ramble on

driving in my car, summertime and hot in 5pm traffic. listening to the song 'summerland' by everclear. there's a guy waiting at the lights to cross. white button down shirt, black pants, long hair in a pony with a goatee carrying a cup of java to go. i think he looks cute, interesting even, but then think, probably doesn't even have a driver's license.

i saw a dear friend a few weekends ago for the first time in over four years. she looked taut, wiry, thin and there was a hysteria hiding behind her eyes. she raised two gorgeous children, alone for 15 years. she mentions in a flashing spark that she dated the most amazing man, her soulmate, she called him and continued on about something else. i went back to it. tell me more about this amazing man, i said.

her eyes started on fire and light oozed from every pore of her being as she told the story about how she met him. she was friends with his brother and they knew eachother as kids. it was an amazing romance involving much swooning, deep breaths, sighing and for real courting. their dates were like some crazy romance novel. well, i said, what happened...

he died in august. i can see the light leave her face. it is still so shockingly unreal that i can see her grasping to just hang on to this moment. as she tells me the details, i start to cry. it was a horrid job site accident and he was crushed by an i-beam. his organs were harvested. it was just so awful and wonderful. all of it. i asked her if she had anything of his. she is still so very in love with him.

she begins to tell me about how he despised tattoos. she did too. yet, she pulls down the neckline of her tank and reveals a tiny, tiny red heart with a crack it. upon closer examination i see the crack is the first letter of his name. does it get any worse than this? will it get any better?

i picked up some crab rangoon for snowflake. as i was driving up the hill a few blocks from my house, i do believe i saw his father. i drove past him and didn't look back. i will never look back.

sublimation

Strange Brew

You know it's a damn wicked strong brew when your pee smells like fresh Pike's Place Roast. Thanks Starbucks. And thanks for wiring me up like a crazed chicken. Four hours later.

hello, summer!

on a carousel

i love my bike

the pianist

let me laaaaaaaaav you

holy tomato

wormderment

behind blue eyes

Technical Difficulties

Apparently the previous photo was unavailable so everyone will have to enjoy these tired old berries for a change. Also, I took my new, sweet ride to work this morning. My bike. Yeah, seven plus miles of technical difficulties. I feel like my old idol Pee Wee Herman. It's really neat-o! Stay tuned...

highway song

loose chain

so... having a little red wine and enjoying a gorgeous summer night. burning a stick of nag champa, watching nightline. commercial comes on for fixdent showing boomers enjoying various types of crunchy as nails bruschetta. which one has them has them, it prods you. yes, who?

like, dentures? who in the hell that age would have dentures? my 94 year old grandmother has dentures. the only people(excusing those of legitimate disease or unfortunate laws of physics) that age having dentures are alcoholics, recovering alcoholics, domestic abusers(okay christine, hocky players), and methheads.

they're definitely not eating brushetta.

Chicken's Evil Twin