone, I think that I can fly. I have no idea why that is, but I feel simultaneously energized and relaxed by the stuff.

Before Newton, there were times when I’d gone an entire weekend without speaking a single word aloud. I wonder if I was trapped on a desert island on my own, how long my silence would rule. I think I’d end up “singing in the shower”, if there was a warm waterfall nearby, but might not speak much outside of that.

I’m really impressed by Charlotte Church lately… she’s got an amazing talent.

Time for me to move… see you later, dear journal!

back from the film… not a bad little monster movie.

nicely done.

sparky the fire dog would’ve had a tough time.

Just home, and the rain begins to fall…. cannot resist the venus flytrap that is Newt and a freshly-linened bed!

Thoughts of her were with me everywhere today… I saw her smile this morning when I woke, and thought of her scent as I bathed… she does truly reside in my heart.

Hearing my sweetheart laugh is a wonderful, wonderful thing.

Fox’s “hidden camera” show is fantastic, too by the way.. if anything, it’s too short. They need to put on two-hour specials.

Relaxing now, unwinding before heading off to sleep.

Puttering around the web…

Licensed variants of Monopoly. In Monopoly, you buy properties and then charge people increasingly exorbitant amounts of money when they stay there. As board games go, it’s a workable metaphor. It doesn’t apply to everything though. I mean, you can’t build a hotel on Bulbasaur. It just doesn’t work.

True porn clerk stories… I wonder if christin can relate? This is an utterly fascinating journal about working in a porn shop. The author stays away from the usual “my wacky job” clichés, and instead writes with great humor and insight about not only the unusual customers and politics of renting porn, but also about the effects on herself, and how the experience has changed her. It’s a long set of entries, all remarkable and entertaining.

the Phobia list.

The Ace Doubles Paperback Image Library – ignore the ugly website design and savor the art of cheezy vintage paperbacks. Great illustrations, nifty titles, breathless story descriptions, crazy hand lettering … it’s all there.

100 Years of Jell-O ads.

nighty-night dear journal.

Thinking good thoughts for my sweetheart. Finding a happy place for us.

Mind’s eye focusing on us on the shore, drinking cool drinks on a hot day, resting in the shade under a tall tree. There’s a soft breeze, and the sounds of the water are faint, but not too far off. In the distance is a silver veil shunting off a corner of the sky, marking an opened rain cloud. If you watch long enough, you can see lightning streak through like an errant white thread being tugged at blinding speed through the knitted gray cotton.

We’re eating a batch of cookies that she made. Chocolate chip with walnuts. Her head is resting on the crook of my crossed legs, drowsing comfortably as I massage her scalp. I’m sitting with my back against the tree; on other side, the tire-swing is creaking slightly, the firestone gently turning in the breeze. Down on the sand, a black cat chases sandpipers just outside the wake of the water. He’s toying with them now, just honing his skills for a future meal.

I’m taking solace in her calm and comfort.

My sweetie’s such a fun, mischievous goof…she had a *wacky-fit* today at the store…I’m still laughing about it.

She tucked in early tonight, to rest and recharge for tomorrow… I think that I’ll join her, work by programming, or outlining a new short story on the laptop while she rests. sweet dreams, dear journal.

Oh, yeah. Happy Bastille Day!

welp, I got my bike… it’s a nice, comfy 7-speed (the picture shows blue, but I got a silver one), with lights in the front and back… it should last me some years. I have to go register it at the police station on monday, even though I got a nice solid lock for it, too.

I made a boo-boo, and left my chatties online while I was gone… missed seeing my sweetie… I hope to catch her later today!

I’m going to hop in the shower, and then be back, dear journal.

A clear day! I could finally go for a little walk! I went to a nearby canal park, and roamed along the edge for a little bit

Now, fresh from the shower, I rise like the phoenix covered in steam, and I’m ready for today.

I dreamt about the wilderness near the coast last night. I think it was due to a photograph my sweetie showed me of the Lake Conoy. For some reason, I was charged with clearing an area for comfort… raking pine needles, and putting up some sort of tripod gizmo in the trees every so many yards…. I think it was to monitor wildlife (or tourists?) because they had to be hidden so that nobody would see them, but still have a clear line of sight to the sky. The dream took place during the day, but there was a soft yellow haze everywhere. Zombie Mist, again? I don’t think so. Maybe an echo of the Canada smoke I’ve been reading about lately.

Something that makes me giggle and lovey at the same time, from my beloved- is it any wonder that I’m smit by her brand of sugar?

*beso de dulce

mwah mwah mwah

oops, careful of my possum fangs

A moment of Goose

A man in the wilderness
Asked this of me,
“How many strawberries
Grow in the sea?”
I answered him
As I thought good,
“As many red herrings
As swim in the wood.”

Monster Island, pets and design, a programmable hat, and my local region for bookcrossing.

As soon as I get some labels printed up, I’m going to release Dandelion Wine and It’s Raining Frogs And Fish (I have multiple copies of each)

Where are Newt’s hind legs?
Newt at half-loaf

The rain was really falling hard this morning… Even though my pickup spot is only a few footsteps from the house, I’m confident that without my umbrella, I’d have been drenched to the skin by the time I arrived there, let along waiting the five minutes for the bus to arrive. I do need a new umbrella, however (something bigger and more rugged). The winds near the beach are quite good at breaking the more namby-pamby of bumbershoots.

More rough sleep last night. It must be the season for it…New moon last night. I can think of a few people that suffered last night, and have been suffering over the course of this week.

Where do you go when you fall asleep? I think that I keep returning to the same land, not too different than the one I live in while awake. There is a stronger element of the surreal, of course, but generally, I don’t notice that there’s a problem until I reflect on it after waking. Newt can change colors, and is as big as I am? It makes perfect sense to me, at the time.

Here’s an irrational but minor annoyance I have. It’s when my image shows up in the dreams of other people. That’s fine in and of itself, but sometimes my doppelganger acts like a jerk there. It’s foolish of me to feel this way, as it’s someone else’s psyche that’s pulling his strings, but I feel somehow responsible for my dream-image’s actions and doings. I’d much prefer that he do an act of compassion or act heroically than do something unkind or craven.

Recurring themes in dreamtime for me are: Pursuit (either chasing or less frequently, being chased), socializing (anything from going to a bar with friends to Christmas morning with my sweetheart and our dream-daughter ten years from now), defending someone from harm, or exploring a familiar, but changed landscape. (That can include a time-shift, decorations for a party, or a disaster like a flood). Things that stand out are unusual quantities, like rains of razors or having someone turned into a chameleon for parking in someone else’s space.

I don’t recall much of last night’s dreams. I know that my visualization before drifting off was a comfortable one. My beloved and I cocooned up in blankets, her resting peacefully in my arms as I began to loll. It’s one of my “happy places” to go. The bed is a soft, living thing, like resting on the back of a mammoth. When Newt recognizes that I’m officially lying down, he’ll come over and lie down on my right shoulder, and nuzzle his face into the angle of where my chin turns into my throat. This permits me to wrap my right arm around him and stroke his back and head while he purrs me to slumber. If, for some reason that location isn’t comfortable for him, he’ll lay against my side or calf, propping his head up on one of my knees. On a few occasions, he’ll even lay on my chest, lengthwise, his head at my throat again, but I can hug him softly with both arms. I do remember waking up two or three times during the night, and finally waking about 9ish from a thick sleep.

I wonder what Newt dreams about… I’ve seen him in restless sleep, maybe a nightmare? Usually he lounges quite quietly. Do cats have REM sleep? I think dogs do. Note to self- look into that.

I can’t help but wonder if dream interpretation books have any value, or if the real interpretive worth is better judged on individual basis. I suspect that’s more of what it’s all about. I think that if I see an anchor in my dream, it probably means something different than if Fred Smith in Wyoming sees one in his. I suspect a lot of the interpretation changes as the viewer grows, too. Dreams I had as a little pod probably mean something other than what I might translate them into now.

I wonder how Danger the turtle is doing? I think about him, Coal, and that gang pretty often.

The Finn is back from her native country, seeing her mom through cancer surgery. It seems to be the season for that, too… Danny’s pop had something done just recently. She brought back chocolate for everyone, which is quite tasty (truffle-filled milk chocolate). The label says truffelitaytteinen maitosuklaa, which has me guess that Finnish for chocolate is suklaa? The ingredients are listed in (FIN) Finnish, (S) Swedish, (GB) English and (EST) Estonian (maybe, unsure). In any language, it’s dang tasty and a pleasant surprise.

Late lunch today, Sandwiches and chips from Champp’s (It’s supposed to have two Ps). The only time I can palate tomato soup is if there’s a grilled cheese next to it.

Mike finally paid me back the money he owes me. Brother slipping me back a healthy chunk too. He’s doing very well these days, and for that I’m happy.

Missed my sweetheart by inches… I got home 3 minutes after she popped offline. dang! maybe I’ll see her before sleepies.

follow up on earlier auction

Captain Kirk’s Chair closed at $265,000.00
Captain Pike’s, $7000

SOMEbody has a lot of disposable income.

In other news, The Newsroom diner has good breakfasts!

I sing Mm-bop poorly, but enjoy doing it, anyhow.

Wow.. thunder and lightning *big* time now… I got home just in time.

Yay! Launchcast is back… good ol’ yahoo bought it. Thanks for the heads up, sweetalyssm! A pity my old station isn’t there anymore… well, we can rebuild it.. make it stronger, faster, better than before. 🙂

I missed out on dinner with the mom and bro… but it’ll probably happen next week. meanwhile, *hungry*